The great gray building was now closed up, silent and grim as ever, and to all appearance untenanted.
When the commander appeared, there was a dead silence. He had not greeted either Bowman or Harrod, except by stiffly answering their salute, and now the two officers repaired to their places in the line of battle.
Then the acting-adjutant gave the order “present arms!” and turned over the parade to his commander in due form. Clark drew his sword once more, and rode forward to near the center of the line. His face was particularly grim at the moment, and the silence was breathless.
“The acting-adjutant will take a sergeant and twelve men,” said Clark, in a clear, hard tone, “from the right of the regiment. He will enter that building, and bring forth Adjutant John Frank, now under arrest, under guard, and report to me, here.”
In dead silence the order was obeyed.
The little adjutant himself, in full uniform, with a snowy peruke covering his black locks, trim and dainty, in a laced suit of blue and silver, made his appearance in the doorway, bowed politely to the officer, and advanced into the middle of his guards, as if by a previous understanding.
Then he was marched up to the colonel, who dismissed guard and acting-adjutant alike to their places, with a sign, when colonel and adjutant stood looking at each other. The little officer was quiet, dignified, and serious, without a particle of the old sauciness. He looked his commander full in the face without blenching, and Clark said, in a very distinct tone:
“Sir, you are relieved from arrest. Take your post at parade.”