Page:The Jail, Experiences in 1916.pdf/205

 at the cross-examination had laughed till they cried,—only the Galician had maintained a surprised composure, as if he did not understand how anybody could laugh at such obvious things. Of course, he did laugh,—and very heartily too,—but only in the cell when he told them all about it.

I had a look at the fellow: short, almost shrunken, wearing a golden pince-nez, and on his smart private uniform he had red stripes sewn on,—the badge of an officer's servant; he was conversing confidentially with Messrs. Fels, Goldenstein and Wilder, as if he had known them for at least ten years, saw them daily, and yesterday on the last occasion.

I told the engineer that I felt how all this was ceasing to interest me. I lacked sunshine, air, a broad horizon, liberty. And that after my last cross-examination by Frank, I had expected that something would happen, that either I should be discharged, aror [sic] they would sentence me, or would accuse me of something else. I said that this being deposited upon ice was highly repugnant to me.

He smiled knowingly. What did I expect,—this was only two months. When my affairs had been at a deadlock for a year or two, like his, then I might talk about being tired of everything, of an objectionable situation.

Yes, yes, there are days when life is covered by a heavy mist. And when a man thinks that it is impossible to go on living in such a way, that something must happen, a wonder, a miracle, a gigantic change.

And nothing happens, nothing whatever. But he goes on living. And the heavy mist becomes such an ordinary thing that if it were to disappear suddenly, the man would wonder how he could live without it.