However, she felt it her duty to do what she could for him. She went to the Herr Lieutenant Count von Harden to beg the favor of Erard's release.
"And by my life, Fräulein!" declared the count, "I know not what to do with him unless it is to let you have him. He is no good as an ordinary prisoner to us, that is certain. He can neither dig nor fight.
"But he must not be allowed to escape again at night. I tell you! He shall be made to sleep in the guardhouse. He is not to be trusted to watch your ward. You may have him to assist you during the day. At night he must be a prisoner. But let him sleep off his potations now."
"Many thanks, gnädiger Herr," Belinda said.
"The pleasure is mine," the young nobleman replied, his mean little eyes devouring the figure of the nurse in her neat uniform.
She had come to his quarters outside the hospital enclosure with a permit from the Herr Doktor. The lieutenant had established himself royally in what had been the village inn, and because of his wealth and station had half a dozen orderlies and servants at his call.
"Is there nothing more I can do for you, my pretty Fräulein?" urged the lieutenant, rising to approach her. "Life is none too gay in this forlorn spot, but a bottle of good wine helps one to forget these horrors of war," and he laughed. "Have you supped, Mademoiselle?"
"Thank you sir," she said quietly. "We nurses are forbidden any gaiety while on duty."
"Soh? Even the French nurses?" he inquired slyly.
She laughed as lightly as she could under the circumstances. Yet she well understood that he hinted of secret information regarding her true identity. "I am scarcely French, Herr Lieutenant. I am of American birth and partly German ancestry. I could not sup with you in any case. The Herr Doktor would forbid it, I am sure."