"Ah, nurse, you know much of healing, but little of camp life, I fear. A question that may appear trivial to you is like to seem important to his Lordship. We give short trials to spies, which is the rule of war everywhere, and always must be."
"He is no spy," maintained Hilda stoutly. "If you hold him, I will go myself to the Archbishop and claim his release. You must give me your word that nothing shall be done until I return."
"It is better to see the captain before troubling the Archbishop with so small a matter."
"A man's life is no small matter."
"Indeed you will find the Archbishop attaches but little importance to it. The case will go before the captain, and it will be well for you to see him, for he may release the man if he wishes. I must hold him prisoner in the square tower until I am told to let him go or to hang him."
With this the officer moved his men on, the silent prisoner in their midst, to the square tower which stood over the centre street of the place. Hilda followed, not knowing what to do.
"I will see the captain," said the officer, evidently desiring to befriend her, "and I will tell you what his decision is. Then you may perhaps be able to give him good reason why the prisoner should be released, or the man himself may be able to prove his innocence. In that case your intervention will not be needed."
The prisoner had been taken up the narrow stair that led to a room in the tower above the arch that spanned the street.
"I will await you here," said Hilda. She walked up and down in the contracted street until the officer returned.
"I am sorry to say," he began, "that the captain has gone to the Archbishop's tent and no one knows when he will return."