CHAPTER IX

WEDNESDAY EVENING

In my cell, later Wednesday evening, October 2.

Upon arriving back here this afternoon, and before sitting down to my
usual supper of bread and water, I shave leisurely. In spite of the jar of
hot water which George has kindly brought to the cell before I am locked
in for the night, my toilet arrangements leave much to be desired. It is
true I have shaved at times under greater disadvantages. As, for instance,
in camp, when I have had to use the inside of my watch-cover for a mirror.
Here in prison I have at least a real mirror, such as it is.

My toilet completed, I make as much of a meal as I can of bread and water.
Then I take up my journal to chronicle the events of the day.

The twenty minutes of musical pandemonium come and go, the violinist as
usual being the first to begin. Perhaps he may be the fortunate possessor
of a watch. Then, also as usual, a silence follows, rendered all the more
profound by reason of the previous discord. The cell-house has settled
down for the night. Only a few muffled sounds make the stillness more
distinctly felt. Then----

Suddenly the unearthly quiet is shattered by a terrifying uproar.

It is too far away to hear at first anything with distinctness; it is all
a confused and hideous mass of shouting--a shouting first of a few, then
of more, then of many voices. I have never heard anything more
dreadful--in the full meaning of the word--full of dread. My heart is
thumping like a trip hammer, and the cold shivers run up and down my back.

I jump to the door of the cell, pressing my ear close against the cold
iron bars. Then I can distinguish a few words sounding against the
background of the confused outcry. "Stop that!" "Leave him alone!" "Damn
you, stop that!" Then some dull thuds; I even fancy that I hear something
like a groan, along with the continued confused and violent shouting.

What can it be?

While I am perfectly aware that I am not in the least likely to be harmed,
I am shivering with something close akin to a chill of actual terror. If
anyone near at hand were to give vent to a sudden yell, I feel as if I
might easily lose my self-control and shout and bang my door with the rest
of them.

The cries continue, accompanied with other noises that I cannot make out.
Then my attention is attracted by whispering down at one of the lower
windows in the outer wall of the corridor opposite my cell. It is so dark
outside that I can