There, at the bleak north door, swept by the chill March wind, and away from the genial light of the shining sun, they found Paulina and her children, a shivering, timid, shrinking group, looking pathetically strange and forlorn in their quaint Galician garb.
The pathos of the picture appeared to strike both the doctor and his friend at the same time.
"Brute!" said the doctor, "it's some beast of an understrapper. He might have let them in, anyway. I'll see the head turnkey."
"Isn't it terribly sad?" replied Mrs. French.
The doctor rang the bell at the jail door, prepared for battle.
"I want to see Mr. Cowan."
The guard glanced past the doctor, saw the shrinking group behind him and gruffly announced, "This, is not the hour for visitors."
"I want to see Mr. Cowan," repeated the doctor slowly, looking the guard steadily in the eye. "Is he in?"
"Come in," said the guard sullenly, allowing the doctor and his friend to enter, and shutting the door in the faces of the Galicians.
In a few moments Mr. Cowan appeared, a tall athletic man, kindly of face and of manner. He greeted Mrs. French and the doctor warmly.
"Come into the office," he said; "come in."
"Mr. Cowan," said Mrs. French, "there is a poor Galician woman and her children outside the door, the wife and children of the man who was condemned yesterday. The Judge told them they could see the prisoner to-day."
"The hour for visitors," said Mr. Cowan, "is three in the afternoon."
"Could you not let her in now? She has already waited for hours at the door this morning, and on being refused went home broken-hearted. She does not understand our ways and is very timid. I wish you could let her in now while I am here."
Mr. Cowan hesitated. "I should greatly like to oblige you, Mrs.
French. You know that. Sit down, and I will see. Let that woman and her children in," he said to the guard.
The guard went sullenly to the door, followed by Mrs. French.
"Come in here," he said in a gruff voice.
Mrs. French hurried past him, took Paulina by the arm, and saying, "Come in and sit down," led her to a bench and sat beside her.
"It's all right," she whispered. "I am sure you can see your husband. Tell her," she said to Irma.
In a short time Mr. Cowan came back.
"They may see him," he said. "It is against all discipline, but it is pretty hard to resist Mrs. French," he continued, turning to the doctor.
"It is quite useless trying!" said the doctor; "I have long ago discovered that."
"Come," said that little lady leading Paulina to the door of the cell.
The guard turned the lock, shot back the bolts, opened the door and motioning with his hand, said gruffly to Paulina, "Go in."
The woman looked into the cell in shrinking fear.
"Go on," said Mrs. French in an encouraging voice, patting her on the shoulder, "I will wait here."
Clinging to one another, the woman and children passed in through the door which the guard closed behind them with a reverberating clang. Mrs. French sat on the bench outside, her face cast down, her eyes closed. Now and then through the grating of the door rose and fell a sound of voices mingled with that of sobs and weeping, hearing which, Mrs. French covered her face with her hands, while the tears trickled down through her fingers.
As she sat there, the door-bell rang and two Galician men appeared, seeking admission.
"We come to see Kalmar," said one of them.
Mrs. French came eagerly forward. "Oh, let them come in, please.
They are friends of the prisoner. I know them."
Without a word the guard turned from her, strode to the office where Mr. Cowan sat in conversation with the doctor, and in a few moments returned with permission for the men to enter.
"Sit down there," he said, pointing to a bench on the opposite side of the door from that on which Mrs. French was sitting.
Before many minutes had elapsed, the prisoner appeared at the door of his cell with Paulina and his children.
"Would you kindly open the door?" he said in a courteous tone to the guard. "They wish to depart."
The guard went toward the door, followed by Mrs. French, who stood waiting with hands outstretched toward the weeping Paulina. As the door swung open, the children came forth, but upon the threshold Paulina paused, glanced into the cell, ran back and throwing herself at the prisoner's feet, seized his hand and kissed it again and again with loud weeping.
For a single instant the man yielded her his hand, and then in a voice stern but not unkind, he said, "Go. My children are in your keeping. Be faithful."
At once the woman rose and came back to the door where Mrs. French stood waiting for her.
As they passed on, the guard turned to the men and said briefly, "Come."
As they were about to enter the cell, the boy suddenly left Paulina's side, ran to Simon Ketzel and clutching firm hold of his hand said, "Let me go with you."
"Go back," said the guard, but the boy still clung to Ketzel's hand.
"Oh, let him go," said Mrs. French. "He will do no harm." And the guard gave grudging permission.
With a respectful, almost reverential mien, the men entered the cell, knelt before the prisoner and kissed his hand. The moments were precious and there was much to say and do, so Kalmar lost no time.
"I have sent for you," he said, "first to give you my report which you will send back to headquarters."
Over and over again he repeated the words of his report, till he was certain that they had it in sure possession.
"This must go at once," he said.
"At once," replied Simon.
"In a few weeks or months," continued the prisoner in a low voice, "I expect to be free. Siberia could not hold me, and do you think that any prison in this country can? But this report must go immediately."
"Immediately," said Simon again.
"Now," said Kalmar solemnly, "there is one thing more. Our cause fails chiefly because of traitors. In this city is a traitor. My oath demands his death or mine. If I fail, I must pass the work on to another. It is for this I have called you here. You are members of our Brotherhood. What do you say?"
The men stood silent.
"Speak!" said Kalmar in a low stern voice. "Have you no words?"
