The city still slept. No trading chapman, basket in hand, had yet made his appearance in the town. Boolba and Yankel came to a building which bore great resemblance to a sitting heron. It was low, wide, bulky, black; and on one side rose, like a stork's neck, a long narrow turret, beyond the top of which the roof projected. This building served many and various purposes. Here were the barracks, the prison, and even the criminal courts. Our travellers entered the gate, and found themselves in a large hall, or, rather, in a covered yard. There were nearly a thousand men sleeping here together. Straight on, was a low door, before which were sitting two sentries, who were playing at a game which consisted in one of them slapping the other with two fingers on the palm of the hand. The sentries paid no attention to the new-comers, and only turned their heads when Yankel said to them, "It's we, your worships! you hear, it's we!"
"Go!" said one of the sentries, opening the door with one hand, while he presented the other to receive the strokes of his comrade.
They stepped into a dark narrow passage, which brought them to another hall like the first, receiving its light from a small window in the roof. "Who goes there?" cried several voices at once; and Tarass beheld a great number of soldiers, armed cap-a-pie. "We cannot let any one pass."
"It's we!" cried Yank el; "by Heavens, your worships, it's we!" But nobody would listen to him. Fortunately, at this moment, a fat man approached, who, by his appearance, seemed to be the chief, for he used the most abusive language to the others.
"My lord, it's we; you already know all about us; and his lordship, the count, will thank you still more."
"Let them go; and a hundred devils to the fiend's mother! Let no one else pass, do not take off your swords, and do not, any of you, dare to roll on the floor like dogs."
The continuation of the eloquent order was lost to our travellers. "It's we; it's I; we are yours!" said Yankel to every one whom he met.
"May we go in?" he asked, of one of the sentries, as they came at last to the end of the passage.
"Yes, you may; but I do not know if you are allowed to pass into the gaol. Jan is no longer on duty, there is another one there now," answered the sentry.
"Ah! ah!" muttered the Jew; "this looks bad, my dear lord!"