Page:Ossendowski - From President to Prison.djvu/317

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A ROBBER'S GUERDON
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The words of the old prisoner were mingled with the frantic knocks of Mironoff, repeatedly calling to his prison friend.

It was a terrible night, one that I shall always remember as a frightful nightmare. Perhaps those of you who have never experienced the nerve-wearing strains of prison life or have never been under sentence of death may feel that there is some exaggeration in the emotions I have tried to depict as harassing this night; but I felt them all a thousand times more keenly than any reader can vicariously do, especially those of Shilo, for I had gone through it all myself only some months before. Throughout the night I lay pressing my fevered head between my hands, feeling as though pity, despair and hate were gnawing at my heart and poisoning my soul.

I really do not know how long I spent in this state, but suddenly I jumped from my bed and peered out of my window, through which the first rays of the dawn were visible. I had no more than reached it, when, from out of the deep silence of the hours before the day, there suddenly came along the walls a new rush of hurried signals.

"It is I, Shilo. I am amnestied! Really amnestied! … When the guard was changing, I was taken to the chancery to be given the news of a telegram from the Governor, saying that my sentence had been changed to life imprisonment. I have only just returned to my cell. Amnestied. … Life!"

Among the prisoners a buzz like that in a hive commenced, full of emotion, joy and thankfulness.

During the regular daily inspection by the Commandant the prisoners asked for a service in the prison chapel. Although I am not of the Orthodox Russian Church, I