the meantime white as chalk, weeping with pain and
fright, would knock at the door with the butt-end of the gun and cry
helplessly:

"I'll fire! I'll kill you as sure as I live! Do you hear?"

But he dared not shoot. If there was no actual rebellion they never
fired at those who had been condemned to death. And Tsiganok would gnash
his teeth, would curse and spit. His brain thus racked on a monstrously
sharp blade between life and death was falling to pieces like a lump of
dry clay.

When they entered the cell at midnight to lead Tsiganok to the execution
he began to bustle about and seemed to have recovered his spirits.
Again he had that sweet taste in his mouth, and his saliva collected
abundantly, but his cheeks turned rosy and in his eyes began to glisten
his former somewhat savage slyness. Dressing himself he asked the
official:

"Who is going to do the hanging? Anew man? I suppose he hasn't learned
his job yet."

"You needn't worry about it," answered the official dryly.

"I can't help worrying, your Honor. I am going to be hanged, not you. At
least don't be stingy with the government's soap on the noose."

"All right, all right! Keep quiet!"

"This man here has eaten all your soap," said Tsiganok, pointing to the
warden. "See how his face shines."

"Silence!"

"Don't be stingy!"

And Tsiganok burst out laughing. But he began to feel that it was
getting ever sweeter in his mouth, and suddenly his legs began to
feel strangely numb. Still, on coming out into the yard, he managed to
exclaim:

"The carriage of the Count of Bengal!"

CHAPTER V KISS-AND SAY NOTHING

The verdict concerning the five terrorists was pronounced finally
and confirmed upon the same day. The condemned were not told when the
execution would take place, but they knew from the usual procedure that
they would be hanged the same night, or, at the very latest, upon the
following night. And when it was proposed to them that they meet their
relatives upon the following Thursday they understood that the execution
would take place on Friday at dawn.

Tanya Kovalchuk had no near relatives, and those whom she had were
somewhere in the wilderness in Little Russia, and it was not likely
that they even knew of the trial or of the coming execution. Musya and
Werner, as unidentified people, were not supposed to have relatives,
and only two, Sergey Golovin and Vasily Kashirin, were to meet their
parents. Both of them looked upon that