Page:The Jail, Experiences in 1916.pdf/100

 were watching to see that he did not communicate with Dr. Rašín, who was walking at a leisurely pace as if he were not in jail at all; but I had to jump down, a defence-corps man had noticed me and made a threatening gesture.

Dr. Kramář… we have met… and here… what will come of it all? It is hard to imagine. My native land reminds me of a grayish, inpenetrable mist. I did not know what was happening there, I did not know whether any faith or any hope was left there, or whether anybody was thinking of us and of what was coming. Still, the mist will fade away, the sun must appear, but shall we also see it rise? And if not… exoriare aliquis there is no policy more suicidal than to manufacture martyrs for a discontented nation.

"Dr. Kramář is a very gifted man" remarked the sergeant.

"Assuredly."

"And that is how he races along day after day. You can't call it walking."

"Where is Dr. Kramář?" asked Smrecsanyi and climbed up on the straw mattresses.

"Get down. If they report you, I shall be mixed up in it", and the sergeant Zimmerkommandant gave him a push.

The sergeant was a Viennese and consequently an anti-Semite by birth—of course, he did not know that Dr. Smrecsanyi was römisch-katolisch and on the editorial staff of the pious Reichspost.

The air in the room was damp, the floor still moist. I jumped down and measured it off. It was 10 paces long. each pace 57 centimetres, that is, $7 1/2$ metres altogether. Something can be done to kill time and take exercise.

"Fellow criminals, our blood will grow putrid with this eternal sitting and lolling about. Of course, in jail we have to sit, but we will revolt, we will walk. Always in threes. If we walk for an hour