Berkley rode up and saluted.
"Ride with me," said Colonel Arran calmly.
"Sir?"
"Rein up on the left." And, turning in his saddle, he motioned back his escort twenty paces to the rear. Then he walked his big, bony roan forward.
"Ormond?"
"Yes, Colonel."
"You ran the guard?"
"Yes, Colonel."
"Why?"
Berkley was silent.