“Not guilty.” In a few moments Lazar entered the courtroom. He was calm and self-possessed. He walked up to the president promptly and took the oath; then he sat down carelessly in the witness chair, and turned upon Phil a cold scrutinizing gaze. Lazar told his story to the hushed court. Phil knew it was the truth, but not the whole truth which Lazar had sworn to tell. The witness had finished; the judge advocate turned to Phil, questioningly. “Do you wish to interrogate the witness?” he asked. Phil shook his head and Lazar withdrew from the room, casting an incredulous look at the accused midshipman. The judge advocate ceased his writing and looked up at the president of the court. “Mr. President,” he announced slowly, “there is no other witness for the prosecution. Ensign Lazar’s testimony is not disputed; it proves every word of the charges against the accused.” He sat down in silence, then he glanced quickly at Sydney, sitting stunned by Phil’s side. “The defense begins,” he added. The two lads exchanged glances. O’Neil had not returned. “Who is your first witness?” asked the judge advocate impatiently. Sydney was about to speak; he would ask to be put in the witness chair; he could tell the true story to the court; surely they would see it was the truth, but Phil’s quiet resigned voice cut short his intentions. “I have no witnesses to call,” he said in a low voice. The court was astounded; its members looked surprisedly at one another. The president arose to his feet. “Mr. Perry,” he began, “do you understand the gravity of these charges? Can you make no defense? Can you give no reason, no excuse for your extraordinary conduct? Will you not make a statement to the court? Your record at the Naval Academy and here on the ‘Connecticut’ is too good to be so stained without some reason.” The court showed their accord by nods of assent. Phil turned to Sydney, a look of pain in his eyes. “O’Neil has failed,” Sydney whispered; “he would come direct to the court if he were on board.” Phil arose to his feet, his face pale and anxious. The court was silent, in breathless expectancy. “I can offer no excuse, sir,” he said in a voice suppressed with emotion. “I can only say that I acted according to my belief in what was my duty.” His face became suffused with embarrassment as he realized how odd his words must sound to these officers who knew nothing of the real circumstances; but he must gain time; perhaps even now O’Neil was returning with the missing witness. Once the trial was finished he would stand convicted and even Craig’s testimony could not change the decision of the court. “My first duty was to remain where I was, and to do this it was necessary that I should disobey Mr. Lazar’s direct order. I can say no more,” he said finally, covered with confusion.