“And it is true that you did not set it on fire?”

“It never entered my head to do it, sir.  It must be my enemy that did it himself.  They say he had only just insured it.  Then they said it was mother and I that did it, and that we had threatened him.  It is true I once did go for him, my heart couldn’t stand it any longer.”

“Can this be true?”

“God is my witness it is true.  Oh, sir, be so good—­” and Nekhludoff had some difficulty to prevent him from bowing down to the ground.  “You see I am perishing without any reason.”  His face quivered and he turned up the sleeve of his cloak and began to cry, wiping the tears with the sleeve of his dirty shirt.

“Are you ready?” asked the assistant.

“Yes.  Well, cheer up.  We will consult a good lawyer, and will do what we can,” said Nekhludoff, and went out.  Menshoff stood close to the door, so that the jailer knocked him in shutting it, and while the jailer was locking it he remained looking out through the little hole.

CHAPTER LIII.

VICTIMS OF GOVERNMENT.

Passing back along the broad corridor (it was dinner time, and the cell doors were open), among the men dressed in their light yellow cloaks, short, wide trousers, and prison shoes, who were looking eagerly at him, Nekhludoff felt a strange mixture of sympathy for them, and horror and perplexity at the conduct of those who put and kept them here, and, besides, he felt, he knew not why, ashamed of himself calmly examining it all.

In one of the corridors, some one ran, clattering with his shoes, in at the door of a cell.  Several men came out from here, and stood in Nekhludoff’s way, bowing to him.

“Please, your honour (we don’t know what to call you), get our affair settled somehow.”

“I am not an official.  I know nothing about it.”

“Well, anyhow, you come from outside; tell somebody—­one of the authorities, if need be,” said an indignant voice.  “Show some pity on us, as a human being.  Here we are suffering the second month for nothing.”

“What do you mean?  Why?” said Nekhludoff.

“Why?  We ourselves don’t know why, but are sitting here the second month.”

“Yes, it’s quite true, and it is owing to an accident,” said the inspector.  “These people were taken up because they had no passports, and ought to have been sent back to their native government; but the prison there is burnt, and the local authorities have written, asking us not to send them on.  So we have sent all the other passportless people to their different governments, but are keeping these.”

“What!  For no other reason than that?” Nekhludoff exclaimed, stopping at the door.

A crowd of about forty men, all dressed in prison clothes, surrounded him and the assistant, and several began talking at once.  The assistant stopped them.

“Let some one of you speak.”