To do Burnett justice, he did not seem at all happy at having to tell his tale again. If his original report had really been made under a sudden impulse of spite and revenge (and, however that may be, he could certainly have made a very different report), I think perhaps he had not realized how far the matter would go--had not imagined that it would come to a Court-Martial, and now regretted it. But it was too late. He could not eat his words. And that was the devil of it. Burnett might have made a different report; Philpott could have 'arranged things' with the Brigade--could have had Harry sent to the Base on the ground of his record and medical condition, and not have applied for a Court-Martial. But once those 'hard facts' came before the Court, to be examined under that procedure, simply as 'hard facts'--an officer ordered up with a party and important stores; some of the party scattered; officer seen running, _running_, mind you--in the wrong direction; officer 'shaken' on the evidence of his men, and refusing to obey an order--it was too late to wonder whether the case should ever have come there. That was Philpott's business. _He_ did not seem disturbed. He even mentioned--casually--that 'there had been a similar incident with this officer once before, when his conduct with a working-party by no means satisfied me.' Quite apart from the monstrous misrepresentation of the thing, the statement was wholly inadmissible at that stage, and the President stopped him. But that also was too late. It had sunk in.... And so the evidence went slowly on, unshaken--not that it was all unshakable; no one tried to shake it. After Philpott came Peters, the N.C.O., a good fellow. He told the Court what Harry had said about 'going back to wait a bit,' instead of going straight on when the party collected again. They asked him, 'Was there any reason why the party should not have gone on then?' 'Well, sir,' he said, 'the shelling was bad, and we should have had some casualties, but I daresay we should have got through. I've seen as bad before.' Then there was one of the men who had been with Harry, a good fellow, who hated being there. He told the story of the movements of the party with the usual broken irrelevances, but by his too obvious wish to help Harry did him no good. When asked 'in what condition' the officer was, he said, 'Well, sir, he seemed to have lost his nerve, like ... we all of us had as far as that goes, the shelling was that 'eavy.' But that was no defence for Harry. Harry could either 'make a statement' not on oath, or give evidence on oath and be cross-examined. He chose the latter--related simply the movements of the party and himself, and did not deny any of the facts of which evidence had already been given. 'When you had collected the party under the bank by this corner you speak of,' said the President, 'why did you not then proceed with the party?'