And he raised his hands in horror at this shocking discovery.
“On the contrary,” replied I. “If I were in your place I should feel reassured about that, if a prisoner broke his chains openly.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” said the governor; “this is a serious business.”
“If I were contemplating flight,” continued I, “I should not break my fetters in the presence of the inspector, but should carefully keep quiet about it. I merely wanted to get rid of a perfectly unnecessary inconvenience, that worries me day and night.”
“That’s all very well,” observed the governor, “but you can’t expect me to give you permission to take them off as you please in this fashion!”
“You needn’t give me permission,” I returned. “You need only behave as if you know nothing about the matter, and consider everything to be ‘in good order,’ as you say in your reports.”
“That’s a nice suggestion!” said the old governor, amused and half relenting. “But what do you suppose my superiors would think of it?”
“Unless you tell them, I don’t see that they will ever have cause to think about it,” I replied. “It will never occur to the Governor of Moscow to examine whether my chains are fastened with rivets or with string.”
“Then if an inspection is made you will be wearing your fetters?” he asked, laughing.
“Of course! You see, I’ve come to you in full dress,” and I pointed to my tied-up chains.