The watchman came in, and ten minutes later two convicts carried the lifeless body out of the cell and down to the mortuary. The watchman followed them out and locked the outside door after him. The corridor was left empty.

“Lock up, lock up!” thought Mezhenétsky, who from his door had followed all that went on. “You will not prevent me from escaping from all these horrors!”

Mezhenétsky no longer felt the inward terror that had hitherto oppressed him; he was absorbed by only one thought: the fear of being prevented from carrying out his intention.