took one of the scaling ropes that the Archbishop's men used, and which Count Heinrich captured, and, watching my opportunity when the sentinel was at the other end of the battlements, I clambered down to the foot of the wall, descended the hill, crawled through the lines unseen, and here I am. I was free from danger the moment I reached the village, for there are so many men hereabout that one more or less is not noticed, and luckily I am dressed as Treves men dress. I looked to have trouble in finding where you lived, but every one knew of the nurse Hilda, and spoke of her good deeds, so, not wishing to come upon you without warning, I asked the lad to bring you to a wounded soldier. It is not so long since I was one in reality."
"But you are not wounded now?" asked Hilda, anxiously.
"No. I am as well as ever again."
"And you have braved all this danger to see me?"
"Indeed the danger is but slight, Hilda, and I do not even see you plainly, but perhaps you will make amends for the darkness"; saying which the young man placed his arm about her and kissed her tenderly, and to this demonstration there was little opposition on the part of Hilda.
"Can you return unseen as you came?" she asked.
"With less difficulty. The archer is on guard from midnight until dawn, and even if he detected me, he would say nothing, for we are right good friends. We are comrades, both serving Lord Rodolph, and not the Black Count. I shall not return before midnight."
"Oh, but I dare not remain here so long. They would search for me, and you would be discovered."
"You will stay as long as you can, will you not, Hilda? When you are gone I shall make my way back through the lines and wait for the coming of the archer on the battlements, unless there is good opportunity of mounting before then."
"I like not all these risks for my sake, Conrad."
"I am more selfish than you think. It is for my own sake that I come."
And again he proved the truth of his statement, although the girl forbore to chide him for his levity of conduct.
"Have you seen my Lady? How is she?" asked Hilda.
"I see her but seldom, though she is well, I know."
The two were so absorbed in their converse that neither noticed gathering round them, stealthily enclosing them, a group of a dozen men led by an officer. They were therefore startled when the officer cried:
"Stand! Make no resistance. You are prisoner."
The men instantly closed in on Conrad and had him pinioned before he could think of escape.
"Why do you seize him?" said Hilda to the leader, hiding her agitation the better because of the darkness that surrounded them.
"He is a spy, gentle nurse," answered the officer in kindly tone, "and shall be hanged as one ere morning. His story of a wound is doubtless false. He gave the boy a coin with the effigy of the Count Heinrich on it, and one to whom the lad showed the coin sent warning to us. If this man can tell us how he came by such a silver piece, and can show us a wound got in honourable service under the Archbishop, then he will save his neck, but not otherwise. What questions did he ask you, nurse? I heard you talking together."
"None but those I might answer with perfect safety to both Archbishops."
"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."
"What am I to do?" cried the girl.
"It is better for you to go home, and when the captain comes I will let you know."
"But if he insists on executing the prisoner, then am I helpless. It will be impossible for me to see the Archbishop until morning."
"Has this man come from the castle?"
"If I answer, what use will you make of what I say?"
"I shall make no use of it, but will give you a hint."
"I trust to your word then. He did come from the castle."
"So I thought. Well, I am responsible for the spies. The captain is responsible for the imperviousness of the line round the castle, and he will be most loath for any one to tell the Archbishop that a man from the castle has broken through the lines to be captured by me on the bank of the river. If one man comes through why not all? will be the natural thought of the Archbishop. This I dare not suggest to the captain, but you may do so, if you find your resolution to see the Archbishop has no effect on him."
"I thank you," said Hilda, simply.
The lieutenant took her hand and whispered:
"What am I to get besides thanks for this valuable hint?"
He tried to draw the girl towards him but she held back, and said quietly:
"I will give you a hint for a hint. I call to your remembrance the words of the Archbishop concerning me. The benediction of our Holy Church protected me, he said."
The officer dropped her reluctant hand.
"I will inform you when the captain comes," he replied, turning away from her.
It was nearly midnight when the captain returned, the girl anxiously awaiting him. It was found, however, that her intercession was not necessary. The Archbishop, it seemed, had given general instructions that any one attempting to leave Thuron was to be sent back unharmed, on giving his parole that he would not again desert the stronghold. The shrewd prelate did not propose to help Heinrich indirectly by capturing and executing his men, thus leaving him with fewer mouths to fill. His object was to bring starvation to Thuron as speedily as possible, and it was not likely he would allow either death or imprisonment to be an ally of the Black Count. But a difficulty presented itself, for the prisoner, undeterred by threats, obstinately refused to give his word that he would not again attempt to break through the lines. In vain did the captain sternly acquaint him with the invariable fate of the spy, asserting that the clemency of the Archbishop arose through his Lordship's noted kindness of heart; that the terms of his liberation were simple and much more humane than any other commander in the world would impose; nevertheless, Conrad stoutly maintained that he would break through the lines whenever it pleased him to do so, and if they caught him next time they were quite welcome to hang him. The captain was nonplussed, for the prisoner asserted this with the rope actually round his neck. The lieutenant whispered that the nurse Hilda seemed to have wonderful influence over the man and proposed