Jerrold hesitated.  He was thunderstruck by the sudden appearance of the captain whom he had believed to be hundreds of miles away.  He connected his return unerringly with the web of trouble which had been weaving about him of late.  He conceived himself to have been most unjustly spied upon and suspected, and was full of resentment at the conduct of Captain Chester.  But Chester was an old granny, who sometimes made blunders and had to back down.  It was a different thing when Armitage took hold.  Jerrold looked sulkily into the clear, stern, blue eyes a moment, and the first impulse of rebellion wilted.  He gave one irresolute glance around the quadrangle, then motioned with his hand to the open door.  Something of the old, jaunty, Creole lightness of manner reasserted itself.

“After you, captain,” he said.

XIII.

Once within-doors, it was too dark for Armitage to see the features of his lieutenant; and he had his own reasons for desiring to read them.  Mr. Jerrold, on the other hand, seemed disposed to keep in the shadows as much as possible.  He made no movement to open the shutters of the one window which admitted light from the front, and walked back to his bedroom door, glanced in there as though to see that there were no occupants, then carefully closed it as he returned to face his captain.  He took off his helmet and placed it on the centre-table, then, thrusting his thumbs inside the handsome, gold-broidered sword-belt, stood in a jaunty attitude but with a very uneasy look in his eyes to hear what his senior might have to say.  Between the two men an invitation to sit would have been a superfluity.  Neither had ever remained long enough in the other’s quarters, since the exchange of the first calls when Jerrold came to the garrison, to render a chair at all necessary.

“Be good enough to strike a light, Mr. Jerrold,” said Armitage, presently, seeing that his unwilling host made no effort on his own account.

“I proposed going out at once, captain, and presume you cannot have any very extended remarks to make.”

“You cannot see the writing I have to call your attention to without a light.  I shall detain you no longer than is necessary.  Had you an engagement?”

“Nothing of great consequence.  I presume it will keep.”

“It will have to.  The matter I have come upon will admit no further delay.  Light your lamp, if you please.”

And Jerrold did so, slowly and with much reluctance.  He wiped his forehead vigorously the instant the flame began to splutter, but as the clear, steady light of the argand gradually spread over the little room Armitage could see the sweat again beading his forehead, and the dark eyes were glancing nervously about, and the hands that were so firm and steady and fine the year before and held the Springfield in so light yet immovable an aim were twitching now.  It was no wonder Jerrold’s score had dropped some thirty per cent.  His nerve had gone to pieces.