"Manslaughter is the best we can hope for, and that will be extremely difficult to prove. But if we succeed, me sentence is largely at the discretion of the judge. It can be as little as a matter of months, or as great as ten years."
Bom Hester and Monk relaxed a little. Hester smiled bleakly.
"But we must prove it," Rathbone went on. "And that will be very hard to do. General Carlyon is a hero. People do not like their heroes tarnished, let alone utterly destroyed." He leaned back a little, sliding his hands into his pockets. "And we have had more than enough of that with the war. We have a tendency to see people as good or evil, it is so much easier both on the brain and on the emotions, but especially the emotions, to place people into one or the other category. Black or white. It is a painful adjustment to have to recognize and accommodate into our thinking the fact that people with great qualities which we have admired may also have ugly and profoundly repellent flaws."
He did not look at either of them, but at a space on the farther wall. "One then has to learn to understand, which is difficult and painful, unless one is to swing completely 'round, tear up one's admiration, and turn it into hate - which is also painful, and wrong, but so much easier. The wound of disillusion turns to rage because one has been let down. One's own sense of betrayal outweighs all else."
His delicate mouth registered wry pity.
"Disillusion is one of the most difficult of all emotions to wear gracefully, and with any honor. I am afraid we will not find many who will do it. People will be very reluctant to believe anything so disturbing. And we have had far too much disturbance to our settled and comfortable world lately as it is - first the war, and all the ugly whispers there are of inefficiency and needless death, and now wind of mutiny in India. God knows how bad that will turn out to be."
He slid a little farther down in his chair. "We need our heroes. We don't want them proved to be weak and ugly, to practice vices we can barely even bring ourselves to name-let alone against their own children."
"I don't care a damn whether people like it or not," Monk said violently. "It is true. We must force them to see it. Would they rather we hang an innocent woman, before we oblige them to see a truth which is disgusting?"
"Some of them well might." Rathbone looked at him with a faint smile. "But I don't intend to allow them that luxury."
"If they would, then there is not much hope for our society," Hester said in a small voice. "When we are happy to turn from evil because it is ugly, and causes us distress, then we condone it and become party to its continuance. Little by little, we become as guilty of it as those who commit the act - because we have told them by our silence that it is acceptable."
Rathbone glanced at her, his eyes bright and soft.
"Then we must prove it," Monk said between his teem. "We must make it impossible for anyone to deny or evade."
"I will try." Rathbone looked at Hester, then at Monk. "But we haven't enough here yet. I'll need more. Ideally I need to name the other members of the ring, if there is one, and from what you say" - he turned to Hester - "there may be several members. And of course I dare not name anyone without proof. Cassian is only eight. J may be able to call him; that will depend upon the judge. But his testimony alone will certainly not be sufficient."
"I think Damaris might know," Hester said thoughtfully. "I'm not certain, but she undoubtedly discovered something at the party that evening, and it shook her so desperately she was hardly able to keep control of herself."
"We have several people's testimony to that," Monk added.
"If she will admit it, that will go a long way towards belief," Rathbone said guardedly. "But it will not be easy to make her. She is called as a witness for the prosecution."
"Damaris is?" Hester was incredulous. "But why? I thought she was on our side."
Rathbone smiled without pleasure. "She has no choice. The prosecution has called her, and she must come, or risk