A RAY OF HOPE—AN UNHEARD-OF RéGIME—THE HUNGER-STRIKE—OUR CLUB—A SECRET ALLY

My removal to Odessa went off without any noteworthy incident. The change of scene, the railway journey, the sight of people, their doings, their speech, all had a reviving effect on me; but the company of three gendarmes did not allow me to forget for an instant that I was a prisoner on my way to judgment. The idea of escape, however, never left me, and once at least circumstances seemed favourable. It was night; we were already nearing Odessa. I had been dozing, and when I awoke I saw that all three gendarmes were fast asleep. My heart began to thump wildly, and my plan was made in an instant: to get my scissors out of their hiding-place, cut off my beard, stride over the sleeping gendarmes, step out on to the footboard of the train, and jump off. But as this flashed through my mind, one gendarme opened his eyes, waked the others by shaking them violently, and scolded them with a most self-righteous air for not keeping guard. I feigned sleep, and the scene was over.

In Odessa a prison van with barred windows awaited me. I was taken at first to a prison for political offenders, under the rule of the gendarmerie. While my belongings were being searched, the scissors suddenly fell on the floor, to the no small astonishment of the warder, a former gendarme.

“Nice order they keep in Petersburg! Prisoners are allowed to have scissors there!” he exclaimed. He 74imagined I had brought them openly in my luggage, and of course I left him in his pride at being cleverer than his colleagues in the capital.

In this prison conditions were very much like those in the Fortress of Peter and Paul: rather large, dark cells, tolerably good food, the same strict, formal bearing of the gendarmes, and the same all-pervading silence. In order at once to draw attention to the stipulations of the extradition treaty, I expressed my astonishment at being again put into a prison for “politicals.” Whether on account of this protest or because of an order from Petersburg I do not know, but after a few days I was removed to the prison for ordinary criminals.

It was evening, an evening that I shall never forget. They put me into a cell, and when the door closed behind me I could at first see nothing, the cell was so dark, and only the feeble rays of a lamp shone through a little window in the door. When my eyes had begun to accustom themselves to the dimness I set to work to take stock of my quarters. The cell was circular, and contained no bed, chair, nor table; only the customary wooden tub, a water-bucket, also of wood, and some straw on the floor—nothing else. I was much surprised, and thought there must have been some mistake. I went to the door, and saw through the peephole that two armed soldiers were on guard, while on a bench close by sat a gendarme and a policeman. I had been in many prisons, but this state of things was new to me.

“Look here! What is all this? Where are the bedstead and mattress?” I asked, sticking my head through the little window.

“Don’t know,” said the gendarme briefly.

“Then call the governor!”

He did not stir, but after a while the deputy-governor appeared.

“Will you tell me what this means?” I said, indicating the state of the cell.

75“I know nothing about it,” replied he. “We have simply followed instructions. You must apply to the Deputy Public Prosecutor, who will be here to-morrow.”

I felt horribly cast down. “What shall I do if they refuse to improve things?” I thought, sitting down in the straw with my head in my hands. Soon fatigue overpowered me, and I lay down; but hardly had I gone to sleep when I sprang up broad awake—mice were scratching and burrowing in the straw! I paced up and down the tiny cell, feeling how stifling the atmosphere was. The tub stank vilely; the space outside where the four watchers were was small, and only used-up air penetrated thence into the cell. I wished I could effect some ventilation, but the window was high up and could not be opened. I awaited the day with impatience, hoping I should at least be able to breathe some fresh air. Wearily the hours dragged along; sometimes I had to lie down for a moment’s rest, but only to spring up again because of the mice. At last day dawned.

“Take me to the air!” I cried to the gendarme, who seemed here to act as warder.

“I have no orders to do so,” was his reply.

Towards midday the Deputy Public Prosecutor arrived. I explained to him the horrible conditions to which I had been subjected, and demanded redress.

He listened to me, but assured me he could do nothing whatever.

“But tell me what hinders you from giving me a bedstead?”

“You could climb up to the window and try to escape.”

“Excuse me,” said I, “do consider what you say. Four men are watching me; even if I stood on the bed I could not reach the window without their seeing me. This is the fifth floor, and a sentry goes backwards and forwards below the window; if I could pass him I should next have to climb over a wall as high as a house, on the further side of which another sentry is posted! Surely 76you must see,” I urged, “that under these circumstances any attempt at flight is out of the question.”

“Who can tell? You have often got away before.”

“Only twice,” I corrected.

“Well, that’s quite enough,” said he. “I can’t do anything for you.” And he went away.

I had already made up my mind what to do now. On no account would I put up with this treatment, but would maintain a passive resistance.

The gendarme brought my food in a wooden vessel and placed it on the floor.

“Take it away! I shall not eat anything,” I said.

He took it up again and withdrew in silence.

This was repeated every day at meal-times. The hours dragged on. I could get no fresh air, could not read, as they would give me no books, could not even sleep for the mice. I did not feel any great craving for food, but drank water continually. In mind I suffered frightfully, not that I felt any anger against these people, but I was irritated beyond measure at the utter senselessness of such treatment.

“You will have time enough,” I apostrophised the staff, “to poison life for me after I am once sentenced; but for the present I am only on trial.”

For three days I went without food, and nobody seemed to trouble themselves about it, though, of course, the attendants knew what was going on. On the afternoon of the fourth day I was taken to the office. Unwashed (I had purposely abstained from washing ever since my arrival), my clothes covered with dust and bits of straw, I appeared before the Public Prosecutor of Odessa and the examining magistrate. They informed me they were there for the preliminary inquiry into my case, and would take my evidence. I told them I was in no condition to answer questions, and set forth my grievances, saying that I intended to starve myself as a protest.

77“Oh, you refuse to take your food? Well, then, we shall have to feed you by artificial means.”[33]

As I knew what he meant, I replied promptly, “Try it, then! But I warn you that if you do, I know of a way to bring on sickness and diarrh?a, and it will simply hasten my end.” Of course, I did not know anything of the kind, but thought this piece of bluff might ward off the fulfilment of the Prosecutor’s threat.

He looked sharply at me, and threw a meaning glance at the magistrate, as if to say, “The devil only knows what this fellow mayn’t be up to! He’s an old hand, and knows all the tricks of the trade.”

For a moment they were both silent. I saw that my words had taken effect, and began to dilate on their folly in treating me as they were doing.

“You must allow,” I said, “that all this is scarcely reasonable. The Government treats with Germany for my extradition, an important official travels to Baden on that account, you make no end of a fuss before the eyes of all Europe; and when, after setting all this machinery of the State to work, you have at last got hold of me, you can’t bring the accused to justice, because you have driven him to commit suicide! And all on account of such mere trifles to you as a bed and a few other necessaries! You must see how out of proportion the whole thing is.”

“Well, I’ll go and see for myself how they have provided for you,” said the Public Prosecutor, and went off.

When he returned he seemed in some excitement: “Well, it’s perfectly true,” he exclaimed, “they have used you shamefull............