His voice was becoming unsteady and husky; but then he gathered himself together once more, shook his head in a devil-may-care gesture and broke out in a robber's lay:
Two poles, a beam and a dangling rope—
This the guerdon a robber may hope …
He did not, however, get further with his song but turned back to the middle of the cage, going from one group to another and repeating the same words:
"This night I shall have the answer and I know that I'll have to swing for it."
As he said this, he looked questioningly and with passionate longing into the eyes of his prison friends, expectantly waiting for their protests and for some word of hope and consolation. Then he returned once more to Mironoff and repeated the query to him:
"They will hang me to-night. Don't you think so?"
Mironoff looked him straight in the eyes, thought for a moment and whispered:
"Listen, Peter. During the whole night we can talk together over the telegraph. It will be easier for you. What do you say?"
Shilo felt a cold shiver run over him and gave no answer, turning away instead. A martyr's smile momentarily disguised the true expression of his mouth but disappeared at once.
"Peter, Peter!" called old Ruzia, the Jew, from the second cage.
"What do you want?" asked the condemned man, approaching him.
Ruzia looked around carefully and then whispered to him:
