"Not allowed? What the hell d'ye mean, 'not allowed?"

The marine stared back at Jack with the typical landsman's stupidity.

"I order you to let me in!"

"Sarge's orders, sir. Not allowed t'let any vis'tors in. S'worth my life if I dis'bey, sir."

"It's worth your bloody life if you disobey my orders," said Jack. "And I'm here right now and I'm holding a sword."

The marine was not impervious to this sort of diplomacy. He stepped aside from the bars and, with a jangling of keys, opened the door. He held it open and Jack stepped through. Stephen skulked in after him.

The cell the marine lead them to was, at first glance, empty. Then they saw the figure lying prostrate on the flagstones.

"Pullings?" Jack stepped up to the bars. "What's wrong with him? Let me in, damn you."

Stephen frowned. "He's been stunned. Look, you can see the blood."

Jack turned to the marine, who flinched.

"What did you do to him?"

"T'wasn't me, sir! Yer honour!"

Jack grabbed him by the collar. His feet barely scraped the floor.

"What did you do to him?"

"'E 'e 'e!" stammered the marine.

"He what?" said Jack, lifting the man several inches higher.

"'E didn't want to be arrested, Yer Honour! Excellency!"

Jack gave the marine a little shake. The man began to sweat heavily. Jack swatted a resisting hand against the wall.

"'E 'e 'e," continued the marine. "'E woke up, Excellency! As we was carryin' 'im! We wasn't expectin' it sir, an' 'e…" The marine panted and swallowed. "'E 'it our officer. Broke our lieutenant's nose! So we 'it 'im too! That is, sir, Yer Honour, Excellency, I didn't pers'nly! Jus' our lieutenant's orders!"

Jack frowned and turned to Stephen, his grasp on the marine's collar loosening slightly.

"Woke up? He shouldn't have been asleep to start with. He walked out of that ballroom himself, didn't he?"

The marine, who had been inching quietly away from Jack's iron fist, was slammed back against the wall.

"Ung!" he said, profoundly frustrated.

"Are you going to let him out?"

"I-I-I can't, sir, Yer Honour!" yelped the unfortunate man.

"Why not?" demanded Jack. The unfortunate marine suddenly became far more unfortunate as Jack's grip tightened. He made a choking noise. "He's done his night in the cells, surely?"
The marine gasped several times, swallowed (as much as he still could swallow) and said: "For what?"

"Drunkenness, what else?" said Jack, surprise loosening his death-grip slightly. "Shouldn't you be telling me that?"

"S'not…" began the marine, gasped, and then started again. "S'not 'ere f'drunkenness, sir."

"Then what?"

The marine looked like he wanted to die. "M-murder, sir," he said, faintly.

Jack dropped the marine.

He stepped back.

"What murder?"

The marine, now crumpled at the foot of the bars, said, "Of Captain Callum Clarke and Lieutenant James Calamy, sir. 'E… 'e was there at the scene, sir. An' them two dead an' blood all over the place and 'im the only one breathing and breathing rum, there's no question about it, sir."

There was a silence. "Open the door," said Jack quietly.

The marine scrambled to his feet. He took out the ring with the keys on it, and pushed the big rusty key into the lock, fingers shaking slightly.

The moment the key turned, Jack pushed open the door. He strode over to the prone figure and crouched down.

There was the slam of a door and then ringing footsteps.

"What's all this?"

He was a young man, with a thin, drawn face and a thin, drawn marine lieutenant's uniform.

He saw Jack and Stephen and what colour there had been drained from the lieutenant's face, rendering it as pasty as his hair.

"You sir!" he said. "Get out at once! Dravies you'll pay for this!" he added to the cowering marine.

"No," said Jack. "No he won't."

"What the devil…" then he saw Jack's uniform and faltered into: "Oh. As you wish, sir."

"Why is Lieutenant Pullings being held here? On what charge?"

"Lieutenant Pullings, indeed. We were unaware of his name. Lieutenant Pullings as you say, is here on a charge of the murder of two officers of the Royal Navy, one of whom is his superior. There is nothing you can do for him, captain. The court-martial starts on Monday and I have no doubt what the verdict will be. Now I must ask you to leave."

Jack turned back to Pullings. Turning him over, he said: "Oh Tom you young idiot. What have you got yourself into?"