continuous and prolonged shaking of the sombre vehicle gave him vertigo and a little nausea.
Werner answered, and pressed the Esthonian's hand more tightly than before. He would have liked to say specially friendly and kind words to this little sleeping man, whom already he loved more than anyone in the world.
"Dear friend! I think that you are in an uncomfortable position! Draw nearer to me!"
At first Yanson said nothing, but after a moment he replied:
"Thank you! I am comfortable! And you, they are going to hang you too?"
"Yes!" replied Werner, with an unlooked-for gaiety, almost laughing. He made a free-and-easy gesture, as if they were speaking of some futile and stupid prank that a band of affectionate practical jokers were trying to play upon them.
"You have a wife?" asked Yanson.
"No! A wife! I! No, I am alone!"
"So am I! I am alone."
Werner, too, was beginning to feel the vertigo. At times it seemed to him that he was on his way to some festivity. A queer thing; almost all those who were going to the execution had the same feeling; although a prey to fear and anguish, they rejoiced vaguely in the extraordinary thing that was about to happen. Reality became intoxicated on madness, and death, coupling with life, gave birth to phantoms.
