“Stop your your nonsense there! I didn’t ask you to speak.”
Watari was trying to make his way unnoticed towards the staircase. One of the police became aware of his movements and caught him.
“Where are you making for? Don’t you dare to budge!”
Senzomoto had been watching Watari for some days. He was astonished. What could be the matter with him? Watari was usually so quiet. Just now his face was whiter than chalk. Watari, in spite of his youth, had always worked in the front ranks. He had seemed like a man forged out of iron, and now?—Senzomoto felt puzzled and alarmed.
At length the prisoners, surrounded by the police, started to descend the stairs. With the exception of Watari, they were all lively and even nonchalant. Sessito—who always encouraged them with “Heads up! The great thing is not to lose courage”—was the most lively of all. He edged closer to Senzomoto, and whispered:
“We must be firm, otherwise”
“Yes, that’s so, or”
“What are you muttering about there?”
The policeman caught hold of Sessito and flung him away.
“The people’s flag” somebody in front was singing. The sound of a heavy blow followed.
“You’ve gone crazy, you swine!”
A worker gave one of the police a great push with his shoulder. There was a blow of a sabre, a loud smack, and then silence.
