NOWAKOWSKI'S BOMB
THESE weeks spent in such close contact with the other residents of the prison gave me the opportunity for many interesting observations and fascinating experiences. The first came with Nowakowski. The calm, serious old man underwent a great change of disposition. Though he grew angry and nervous, his relations with me were always friendly and good; for, understanding instinctively that an enforced companionship in one room is a difficult and disagreeable trial, I always endeavoured to make my presence as unobtrusive and as little obnoxious as possible. I spoke only when he himself started the conversation, made no disorder or noise in the room and always moved as little and as quietly as possible; and, as Nowakowski bore himself in the same way, we got on very well together. We understood each other almost telepathically, so that we hardly needed to use words. On the other hand, everything outside of our cell angered the old man. The loud steps of the guards in the corridor so upset his equilibrium that he would run to the door and, hammering it with his fists, cry out:
"You put us into this 'stone bag' and even here leave us no peace, you executioners!"
He scolded the prisoners and soldiers, when they ran about in the yard; he continually complained about the
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