Adventure stories; British -- Portugal -- Fiction; Lisbon (Portugal) -- Fiction; Love stories
“I should not identify any one else.” This was very close to a direct
lie; and as I had no intention of either telling what I knew or of
committing myself to a direct denial, until I was certain about the
nature of the whole proceedings, I added: “I have said that I am an
Englishman. I have given you my name and have told you I am a friend
of M. Volheno, amongst others. You do not believe what I say, and I
claim my right as a British subject to communicate with my country’s
representatives here in the capital. Let me send to them or yourselves
send to M. Volheno. I shall not answer any more questions.”
“Tell me at once where to find the rest of your companions,” he said
very sternly.
“I know no more than yourself. I have no other answer to give.” I spoke
very firmly and half expected that my experience of the former test
would be repeated and that the men would be satisfied.
But nothing of the kind followed. After a pause the light was suddenly
put out, a whispered command was given, and I was hurried out of the
room and then out of the house, dragged with no little violence into a
carriage and driven away.
This might still be part of a drastic test, of course; so I held my
tongue and let them take me where they would. As I left the house I
glanced about me in the hope of catching sight of Bryant; and was
considerably troubled when I could not see him.
But I was soon to learn that it was no mere test. The carriage pulled
up before a gloomy building and I was half led, half dragged inside,
where I was confronted by a number of men in police uniform. I was
searched and everything taken from me; my name was entered; and without
more ado I was led away to be thrust into an unmistakable prison cell
with other equally unmistakable prisoners.
The experiences of that night live as an ineffaceable memory--worse
than any nightmare horrors; worse than one’s worst imaginings of any
nether world.
The cell was a large one in which perhaps twenty or thirty could have
been confined without any undue crowding. There were more than that
number already there when I was thrust inside; and many others were
brought in afterwards, men and women indiscriminately, until we must
have numbered over sixty altogether.
Had all been approximately clean or approximately sober, the air
would still have been too foul to breathe and we should have been too
crowded to move without shouldering one another. By the exercise of
strict discipline and mutual arrangement and forbearance, it would have
been possible, by taking turns, for some to have slept while the rest
huddled together.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account