WFTB: Section 4

“You have been treasonously consorting with the enemy.” He says.
So it is out. “Treasonously consorting.”: a phrase out of a book.
“We are at peace here,” I say, “We have no enemies. There is silence. “Unless I make a mistake,” I say. “Unless we are the enemy.”
I am not sure that he understands me. “The natives are at war with us,” he says. I doubt he has ever seen a barbarian in his life.
. . .
With my bedroll and the old bear-fur under my arm I enter my cell. The soot-marks are still on the wall where the brazier used to stand. The door closes and darkness falls.

Now that the magistrate has been imprisoned for standing up for the barbarians, does our perception of him change? In what way? Were our previous judgments of his character fair? Why or why not?