In civil life this officer had been a well known lawyer who had abandoned a large practice to take upon himself the over work and worries that always hurl themselves at an adjutant.
He had heard of the rescue of Lieutenant Devlin by a man of his company and was pleased to learn that it was an alumnus of his old college who had been recommended for a decoration on that account. He looked at Trent a moment in silence.
“When I last saw you,” he said, “you won the game for us against Harvard.” He sighed, “I never thought to see you in a case of this sort.”
“I don’t know what you mean, sir,” Trent answered him.
“For some reason or another,” the adjutant informed him, “Lieutenant Devlin has preferred charges against you which had better been left until this war is over in my opinion as a soldier.”
“I am still in the dark,” Trent reminded him.
Captain Sutton looked over some papers.
“You are charged,” he said, “with being a very remarkable and much sought after criminal. Devlin asserts you purloined a ruby owned by Mr. Dangerfield worth a hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars, and an emerald worth almost as much.”
“What a curious delusion,” Trent commented with calmness.
“Delusion?” retorted the adjutant.