There fell a terrible silence—a pause, as it were, of suspended vitality, while the iron bit deeper and deeper into tissues too numbed to feel.
Then, "Fetch me a drink!" said Merryon, curtly. "I must be getting back to duty."
And with soundless promptitude the man withdrew, thankful to make his escape.
CHAPTER XI
THE SACRED FIRE
"Well? Is she all right?" Almost angrily the colonel flung the question as his second-in-command came back heavy-footed through the rain. He had been through a nasty period of suspense himself during Merryon's absence.
Merryon nodded. His face was very pale and his lips seemed stiff.
"She has—gone, sir," he managed to say, after a moment.
"Gone, has she?" The colonel raised his brows in astonished interrogation. "What! Taken fright at last? Well, best thing she could do, all things considered. You ought to be very thankful."