Page:The Way of the Cross, Doroshevich, tr. Graham, 1916.djvu/116

 100 Following the car went the people, crying out in melancholy, monotonous, hopeless tones:

—Your high nobility! Show official kindness.

And suddenly I remembered:

—Where I had heard these very voices.

That very tone.

Sakhalin. The convicts having come:

—For their portion.

Oh God, were not these people until yesterday peasants with horses!

A dreadful place:

—Is Muchin yard.

Where the fugitive ceases to be:

—A peasant.

At ordinary times I suppose this yard is simply a large inn.

On the town side of the River Oster, on the heights.

Down below, under the cliff, is an