A week later Ned stood at the gate of Kingston Fort. He had lost his way completely in the woods, and had been found by a hunting party of Indians, who when they had got enough game, took it and him to Kingston. So Ned told his story, bewildered at the looks of the men who questioned him. What had he done but try to join his captain and company? Then suddenly his arms were jerked behind him and his wrists shackled with steel. Ned's eyes flamed, and he felt himself shaken with fury and resentment. But surely his father was there, and would never let any injustice be done him. He was still looking for Edgar when he was brought before a court of bleak-eyed men, who were in hourly expectation of an attack on Kingston. Newark had sent for help they could not give--and they were in no mood to have mercy on anyone who did not do his duty at such a time. Ned's brain reeled as he heard the charge against him--of disobedience and cowardice. In a voice he did not recognize as his own, he answered, "I never saw this letter, sir, nor heard of it till now." "Enter the plea, 'Not Guilty'," said the President shortly, as Roke was called, and told to tell what he had really seen. "This man is my enemy," said Ned in a low tone to the officer appointed as his counsel, "He is saying this in revenge for a trick he thinks I played on him. If Ensign Haslem were alive and here he would say he gave me nothing. We only shook hands." "Oh, you thought Ensign Haslem was dead and you could face the rest out," said the man. "You are certainly a cool one." Ned did not hear him, Roke had told his tale and stepped down, and Vere, ghastly pale and limping, was taking the solemn oath. Then with no thought but to save himself, he betrayed the friend who had saved him--to death. In a low voice but without hesitation he answered the questions put him. Like one in the grip of a ghastly nightmare Ned looked 'round him. He saw his father, with eyes that had love frozen in them. He knew Edgar believed him guilty too, and he looked despairingly through the window where the careless sunshine flashed on the open water under the tender May sky. Would God, who was so careful of the spring flowers and nesting birds, let the clean name he valued far more than life be taken from him? Was there any God? The room grew black round him for an instant, for they were sentencing him to die--as a coward. The instinct of his blood made him set his teeth, and force himself to face them calmly--to walk steadily from the room, and back to his prison. But something seemed to give way in his brain, and when they left him there, chained in the darkness, he was very near the black bounds of insanity. Vere had left the court directly he gave his evidence, and he looked in blank horror at Sir John when he heard the sentence, "You have influence, sir," he panted, "I thought--I hoped you would help him. He is not as much to blame as you think, and he saved me."