Chapter I.

It was midnight. Oppressive silence reigned in the prison. Occasionally one caught the sound of the heavy, even tread of the watchman. The little round holes in the tower of cells looked very black against the space about them. They looked like great eyes of the dead.

In the room of the prison superintendent there was a light. There two men sat opposite each other at a table upon which a piece of paper was outspread. They were the superintendent and his helper. They pointed with pencils to names of prisoners who in the morning would be brought out to be sentenced.

_Kli-r-r! Kli-rr-rr--_

“There it is again!” said the superintendent, throwing down his pencil.

“What’s the trouble?” inquired his companion.

“A new prisoner. With those confounded chains he disturbs me day and night.”

“Why does he make such a noise?”

“Why? How should I know? All the time that dog of a giaour walks about and gives me no rest. The devil take a business like mine! In all the years I have been here I have never got used to it--that accursed sound.”

_Kli-r-r! Kli-rr-rr--_

This time the noise was louder.

“I can’t stand that!” roared the superintendent. “I can’t stand that sound any longer. Last night I never closed an eye because of it.”

The helper began to laugh.

“Why do you laugh?”

“Why do I laugh? A boiled hen would laugh if you should say to it that the wolf is afraid of the sheep. What’s the use of your anger and discomfort? Silence him.”

“Silence him! Easy enough to say.”

“Tell him to go to sleep.”

“But what if he doesn’t sleep?”

“Make him sleep! There’s a way, isn’t there?” pointing to the rows of knouts along the wall. The light of cruel impulses shone in his little eyes.

_Kli-r-r! Kli-rr-rr--_ Again the shuddering rattle of rusty iron. The superintendent began to meditate. He bit his lips angrily and left the room. He turned toward the cell from which the sound came, opened the circular window and roared.

“You dog of a giaour, stop rattling those chains! _Keep still!_”

“I’m not doing anything,” came a voice from within.

“Why do you make such a noise all the time?”

“Why? The chains--they knock against each other.”

“Then why do you move?”

“What shall I do?”

“Sleep! Sleep! If you don’t, I’ll--” The superintendent did not finish the sentence.

“Sleep--that’s easy to say,” thought the prisoner. “How can the defender of man’s freedom sleep--if he is buried alive and has no hope?”

The mind of the _haiduk_ was a volcano; the cell was narrow, the chains heavy. The rattle of chains was the hideous song of autocracy, which since the beginning of time has echoed from prison walls.

The superintendent went away. The prisoner stood still for a moment, pondered the words, then began to move about again. He tried to walk softly along the wall, carefully, little step by little step. And the chains rang and rang disturbing the night.

“How long has the good-for-nothing been here?” inquired the helper.

“Three days ago they caught him in Toprag-Gale. He must be a bad lot who can not sleep. No one knows who he is nor whence he came.”

“Will he ascend--it?”

“What? You mean the gallows? Of course--if they sentence him!”

They were silent. It was not a suitable subject for conversation. Therefore they thought about it a good deal and said nothing. The silence was broken by a sudden crash of the chains.

“Just wait till daylight, you dog of a giaour!” murmured the superintendent. “Wait!”

The helper got up, said good night and went out.

Daylight came and the hour when the prisoners are given their breakfast.

“Now you’ll keep still forever, Giaour,” murmured the superintendent, who, with a dish full of food approached the cell of his noisy prisoner. He opened the door and placed the food upon the floor. The prisoner was sleeping. He went out stealthily. He closed the door but did not go away. Something held him to the spot. He put his eye to the keyhole and looked in. The prisoner was handsome. He had an air of nobility. His broad brow was unclouded as if noble thoughts moved behind it. The face indicated strength of character. There was something about the sleeping figure that affected the superintendent peculiarly. Fear awoke in his heart. He tried to suppress this feeling which was new to him. Why did he stand there and watch him? Why did he not go away? He did not know and he did not like to think about it. He tried to reason with himself.

He saw the prisoner get up and approach the food. He followed every movement. His knees began to tremble. He leaned heavily against the door. He wanted to turn away but he could not. His throat began to feel dry. Why should he destroy that noble looking figure with the broad brow and inspired eyes? He opened the door and called:

“_Wait! Wait!_”

The prisoner looked up at him in surprise.

“Wait! I can’t do it. Rattle your chains all you want to.”

He picked up the plate, ran from the room and closed the door. The prisoner understood. A smile passed across his lips like the last, faint glimmer of sunset. He rejoiced. Under the low roof of prison, behind locked doors, he had conquered.