FiveyearslaterIampacingthecourtyardoftheMetechskiPrisoninTiflis，and，asIdoso，tryingtoimagineforwhatparticularoffenceIhavebeenincarceratedinthatplaceofconfinement。
Picturesquelygrimwithout，theinstitutionis，inwardly，peopledwithasetofcheerful，butclumsy，humourists。Thatistosay，itwouldseemasthough，“byorderoftheauthorities，“theinmatesarepresentingastagespectacleinwhichtheyareplaying，willinglyandzealously，butwithacompletelackofexperience，imperfectlycomprehendedrolesasprisoners，warders，andgendarmes。
Forinstance，today，whenawarderandagendarmecametomycelltoescortmetoexercise，andIsaidtothem，“MayIbeexcusedexercisetoday？Iamnotverywell，anddonotfeellike，etcetera，etcetera，“thegendarme，atall，handsomemanwitharedbeard，helduptomeawarningfinger。
“NOONE，“hesaid，“hasgivenyoupermissiontofeel，ornottofeel，likedoingthings。“
Towhichthewarder，amanasdarkasachimney-sweep，withlargeblue“whites“tohiseyes，addedstutteringly: