The mother wept quietly without speaking,
while he stroked her hair, and spoke in his musical voice:
"Don't cry, mother. Don't wring my heart. Upon my honest word,
they will let him out soon! They haven't a thing against him;
all the boys will keep quiet as cooked fish."
Putting his long arm around the mother's shoulders he led her into
the room, and nestling up against him with the quick gesture of a
squirrel, she wiped the tears from her face, while her heart
greedily drank in his tender words.
"Pavel sends you his love. He is as well and cheerful as can be.
It's very crowded in the prison. They have thrown in more than a
hundred of our people, both from here and from the city. Three and
four persons have been put into one cell. The prison officials are
rather a good set. They are exhausted with the quantity of work the
gendarmes have been giving them. The prison authorities are not
extremely rigorous, they don't order you about roughly. They simply
say: 'Be quiet as you can, gentlemen. Don't put us in an awkward
position!' So everything goes well. We talk with one another, we
give books to one another, and we share our food. It's a good
prison! Old and dirty, but so soft and so light.
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