Page:The Jail, Experiences in 1916.pdf/114

 "Yes, yesterday evening. If I'd had him there, he'd have gone flying through the room. I'd have made him jump."

"Kranz, how many did you put away?"

"Forty. There's forty empty bottles. But do they call that wine? I'd just like to get hold of that blackguard of a caterer. I'd tell him the mischief he does when he mixes such stuff."

"Kranz, has anything been heard about an amnesty?"

"They say so. It's supposed to be because of these victories in Russia. But that will be an amnesty for us, for the slight offenders, nothing for you, for serious criminals. Nothing, gentlemen."

He looked at us, indicated us and the patriots with a comprehensive gesture, and gave a devilish laugh.

"I must have a cucumber,—my head's all to pieces" he said more to himself, and went to the door.

"Open, you blockhead", and he banged upon it with his fists. "Sponner, you scoundrel", and he kicked until the door shook and rattled.

Sponner opened: "Come, come, come—"

"Idiot", answered Mr. Kranz, and walked out solemnly.

 

I was doing the third kilometre with Messrs Fels and Goldstein.

A few people were looking at us, a few were watching the game of wolves and sheep at the other table, the sergeant had got Mr. Karl to whistle a tune from the Csardasfürstin and was endeavouring to whistle it after him. Papa Declich was standing on the pile of mattresses, cleaning his cap and taking a sly peep into the big yard where the imprisoned officers were exercising. Now and then Warder Sponner burst into the room, yelled out somebody's name,