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By Root 3733 0

Strangely enough, what was in store for him made him nearlyglad. He felt his stale melancholia leave him, his head become clearer,his nerves tauten. He washed face, arms and chest in cold water over the wash-basin, rinsed his mouth and dried himself with his handkerchief. He whistled a few bars and smiled--he was always hopelessly out of tune, and only a few days ago somebody had said to him: "If No. 1 were musical, he would long ago have found a pretext to have you shot." "He will anyhow," he had answered, without seriously believing it. He lit his last cigarette and with a clear head began to work out the line to take when he would be brought up for cross-examination. He was filled by the same quiet and serene self-confidence as he had felt as a student before a particularly difficult examination. He called to memory every particular he knew about the subject "steambath." He imagined the situation in detail and tried to analyse the physical sensations to be expected, in order to rid them of their uncanniness. The important thing was not to let oneself be caught unprepared. He now knew for certain that they would not succeed in doing so, any more than had the others over there; he knew he would not say anything he did not want to say. He only wished they would start soon. His dream came to his mind: Richard and the old taxi-driver pursuing him, because they felt themselves cheated and betrayed by him. I will pay my fare, he thought with an awkward smile. His last cigarette was nearly at an end; it was burning his finger-tips; he let it drop. He was about to stamp it out, but thought better of it; he bent down, picked it up and stubbed out the glowing stump slowly on the back of his hand, between the blue snaky veins. He drew out this procedure for exactly half a minute, checking it by the second hand of his watch. He was pleased with himself: his hand had not twitched once during the thirty seconds. Then he continued his walk. The eye which had been observing him for several minutes through the spy-hole withdrew.

11

The lunch procession went past in the corridor; Rubashov's cell was again left out. He wanted to spare himself the humiliation of looking through the spy-hole, so he did not discover what there was for lunch; but the smell of it filled his cell, and it smelled good. He felt a strong desire for a cigarette. He would have to procure himself cigarettes somehow, in order to be able to concentrate; they were more important than food. He waited for half an hour after the doling out of food,then he began to hammer on the door. It took another quarter of an hour before the old warder shuffled up. "What do you want?" he asked, in his usual surly tone. "Cigarettes to be fetched for me from the canteen," said Rubashov. "Have you got prison vouchers?" "My money was taken from me on my arrival," said Rubashov. "Then you must wait until it has been changed for vouchers." "How long will that take in this model establishment of yours?" asked Rubashov. "You can write a letter of complaint," said the old man. "You know quite well that I have neither paper nor pencil," said Rubashov. "To buy writing materials you have to have vouchers," said the warder. Rubashov could feel his temper rising, the familiar pressure in the chest and the choking feeling in the throat; but he controlled it. The old man saw Rubashov's pupils glitter sharply through his pince-nez; it reminded him of the colour prints of Rubashov in uniform, which in the olddays one used to see everywhere; he smiled with senile spite and stepped back a pace. "You little heap of dung," said Rubashov slowly, turned his back on him and went back to his window. "I will report that you used insulting language," said the voice of the old man at his back; then the door slammed. Rubashov rubbed his pince-nez on his sleeve and waited until he breathed more calmly. He had to have cigarettes, else he would not be able to hold out. He made himself wait ten minutes. Then he tapped through to No. 402: HAVE YOU ANY TOBACCO? He had to wait a bit for the answer. Then it came, clearly