The court-martial was over and Dick could not question the justice of its sentence—he was dismissed from the army. Indeed, it was better than he had expected. Somewhat to his surprise, the Adjutant afterward saw him alone.
“I’m thankful our official duty’s done,” he said. “Of course, I’m taking an irregular line, and if you prefer not to talk—”
“You made me feel that you wanted to be my friend,” Dick replied awkwardly.
“Then I may, perhaps, remark that you made a bad defense. In the army, it’s better to tell a plausible tale and stick to it; we like an obvious explanation. Now if you had admitted being slightly drunk.”
“But I was sober!”
The Adjutant smiled impatiently.
“So much the worse for you! If you had been drunk, you’d have been turned out all the same, but the reason would have been, so to speak, satisfactory. Now you’re tainted by a worse suspicion. Personally, I don’t think the lost plans have any value, but if they had, it might have gone very hard with you.” He paused and gave Dick a friendly glance. “Well, in parting, I’ll give you a bit of advice. Stick to engineering, which you have a talent for.”
He went out and not long afterward Dick left the camp in civilian’s clothes, but stopped his motorcycle on the hill and stood looking back with a pain at his heart. He saw the rows of tents stretched across the smooth pasture, the flag he had been proud to serve languidly flapping on the gentle breeze, and the water sparkling about the bridge. Along the riverside, bare-armed men in shirts and trousers were throwing up banks of soil with shovels that flashed in the strong light. He could see their cheerful brown faces and a smart young subaltern taking out a measuring line. Dick liked the boy, who now no doubt would pass him without a look, and he envied him with the keenest envy he had ever felt. He had loved his profession; and he was turned out of it in disgrace.
It was evening when he stood in the spacious library at home, glad that the light was fading, as he confronted his father, who sat with grim face in a big leather chair. Dick had no brothers and sisters, and his mother had died long before. He had not lived much at home, and had been on good, more than affectionate, terms with his father. Indeed, their relations were marked by mutual indulgence, for Dick had no interest outside his profession, while Mr. Brandon occupied himself with politics and enjoyed his prominent place in local society. He was conventional and his manners were formal and dignified, but Dick thought him very much like Lance, although he had not Lance’s genial humor.