inal prisoners and began looking over the men, as they were prosecuting a search for some papers which had been stolen from the prison office. Coming up to Wierzbicki, one of the keepers said to him:
"All right, you undress!"
"Please speak politely to me. I am not a beast but a man, and a man ought to be shown respect," the Pole answered and showed signs of emotion in his face.
"You will preach to me, you gallows bird? Undress at once."
"I will not undress," Wierzbicki replied in sharply cut, deliberate syllables. "I never was a thief and I shall not allow anyone to dishonour me a second time. Do you hear?"
"Undress and search him!" shouted the Vice-Commandant.
The keepers made at Wierzbicki, but he took post in the corner of the cage and defended himself as a boar attacked by hounds. In a very short time the keepers were so roughly handled that they had to draw off and call for help. As some others ran out from the office and soldiers appeared from their quarters with their carbines, Wierzbicki shouted:
"Comrades, enough of silence and humility! Our silence only strengthens their injustice; our humility is worse than ignominy. We will not allow these men to torture us, comrades!"
Quite unexpectedly these words fell like a spark in a case of powder. With a dull, menacing roar the convicts made for the fence of the cage and began to strip off the broad pickets, while others grabbed up stones and broken brick. In a moment the fight was on. With the battering blows from the heavy boards and the fusillade of flying missiles, the keepers were soon forced back out of the
