Arrelsford would have defied the General if there had been the least use in the world in doing it, but the game was clearly up for the present. He would try to arrange to have Thorne rearrested and tried as a spy later. Now he could do nothing. He walked out of the room, pride enabling him to keep up a brave front, but with disappointment and resentment raging in his heart. He did not realise that his power over Thorne had been withdrawn. In the great game that they had played, he had lost at all points. They all watched him go, not a single one in the room with sympathy, or even pity.
“Now, Sergeant,” said the General, as they heard the heavy hall door close; “I want to speak to the prisoner.”
“Order arms!” cried the Sergeant. “Parade rest!” As the squad assumed these positions in obedience to his commands, the Sergeant continued, “Fall out the prisoner.”
Thorne stepped forward one pace from the ranks, and saluted the General. He kept his eyes fixed upon that gentleman, and it was only the throbbing of his heart that made him aware that Edith Varney was by his side. She bent her head toward him; he felt her warm breath against his cheek as she whispered:
“Oh! Why didn’t you tell me? I thought you sent it, I thought you——”
“Miss Varney!” exclaimed the General in surprise.
But Edith threw maidenly reserve to the winds. The suddenness of the revelation overwhelmed her.
“There is nothing against him, General Randolph, now; is there? He didn’t send it. There’s nothing to try him for!” she said.
General Randolph smiled grimly at her.
“You are very much mistaken, Miss Varney,” he answered. “The fact of his being caught in our lines without his proper uniform is enough to hang him in ten minutes.”