I be back t'rectly." He went out into the yard again,
pushing the heavy door after him till it stood only slightly ajar,
sauntered easily around till he caught sight of the captain of the yard,
and was presently standing before him in the same immovable way in which
he had stood before Richling in Tchoupitoulas street, on the day he had
borrowed the dollar. Those who idly drew around could not hear his
words, but the "captain's" answers were intentionally audible. He
shook his head in rejection of a proposal. "No, nobody but the prisoner
himself should scrub out the cell. No, the Italian should not do it for
him. The prisoner's refusal and resistance had settled that question.
No, the knocking down had not balanced accounts at all. There was more
scrubbing to be done. It was scrubbing day. Others might scrub the yard
and the galleries, but he should scrub out the tank. And there were
other things, and worse,--menial services of the lowest kind. He should
do them when the time came, and the Italian would have to help him too.
Never mind about the law or the terms of his sentence. Those counted for
nothing there." Such was the sense of the decrees; the words were such
as may be guessed or left unguessed. The scrubbing of the cell must
commence at once. The vagrant must make up his mind to suffer. "He had
served on jury!" said the man in the undershirt, with a final flourish
of his stick. "He's got to pay dear for it."

When Ristofalo returned to his cell, its inmate, after many upstartings
from terrible dreams, that seemed to guard the threshold of slumber, had
fallen asleep. The Italian touched him gently, but he roused with a wild
start and stare.

"Ristofalo," he said, and fell a-staring again.

"You had some sleep," said the Italian.

"It's worse than being awake," said Richling. He passed his hands across
his face. "Has my wife been here?"

"No. Haven't sent yet. Must watch good chance. Git captain yard in
good-humor first, or else do on sly." The cunning Italian saw that
anything looking like early extrication would bring new fury upon
Richling. He knew _all_ the values of time. "Come," he added, "must
scrub out cell now." He ignored the heat that kindled in Richling's
eyes, and added, smiling, "You don't do it, I got to do it."

With a little more of the like kindly guile, and some wise and simple
reasoning, the Italian prevailed. Together, without objection from the
captain of the yard, with many unavailing