On reaching camp and reporting himself, Dick was sent to his tent, where
he slept until he was aroused by the bustle at reveille. He had not
expected to sleep; but he was young and physically tired, and the shock
of trouble had, as sometimes happens, a numbing effect. He awoke
refreshed and composed, though his heart was heavy as he dressed, because
he feared it was the last time that he would wear his country's uniform.
The suspense was trying as he waited until the morning parade was over;
then he was summoned to a tent where the Colonel and the Adjutant sat.
"I have a telegram asking if you have arrived," the Colonel said in a
curious, dry tone. "You must understand that you have laid yourself open
to grave suspicion."
"Yes," Dick answered, wondering whether the Colonel meant that it might
have been better if he had run away.
"Very well. You admitted having received the plans. What did you do with
them?"
"Buttoned them into the left pocket of my coat. When I got to Storeton,
the envelope was gone."
"How do you account for that?"
"I can't account for it, sir."
The Colonel was silent for a few moments, and then he looked fixedly at
Dick.
"Your statements were very unsatisfactory last night, and now that you
have had time to think over the matter, I advise you to be frank. It's
plain that you have been guilty of gross negligence, but that is not the
worst. The drawings are of no direct use to the enemy, but if they fell
into their hands they might supply a valuable hint of the use to which we
mean to put the pontoons. You see what this implies?"
"I don't know how we mean to use them, sir, and I don't want to hide
anything."
"That's a wise resolve," the Colonel answered meaningly; and Dick
colored. After all, there was something he meant to hide.
"You took the plans with you when you left the camp, three or four hours
before you were due at Storeton," said the Adjutant. "Where did you go?"
"To my cousin's rooms in the town."
"Mr. Lance Brandon's," said the Adjutant thoughtfully. "Did you stay
there?"
"No; we dined at The George."
"A well-conducted house," the Adjutant remarked. "You took some wine at
dinner?"
"Two glasses of light claret."
"Then where did you go next?"
"To the new music-hall."
"And ordered drinks in the bar! Who suggested this?"
"I can't remember," Dick replied with an angry flush. "Of course, I see
where you're leading, but I was quite sober when I left the hall."
The Adjutant's expression puzzled him. He had felt that the man was not
unfriendly, and now he looked disappointed.