The lash whistled like a singing wind. We tried to count the blows, but we lost count. We knew that the blows were falling upon our [-back.-] {+back+} Only we felt nothing upon our back any longer. A flaming grill kept dancing before our eyes, and we thought of nothing save that grill, a grill, a grill of red squares, and then we knew that we were looking at the squares of the iron grill in the door, and there were also the squares of stone on the walls, and the squares which the lash was cutting upon our back, crossing and re-crossing itself in our flesh. Then we saw a fist before us. It knocked our chin up, and we saw the red froth of our mouth on the withered fingers, and the Judge asked: "Where have you been?" But we jerked our head away, hid our face upon our tied hands, and bit our lips. The lash whistled again. We wondered who was sprinkling burning coal dust upon the floor, for we saw drops of red twinkling on the stones around us. Then we knew nothing, save two voices snarling steadily, one after the other, even though we knew they were speaking many minutes apart: "Where have you been where have you been where have you been where have you been? . . ." And our lips moved, but the sound trickled back into our throat, and the sound was only: "The light . . . The light . . . The light. . . ." Then we knew nothing. We opened our eyes, lying on our stomach on the brick floor of a cell. We looked upon two hands [-lying-] {+flying+} far before us on the bricks, and we moved them, and we knew that they were our hands. But we could not move our body. Then we smiled, for we thought of the light and that we had not betrayed it. We lay in our cell for many days. The door opened twice each day, once for the men who brought us bread and water, and once for the Judges. Many Judges came to our cell, first the humblest and then the most honored Judges of the City. They stood before us in their white togas, and they asked: "Are you ready to speak?" But we shook our head, lying before them on the floor. And they departed. We counted each day and each night as it passed. Then, tonight, we knew that we must escape. For tomorrow the World Council of Scholars is to meet in our City. It was easy to escape from the Palace of Corrective Detention. The locks are old on the doors and there are no guards about. There is no reason to have guards, for men have never defied the Councils so far as to escape from whatever place they were ordered to be. Our body is healthy and strength returns to it speedily. We [-lunged against the door and it gave way. We-] stole through the dark passages, and through the dark streets, and down into our tunnel. We lit the candle and we saw that our place had not been found and nothing had been touched. And our glass box stood before us on the cold oven, as we had left it. What matter they now, the scars upon our back!