He
thought that he was summoned to his execution. He crossed the great
courtyard of the prison supported by the soldiers; the snow creaked
under foot; the night was very dark, and the sharp fresh air almost
took away his breath, yet it was infinitely welcome to him after the
heavy atmosphere of his cell, and he inhaled it with keen pleasure,
thinking that each whiff was almost the last. He was led into a
large, faintly-lighted room, where officers of various grades were
smoking around a large table. It was only the committee of
investigation, for hitherto his examinations had not been strictly in
order.
This was but the first of a series of sittings which were prolonged
through nearly half a year. During this time his treatment improved;
his cell was kept clean; he had no cause to complain of his food; he
was allowed to walk for an hour daily in the corridor, which, though
cold and damp, in some degree satisfied his need of exercise. He was
always guarded by two sentinels, to whom he was forbidden to speak. He
learned in some way, however, that several of his co-accused were his
fellow-prisoners: they were confined in another part of the fortress,
and he but once caught a glimpse of one of them--so changed that he
hardly recognized him. His neighbors on the corridor were common
criminals.
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