“There’s simplicity for you!” exclaimed the leader, in tones of contempt. Then giving the order, “Shoulder arms! March!” the sentries, with measured tread, disappeared around the corner, and the sound of their footsteps was soon lost in the distance. The sentinel shouldered his musket, and began to pace along the wall. Inside the prison, at the first stroke of the bell, all was in motion. It was long since the sad and gloomy prison night had witnessed so much life. It seemed as if the church bells had really brought tidings of liberty; for the grimy doors of the cells opened in turn, and their occupants, clad in long gray garments, the fatal patches on their backs, filed in rows along the corridors, on their way to the brilliantly lighted prison church. They came from all directions--from right and left, descending and ascending the stairway--and amid the echoing footsteps rang the sound of arms and the clanking of chains. On entering the church, this gray mass of humanity poured into the space allotted to them, behind the railing, and stood there in silence. The windows of the church were protected by strong iron bars. The prison was empty, except in the four towers, where, in small, strongly bolted cells, four men, in solitary confinement, were restlessly pacing to and fro, stopping once in a while to listen at the keyhole to the snatches of church singing that reached their ears. And, beside these, in one of the ordinary cells, in a bunk, lay a sick man. The overseer, to whom this sudden illness had been reported, went into his cell as they were escorting the prisoners to church, and, leaning over him, looked into his eyes, that were gazing fixedly before him, and in which shone a peculiar light. “Ivanof! Ivanof!” he called out to the invalid. The convict never turned his head, but continued muttering something unintelligible, moving his parched lips with difficulty. “Carry him to the hospital to-morrow!” said the overseer, as he left the cell, appointing a sentry to guard the door. The latter, after a close examination of the delirious patient, shook his head, saying as he did so: “A vagrant! Poor fellow! you are not likely to tramp any more!” The overseer continued his way along the corridor, and entered the church, taking up his post by the door, where, with frequent genuflections, he listened devoutly to the service. Meanwhile the mutterings of the unconscious man filled the empty cell.