ONE evening Count Oroboni and I were standing at our windows complaining
of the low diet to which we were subjected. Animated by the subject, we
talked a little too loud, and the sentinels began to upbraid us. The
superintendent, indeed, called in a loud voice to Schiller, as he
happened to be passing, inquiring in a threatening voice why he did not
keep a better watch, and teach us to be silent? Schiller came in a great
rage to complain of me, and ordered me never more to think of speaking
from the window. He wished me to promise that I would not.
“No!” replied I; “I shall do no such thing.”
“Oh, _der Teufel_; _der Teufel_!” {26} exclaimed the old man; “do you say
that to me? Have I not had a horrible strapping on your account?”
“I am sorry, dear Schiller, if you have suffered on my account. But I
cannot promise what I do not mean to perform.”
“And why not perform it?”
“Because I cannot; because this continual solitude is such a torment to
me. No! I will speak as long as I have breath, and invite my neighbour
to talk to me. If he refuse I will talk to my window-bars, I will talk
to the hills before me, I will talk to the birds as they fly about. I
will talk!”
“_Der Teufel_! you will! You had better promise!”
“No, no, no! never!” I exclaimed.
He threw down his huge bunch of keys, and ran about, crying, “_Der
Teufel_! _der Teufel_!” Then, all at once, he threw his long bony arms
about my neck: “By —, and you shall talk! Am I to cease to be a man
because of this vile mob of keys? You are a gentleman, and I like your
spirit! I know you will not promise. I would do the same in your
place.”
I picked up his keys and presented them to him. “These keys,” said I,
“are not so bad after all; they cannot turn an honest soldier, like you,
into a villainous _sgherro_.”
“Why, if I thought they could, I would hand them back to my superiors,
and say, ‘If you will give me no bread but the wages of a hangman, I will
go and beg alms from door to door.’”
He took out his handkerchief, dried his eyes, and then, raising them,
seemed to pray inwardly for some time. I, too, offered up my secret
prayers for this good old man. He saw it, and took my hand with a look
of grateful respect.
Upon leaving me he said, in a low voice, “When you speak with Count
Oroboni, speak as I do now. You will do me a double kindness: I shall
hear no more cruel threats of my lord superintendent, and by not allowing
any remarks of yours to be repeated in his ear, you will avoid giving
fresh irritation to _one_ who knows how to punish.”
I assured him that not a word should come from either of our lips which
could possibly give cause of offence. In fact, we required no further
instructions to be cautious. Two prisoners desirous of communication are
skilful enough to invent a language of their own, without the least
danger of its being interpreted by any listener.