It lasted six hours, from early morning till two in the afternoon. The last to be brought out was Sirocínski himself. I had not seen him for a long time, and should hardly have recognized him, he had aged so. His clean-shaven face was all wrinkled and livid. His bare body was thin and yellow, the ribs protruded above his shrunken stomach. He went, as they all did, shuddering at each stroke and jerking back his head, yet he did not groan, but loudly repeated the prayer,

Miserere mei, Deus, secundam magnam misericordiam tuam .

“I heard it myself,” muttered Rosolówski quickly and hoarsely; and, shutting his mouth firmly, he sniffed.

Ludwíka, sitting at the window, sobbed, hiding her face in her handkerchief.

“Why do you describe it? Beasts⁠—beasts that they are!” shouted Migoúrski; and, throwing down his pipe, he sprang from his chair and strode rapidly into his dark bedroom.