and the court knew that the spies who had been watching the
house had seen him enter but a short time before the police force
arrived. As the two statements had been made independently it was
thought probable that in this respect Godfrey was speaking the truth.
Not so, however, his assertions that he was unacquainted with any of the
other conspirators.

He was again taken back to his cell, and for the next week saw no one
but the warder who brought his bread and water, and who did not reply by
a single word to any questions that he asked him. Godfrey did his best
to keep up his spirits. He had learnt by heart at Shrewsbury the first
two books of the Iliad, and these he daily repeated aloud, set himself
equations to do, and solved them in his head, repeated the dates in
Greek history, and went through everything he could remember as having
learned.

He occasionally heard footsteps above him, and wondered whether that
also was a cell, and what sort of man the prisoner was. Once or twice at
night, when all was quiet, he heard loud cries, and wondered whether
they were the result of delirium or torture. His gruff jailer was
somewhat won by his cheerfulness. Every day Godfrey wished him good
morning as he visited the cell, inquired what the weather was like
outside, expressed an earnest hope that silence didn't disagree with
him, and generally joked and laughed as if he rather enjoyed himself
than otherwise. At the end of the week an official entered the cell.

"I have come to inform you, prisoner, that the sentence of death that
had been passed upon you has, by the clemency of the Czar, been commuted
to banishment for life to Siberia."

"Very well, sir," Godfrey said. "I know, of course, that I am perfectly
innocent of the crime of which I am charged; but as the Czar no doubt
supposes that I am guilty of taking part in a plot against his life, I
acknowledge and thank him for his clemency. I have no peculiar desire to
visit Siberia, but at least it will be a change for the better from this
place. I trust that it shall not be long before I start."

As the official was unable to make out whether Godfrey spoke in mockery
or not, he made no reply.

"These Nihilists are men of iron," he said afterwards. "They walk to
the scaffold with smiling faces; they exist in dungeons that would kill
a dog in twenty-four hours, and nothing can tempt them to divulge their
secrets; even starvation does not affect them. They are dangerous