This thing which she
had pictured as terrible and intricate was accomplished with extreme
simplicity and rapidity, and the simpleness of the happenings
stupefied her. Rybin was no longer to be seen--a tall man in a thin
overcoat was walking there--a girl was running along. Three wardens
jumped out from a corner of the prison; they ran side by side,
stretching out their right hands. One of the soldiers rushed in
front of them; the other ran around the horse, unsuccessfully trying
to vault on the refractory animal, which kept jumping about. The
whistles incessantly cut the air, their alarming, desperate shrieks
aroused a consciousness of danger in the woman. Trembling, she
walked along the fence of the cemetery, following the wardens; but
they and the soldiers ran around the other corner of the prison and
disappeared. They were followed at a run by the assistant overseer
of the prison, whom she knew; his coat was unbuttoned. From
somewhere policemen appeared, and people came running.
The wind whistled, leaped about as if rejoicing, and carried the
broken, confused shouts to the mother's ears.
"It stands here all the time."
"The ladder?"
"What's the matter with you then? The devil take you!"
"Arrest the soldiers!"
"Policeman!"
Whistles again.
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