J. S. MACHAR
ed names, and finally had been run to earth. As it was ascertained that he had also evaded his military service, he would be brought before the military court.
It was Hedrich who conveyed this piece of news into the room. It was whispered about, the embezzler was stared at, Papa Declich who had probably formed a corroboration of his forebodings from Hedrich's narrative, snarled a contemptuous "Fallot", and the poor deaf Mlacker began to look at everybody with the gaze of a hounded animal.
Budi did not show himself in the room the whole day. In the evening he arrived in low spirits, complained of headache, did not eat, did not speak, went to bed early, and the next morning told me that this man must be cleared out of the room.
And actually, both of them, the corporal and Mr. Mlacker, were shifted. On to the first floor. The corporal was cheerful, Mr. Mlacker quite furious. He told Hedrich that he knew who had got him out of the room, and let that gentleman beware.
Budi came into supper in good spirits, but when Hedrich informed him of this, he turned pale and was silent.
"Have you been talking a bit freely to him?" I asked.
"Well yes, we did talk about one thing and another" he remarked rather crestfallen.
"The cell is clean again. Karl, give me another bottle of wine" ordered Mr. Fels. The cell is clean again,—yes, but for how long?
However, these episodes began to interest me. A man came in, displayed his soul as he would like us to see it, but we at once knew how to look at it so as to see what it was like in reality, and he departed. I followed this spectacle, and read my Molière at the same time—one play daily.
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