And he resorted to deception; he bent over an inhabitant and whispered into his ear:
"Oh, citizen, the fatherland is in danger. It is, I swear. By all that's holy! it is in great danger. Get up; it is necessary to resist. They say that all kinds of activities will be allowed. Citizen!" But the dying citizen only murmured: "My fatherland is in God."
The others were simply silent, like offended corpses.
"The cursed fatalists!" shouted Igemon in despair. "Get up! All kinds of resistance is allowed."
One who had been a jolly fellow, and had distinguished himself by knocking out people's teeth, raised himself a little, looked round and said:
"What shall we resist? There is nothing to resist."
"But the vermin?"
"We are used to it."
Igemon's reason received the last shock. He got up and roared in awe-inspiring tones:
"I permit you everything, fellows; save yourselves; do what you like; everything is permitted—eat each other."