The crux of the situation, as Alan well knew, lay in establishing that the present detention of Henri Duval was procedurally wrong under the law, and therefore illegal. If this could be proven, the Court – in the person of Mr Justice Willis – must automatically issue a writ of habeas corpus, ordering the stowaway's release from the ship and his appearance before the court for consideration of his case.

Marshalling the arguments, and quoting statutes in support, Alan felt some of his confidence return. He was careful to confine himself to legal points only, leaving the emotional aspect of the stowaway's plight unspoken. Law, not sentiment, was what counted here. As he spoke the judge listened impassively, his expression unchanging.

Turning from the question of illegal detention to the present status of Henri Duval, Alan declared, 'It is argued by the Department of Immigration, my lord, that since my client is a stowaway and allegedly without documents, he has no legal rights and therefore cannot demand – as others may do at any Canadian port of entry – a special inquiry into his immigrant status. But it is my contention that the fact of his being a stowaway and apparently uncertain of his birthplace in no way detracts from this right.

'If Your Lordship will consider certain possibilities: a Canadian citizen by birth, travelling abroad and held unlawfully in custody, with papers taken from him, might find his only means of escape by stowing aboard a ship he knows to be destined to this country. Would he, in such case, because of his description as a stowaway and the absence of papers, be relegated to apparent non-existence, unable to prove his lawful right to enter Canada because an inquiry by the Department of Immigration had been denied him? I suggest, my lord, that this absurd situation could, in fact, exist if the department's present ruling were carried to its logical conclusion.'

The judge's bushy eyebrows went up. 'You're not suggesting, are you, that your client Henri Duval is a Canadian citizen?'

Alan hesitated, then replied carefully, 'That is not my suggestion, my lord. On the other hand, an immigration inquiry might reveal him as a Canadian, a fact which could not be established without the inquiry first.' When you had a weak case and knew it, Alan thought, even straws should be grasped at firmly.

'Well,' Mr Justice Willis said, and for the first time his face had the ghost of a smile, 'it's an ingenious argument, if a little thin. Is that all, Mr Maitland?'

Instinct told Alan: quit when you're ahead. He gave the slightest of bows. 'With respect, my lord, that is my submission.'

In the desk lamp's glow Mr Justice Willis sat meditatively silent. The momentary smile had gone, his face once more a stern immobile mask. The fingers of his right hand drummed the desk top softly. After a while he began, 'There is, of course, a time element involved – the question of the ship's sailing…'

Alan interjected, 'If Your Lordship pleases: in the matter of the ship…' He was about to explain the Vastervik's delay in Vancouver for repairs but stopped abruptly. At the interruption the judge's face had clouded angrily, his eyes beneath the bushy eyebrows bleak. Across the room Alan could sense the clerk's reproach. He swallowed. 'I beg Your Lordship's pardon.'

Briefly Mr Justice Willis stared coldly at the young lawyer. Then he continued, 'As I was about to observe, although there is a time limit involved, namely the question of the ship's departure, this must not interfere in any way with a matter of individual justice.'

Alan's heart leaped. Did this mean that the writ of habeas corpus was to be granted?… that afterwards he could take his time about procedure, moving slowly through successive legal steps while the Vastervik sailed, leaving Henri Duval behind?

'On the other hand,' the judge's voice proceeded evenly, 'as a matter of public policy, and in fairness to the shipping company concerned, which is somewhat an innocent bystander in this affair, it is equally pertinent that everything possible should be done to expedite procedure so as to render a final decision before the ship's normal sailing.'

So the optimism had been premature. Gloomily Alan reflected that not only Edgar Kramer, but now this judge, had seen through his ruse of a delaying action.

'I consider the matter of illegal detention not proven.' His lordship drew the submissions towards him and made a pencilled notation. 'But neither is it disproven and I am prepared to hear further argument. I shall therefore allow an order nisi.'

It was not defeat then, but partial victory, and a wave of relief swept over Alan. True he had achieved less than hoped for, but at least he had not made a fool of himself. The order nisi – the old English legal procedure – meant 'unless'. The nisi writ alone would not free Henri Duval from his shipboard prison and bring him before the Court. But it did mean that Edgar Kramer and Captain Jaabeck were to be summoned here to explain their stand. And unless their arguments -'or those of legal counsel – prevailed, the habeas corpus writ, releasing Duval, would follow.

'In the course of events, Mr Maitland, when will the ship sail?'

The eyes of Mr Justice Willis were upon him. Alan paused, wary before speaking, then realized the question was addressed directly.

'As far as I can learn, my lord, the ship will be here another two weeks.'

The judge nodded. 'It should be sufficient.'

'And the hearing on the writ, my lord?'

Mr Justice Willis pulled a desk calendar towards him. 'We should set the date, I think, for three days' time. If that is convenient.' It was the traditional courteous exchange between judge and lawyer, no matter how junior the latter might be.

Alan inclined his head. 'Yes, my lord.'

'You will have the papers drawn, of course.'

'If Your Lordship pleases, I have them ready.' Alan opened the briefcase.

'An order nisi'?''

'Yes, my lord. I foresaw that possibility.'

The moment the words were out Alan regretted them, as youthful and brash. In the ordinary way the writ would have been typed and submitted for the judge's signature next day. It had been Alan's idea to prepare a final order for signing promptly, and Tom Lewis had suggested the addition of an order nisi. Now, with slightly less assurance, Alan laid the typed pages, clipped together on the judge's desk.

Mr Justice Willis' expression had not changed, except for a slight crinkling around the eyes. He said impassively, 'In that event, Mr Maitland, there will be a time saving and I suggest we bring on the hearing sooner. Shall we say the day after tomorrow?'

Mentally Alan Maitland denounced his own stupidity. Instead of furthering the delay he sought, he had succeeded merely in speeding things up. He wondered if he should request more time, pleading the need for preparation. He caught the eye of the clerk who shook his head imperceptibly.

With inward resignation Alan said, 'Very well, my lord. The day after tomorrow.'

Mr Justice Willis read the order, then carefully signed it, the clerk blotting and gathering the page. As he watched, Alan remembered the arrangements he had made earlier for service of the document if his plan succeeded. Tom Lewis would go to the Vastervik, tonight, with Captain Jaabeck's copy and explain its contents. Tom, in any case, had been keen to see the ship and meet both the captain and Henri Duval.

For himself Alan had reserved what he thought of as a particular pleasure: attendance at the Department of Immigration and service of the order personally upon Edgar S. Kramer.