Darkness at Noon - Arthur Koestler [50]
morning of the eleventh day he was taken for the first time into the yard for exercise. The old jailor fetched him shortly after breakfast, accompanied by the same guard as had escorted the expedition to the barber. The warder informed Rubashov that from to-day onwards he was allowed daily twenty minutes' exercise in the courtyard. Rubashov was attached to the "first round", which started after breakfast. Then the warder reeled off the regulations: conversation during the walk with one's neighbour, or any other prisoner, was prohibited; so was making signs to each other, exchanging written messages or stepping out of the line; any disregard of the regulations would be punished by immediate withdrawal of the privilege of exercise; serious infractions of discipline with up to four weeks' imprisonment in a darkened cell. Then the warder slammed Rubashov's cell from outside, and the three of them started on their way. After a few steps the warder stopped and opened the door of No. 406. Rubashov, who had remained next to the uniformed guard at some distance from the door, saw inside the cell the legs of Rip Van Winkle, who was lying on his bunk. He wore black, buttoned boots and check trousers, frayed at the bottom, but still giving a painfully well-brushed effect. The warder once more reeled off his regulations; the checked trouser legs slid rather falteringly off the bunk and a little old man appeared in the doorway, blinking. His face was covered with grey stubble; with his impressive trousers he wore a black waistcoat with a metal watch-chain and a black cloth coat. He stood in the doorway, examining Rubashov with earnest curiosity; then he gave him a short, friendly nod, and the four of them moved on. Rubashov had expected to find a person who was mentally.deranged ; now he changed his opinion. In spite of a nervous twitching of his eyebrow, caused probably by years of confinement in a darkened cell, Rip Van Winkle's eyes were clear and of a childlike friendliness. He walked rather laboriously, but with short, decided steps, and threw Rubashov a friendly look from time to time. Going down the stairs, the little old man stumbled suddenly and would have fallen, had not the guard caught his arm in time. Rip Van Winkle murmured a few words, in too low a voice for Rubashov to hear, but which evidently expressed his polite thanks; the guard grinned stupidly. Then, through an open gate, they entered the yard, where the other prisoners were already arranged in pairs. From the middle of the yard, where the guards stood, two short whistles sounded and the round started. The sky was clear, of a curiously paleblue, the air was filled with the crystalline tang of the snow. Rubashov had forgotten to bring his blanket and shivered. Rip Van Winkle had hung round his shoulders a grey, worn-out cover, which the warder had handed him on entering the yard. He walked in silence beside Rubashov, with small firm steps, blinking up occasionally at the pale blue over their heads; the grey blanket fell to his knees, enclosing him like a bell. Rubashov worked out which of the windows belonged to his cell; it was dark and dirty, like all the others; one could see nothing behind it. He kept his eyes for a time on No. 402's window, but there too one could only see the blind, barred window-pane. No. 402 was not allowed out for exercise; neither was he taken to the barber's or to be examined; Rubashov had never heard him being let out of his cell. They walked in silence in slow circles round the yard. Between the grey stubble, Rip Van Winkle's lips moved hardly perceptibly; he was murmuring something to himself which Rubashov did not understand at first; then he noticed that the old man was humming the tune of "Arise, ye wretched of the earth". Mad he was not, but in the seven thousand days and nights of imprisonment he had apparently become somewhat peculiar. Rubashov observed him sideways and tried to imagine what it meant to be cut off from the world for two decades. Twenty years ago motor-cars had been rare and oddly shaped; there was no wireless,