Królikiewicz fell silent, but a nervous twitch lingered on his thin lips, and grief spread across his stern face. After regaining self-control, he told about his arrest, the inquest and the trial.
Then Shevchenko told them about the Brotherhood of Saints Cyril and Methodius and about his copy of the manuscript Three Years the gendarmes had taken away from him. He read his poems To the Dead, the Living and the Unborn… and My Testament, as well as one or two others.
The Poles looked reverently at him, feeling happy for the first time since they had landed in this horrible prison without walls.
Back at the barracks, Shevchenko lay down on his bunk and opened a book, pretending he was reading it, but instead of the Heterogeneous Tales and Mickiewicz he saw before his eyes the events of his
