of the Prison came along and asked us if we would care to go into town for church the following Sunday, inasmuch as Shutkoff and Grushko had begged for this privilege and as he could, under authority received from the Prosecutor, allow others of us to go out under guard with them to the service. Two of my companions profited by this opportunity to get away from the prison for a while and joined the Sunday morning party that marched off to church.
It was not until two o'clock, when the Commandant had already begun to feel some anxiety about them, that they finally returned and then with all of them save the political prisoners and Grushko—that is, Shutkoff, two other prisoners and the soldiers—drunk. My companions explained the state of the others by saying that, when they were all leaving the church, they were surrounded by a crowd of men and women, who frequently murmured, "The poor fellows!" and finally went off and brought them back rolls, cakes, sausages and eggs, and then plied them with vodka, which the soldiers of the guard could not refuse. Of all of them only Grushko, a venerable-looking old man with a long white beard, resisted the pressure of hospitality and did not drink anything.
After their return it seemed as though Shutkoff and his friends had imbibed so much of the powerful alcohol that the vapours overcame all the men living in the same room with him and even some of those on another floor. When, in the course of this poisoning process, several serious rows and even fights took place, the authorities ordered a search throughout all the building, in the belief that someone had thrown a keg of vodka over the wall, which the prisoners had managed to pick up without the
