Page:The Jail, Experiences in 1916.pdf/81

 should also have walked like that, if I had not found Dušek there.

Mr. Sponner appeared in the doorway. He was our second warder, a former sergeant—with voice, appearance and features of a boor, a Viennese from Hernals.

"Fall in" (the German word was "einrücken", again with quite a different colouring.)

The key grated behind us.

We sat on the bed.

"We shall make the acquaintance of the others when we have seen a little of them. I will tell you their histories when you return from your inspection and parade", said Dušek.

Hedrich got me ready. He shaved me, dressed my hair and gave me a cigar, a good lad. And he explained to me once more the business with the spoons. He wanted to have a souvenir of Belgrade, he took them, they were not worth a couple of crowns. His mother's house was searched, nothing was found, but his mother herself gave them up of her own accord. Well, he was happy. Mr. Dušek was such a nice gentleman, and all were pleasant and friendly to him.

Papa Declich was busying himself with something by his bed. Budi had clambered up on the pile of straw mattresses and was asleep. Two were absorbed in a game; they had cut out squares on the table and were playing wolves and sheep. They had cut up pegs, and shoved these discs as carefully as if thousands were at stake. Others were looking on. The time crawled as if it had gout in its legs.

Dušek and I were reviving memories of Prague, our friends, acquaintances and past events. We considered what might have been, and what probably would be. "It's no use, as long as the war lasts, they'll keep us here", sighed Dušek. At last there was the rattle of a key. Mr. Sponner was collecting us for the medical inspection.