"It can be a time of hope," said the judge.

"But how long will it last?" asked Konrad.

The judge shrugged his shoulders. "It may last three weeks, but it
might last double that time."

Konrad asked confidingly: "Do you think, sir, that a man can hold
out?--with the terror of death lasting for weeks?"

"Haven't you just a little confidence?" asked the judge. "Haven't we
all to endure uncertainty?--the judge as well as the condemned man?"

"But what am I to do?" demanded Konrad. "How am I to employ myself all
the dreadful time? It's being buried alive."

"Unhappily it's not in my power to give you a better room, though you
haven't the worst cell in the building. But perhaps you have some
other desire that can be granted. Speak out frankly, Ferleitner," said
the judge.

Therewith he folded the paper, and put the writing materials into his
coat pocket. Konrad followed his proceedings with his eyes. He could
not comprehend how this dread personage came to speak to him in so
kindly a fashion. "As to the room," he said, "it's all I need--when
you've nothing to do, and are not likely to have anything to do, what
can a man want? If a man isn't free, nothing else matters. But one
thing--I have one request, sir."