"No, not so bad as that. I believe a robber was impaled eighteen years ago; at all events, there is some tradition to that effect."
Shortly afterwards my visitors left the room.
CHAPTER XXVI.
The prison in Sivas—Christian prisoners—The gaoler—Kurds and Circassians—A few Armenians—False statement made to me by Christians—The old murderer—The firman for his execution—Kept in suspense—Our Governor dislikes shedding blood—Issek Pacha—He may die—His residence—The law in Turkey about murder—Mercenary dealings—Lax justice.
The following day I walked across the square to the prison. I had not said anything to the authorities in Sivas about my intended visit to this establishment. I wished to see it under its everyday aspect, and at the same time to find out if there were so many Christians prisoners as the Armenians in Yuzgat would have had me believe.
I found the gaoler seated in the doorway, he was smoking a long pipe.
"Can I see the prison?" I asked.
"Certainly, Effendi."
Going before me, he led the way to a lofty but narrow room. Here there were twenty-seven prisoners, clothed in rags and tatters; each man had his wrist fastened to his instep by a light iron chain. No gaoler slept in this room with the prisoners. They would not have had any difficulty in freeing themselves from their manacles had they tried to do so.
"What do you give them to eat?" I inquired.