He expected to be brought before the court early in the morning but, in fact, he was called out in less than an hour, and taken into the dining-room of the parsonage.  Here, at the head of the table, sat an officer in a colonel’s uniform; Colonel Goldapp, unquestionably, presiding over the court, which included four officers beside himself.  Fred knew enough of the military law to understand what was going on.  He saw a young lieutenant sitting with some papers before him.  Another came and drew him aside.

“I am to defend you,” this officer said, pleasantly.  “That is, of course, I am to see that you get fair treatment.  You are accused of being a spy.  The charge, as I understand it, is that you are a Russian, but have disguised yourself as a German.  If this is true, the best advice I can give you is to plead guilty and throw yourself on the mercy of the court.  Your age will be taken into consideration.”

“I am not a Russian,” said Fred, quickly.  “I am an American.  I demand an opportunity to see the American ambassador, or at least the nearest American consul.”

“Is that all?”

“That is all I can say.  It is true that I am an American, and I believe it is my right, as a foreigner, to ask to see the representative of my country, since America and Germany are not at war, but are friendly one to the other.”

“That would be true if you were charged with an offence in a civil court.  But in a court-martial there are no such rules.  Once more, I believe your best course is to plead guilty.  I do not know the evidence against you, but I can tell you that the court might be merciful if you admitted your guilt frankly, while it would probably treat you more harshly if you forced it to prove your guilt.”

Fred shook his head, however.  And so the trial began.  It was a real trial, and fair enough, but a trial by court-martial is not like one in a civil court, especially in time of war.  There were no delays.  The judge-advocate stated the case against Fred very briefly.  He called as witness the officer who had brought Fred into headquarters, who said that the prisoner had been entirely willing to come.  Then the corporal who had found him testified.  And the third witness, when he was called, was none other than Lieutenant Ernst, who had befriended Fred at Virballen!  At the sight of him Fred’s heart sank.  He began to understand what a strong case there really was against him.

At Ernst’s first words there was almost a sensation, for the lieutenant brought out the fact that Fred was related to the Suvaroff family.  The fact that Fred had gone straight to the house of his kinsman came out as a result of Ernst’s evidence, and Fred knew that it would be useless to say that this had been the result of pure chance, and that he had not even known of Boris’s existence.  It was true, but it was none the less incredible.  It was easy to see when Ernst had finished giving his testimony, which he did reluctantly, and with a good deal of sympathy for Fred, that the court had made up its mind.