from prison; and they also talked of the dead king, and they spoke
evil of him.

"If he had been a just man, he would have set us free," said one
of the prisoners.

"Or else he would have imprisoned all the criminals who are at
large."

"Then he himself would have had to be Governor of the Prison, for
the whole nation are criminals."

It is the way of prisoners to regard all men as criminals, and to
maintain that they themselves were only caught because they were
unlucky.

But it was a hot summer's day, and the stone man walked along the
shore, listening to the tolling of the bells for Oscar the king.
He raised the stones and looked for tadpoles and sticklebacks, but
could find none; not a fish was visible in the water, and consequently
there was not a sign of a sea-gull or a tern. Then he felt that a
curse rested on the mountain, a curse so strong that it kept even
the fishes and the birds away. He fell to considering the life he
was leading. He had lost his name, both Christian and surname, and
was no more now than No. 65, a name written in figures, instead of
in letters. He was no longer obliged to pay taxes. He had forgotten
his age. He had ceased to be a man, ceased to be a living being,
but neither was he dead. He was nothing but something grey moving
on the mountain and being terribly scorched by the sun. It burned
on his prison garb and on his head with the close-cropped hair,