"How many have been shot?"
"Ach! I cannot give prisoners news of that kind. But I can tell you that there are three left, and you are one of them!"
I smiled to myself at the gaoler's rigid observance of the letter of German prison law to refuse news to prisoners, yet giving the desired information in an indirect manner.
"When shall I hear the result of my trial?"
"Trial? You have not been tried yet!"
"What? You must be mistaken. I was tried on Wednesday night!"
"That wasn't the trial. That was the enquiry!"
"Then when will the trial come off?"
"You'll learn the result of the trial soon enough!" and he slammed the door to prevent further discussion.
I was completely flabbergasted. I scratched my head and endeavoured to collect my thoughts. Surely I could not have heard aright. Yet the man must know what he was talking about. The more I pondered the more perplexed I became. Then the head-gaoler's stress upon the word "result!" What did that portend? New fears crept into my mind. So when M——, the under-gaoler, came round next morning, I badgered him, but he would say no more than that the trial had not yet come off.