Silence for a moment. The angry flush on Jerrold's face was dying away, and in its place an ashen pallor was spreading from throat to brow; his lips were twitching ominously. Sloat looked in consternation at the sudden change.
"Shall I go?" he finally asked.
Jerrold looked long, fixedly, searchingly in the set face of the officer of the day, breathing hard and heavily. What he saw there Sloat could not imagine. At last his hand dropped by his side; he made a little motion with it, a slight wave towards the door, and again dropped it nervously. His lips seemed to frame the word "Go," but he never glanced at the man whom a moment before he so masterfully bade to stay; and Sloat, sorely puzzled, left the room.
Not until his footsteps had died out of hearing did Chester speak:
"How soon can you leave the post?"
"I don't understand you."
"How soon can you pack up what you need to take and—get away?"
"Get away where? What on earth do you mean?"
"You must know what I mean! You must know that after last night's work you quit the service at once and forever."
"I don't know anything of the kind; and I defy you to prove the faintest thing." But Jerrold's fingers were twitching, and his eyes had lost their light.