Ten minutes after the usual time the adjutant darted in and plunged with his characteristic impetuosity into the pile of passes and other papers stacked up by the sergeant-major at his table. To all questions as to where he had been and what was the matter with the colonel he replied, with more than usual asperity of manner,--the asperity engendered of some years of having to answer the host of questions propounded by vacant minds at his own busiest hour of the day,--that the colonel would tell them all about it himself; _he_ had no time for a word. The evident manner of suppressed excitement, however, was something few failed to note; and every man in the room felt certain that when the colonel came there would be a revelation. It was with something bordering on indignation, therefore, that the assemblage heard the words that intimated to them that all might retire. The colonel had come in very quietly, received the report of the officer of the day, relieved him, and dismissed the new officer of the day with the brief formula, "Usual orders, sir," then glanced quickly around the silent circle of grave, bearded or boyish faces. His eyes rested for an instant with something like shock and trouble upon one face, pale, haggard, with almost bloodless lips, and yet full of fierce determination,--a face that haunted him long afterwards, it was so full of agony, of suspense, almost of pleading,--the face of Captain Rayner. Then, dispensing with the customary talk, he quietly spoke the disappointing words,-- "I am somewhat late this morning, gentlemen, and several matters will occupy my attention: so I will not detain you further."