“By heaven!” he mutters, “that’s how it happened, is it? Look at them go!” for going they were, in spiral eddies or fluttering skips, up the grassy “quad,” and over among the rose-bushes of Alice Renwick’s garden.  Over on the other side of the narrow, old-fashioned frontier fort the men were bustling about, and their exultant, eager voices rang out on the morning air.  All was life and animation, and even in Jerrold’s selfish soul there rose responsive echo to the soldierly spirit that seemed to pervade the whole command.  It was their first summons to active field-duty with prospective battle since he had joined, and, with all his shortcomings as a “duty” officer in garrison and his many frailties of character, Jerrold was not the man to lurk in the rear when there was danger ahead.  It dawned on him with sudden and crushing force that now it lay in the power of his enemies to do him vital injury,—­that he could be held here at the post like a suspected felon, a mark for every finger, a target for every tongue, while every other officer of his regiment was hurrying with his men to take his knightly share in the coming onset.  It was intolerable, shameful.  He paced the floor of his little parlor in nervous misery, ever and anon gazing from the window for sight of his captain.  It was to him he had written, urging that he be permitted a few moments’ talk.  “This is no time for a personal misunderstanding,” he wrote.  “I must see you at once.  I can clear away the doubts, can explain my action; but, for heaven’s sake, intercede for me with Captain Chester that I may go with the command.”

As luck would have it, Armitage was with Chester at the office when the letter was handed in.  He opened it, gave a whistle of surprise, and simply held it forth to the temporary commander.

“Read that,” he said.

Chester frowned, but took the note and looked it curiously over.

“I have no patience with the man now,” he said.  “Of course after what I saw last night I begin to understand the nature of his defence; but we don’t want any such man in the regiment, after this.  What’s the use of taking him with us?”

“That isn’t the point,” said Armitage.  “Now or never, possibly, is the time to clear up this mystery.  Of course Maynard will be up to join us by the first train; and what won’t it be worth to him to have positive proof that all his fears were unfounded?”

“Even if it wasn’t Jerrold, there is still the fact that I saw a man clambering out of her window.  How is that to be cleared up?” said Chester, gloomily.

“That may come later, and won’t be such a bugbear as you think.  If you were not worried into a morbid condition over all this trouble, you would not look so seriously upon a thing which I regard as a piece of mere night prowling, with a possible spice of romance.”

“What romance, I’d like to know?”