rted and
lifeless; the passenger trains were not running any longer, and the
train which was silently waiting for these passengers on the way needed
no bright light, no commotion. Suddenly Werner began to feel weary.
It was not fear, nor anguish, but a feeling of enormous, painful,
tormenting weariness which makes one feel like going off somewhere,
lying down and closing one's eyes very tightly. Werner stretched himself
and yawned slowly. Yanson also stretched himself and quickly yawned
several times.

"I wish they'd be quicker about it," said Werner wearily. Yanson was
silent, shrinking together.

When the condemned moved along the deserted platform which was
surrounded by soldiers, to the dimly lighted cars, Werner found himself
near Sergey Golovin; Sergey, pointing with his hand somewhere
aside, began to say something, but only the word "lantern" was heard
distinctly, and the rest was drowned in slow and weary yawning.

"What did you say?" asked Werner, also yawning.

"The lantern. The lamp in the lantern is smoking," said Sergey. Werner
looked around. Indeed, the lamp in the lantern was smoking very much,
and the glass had already turned black on top.

"Yes, it is smoking."

Suddenly he thought: "What have I to do with the smoking of the lamp,
since---"

Sergey apparently thought the same, as he glanced quickly at Werner and
turned away. But both stopped yawning.

They all went to the cars themselves, only Yanson had to be led by the
arms. At first he stamped his feet and his boots seemed to stick to the
boards of the platform. Then he bent his knees and fell into the arms
of the gendarmes, his feet dangled like those of a very intoxicated man,
and the tips of the boots scraped against the wood. It took a long time
until he was silently pushed through the door.

Vasily Kashirin also moved himself, unconsciously imitating the
movements of his comrades--he did everything as they did. But on boarding
the platform of the car, he stumbled, and a gendarme took him by the
elbow to support him. Vasily shuddered and screamed shrilly, drawing
back his arm:

"Ai!"

"What is it, Vasya?" Werner rushed over to him. Vasily was silent,
trembling in every limb. The confused and even offended gendarme
explained:

"I wanted to keep him from falling, and he--"

"Come, Vasya, let me hold you," said Werner, about to take him by the
arm. But Vasily drew back his arm again and cried more loudly than
before:

"Ai!"

"