conviction, and shook his head. And with that unexpected break in his
feelings, of which the human soul is so capable, he laughed heartily
and cheerfully.

"Oh, Mueller! My dear Mueller! Oh, you splendid German! After all you
are right, Mueller, and I am an ass!"

He paced the cell quickly several times and to the great astonishment
of the soldier who was watching him through the peephole, he quickly
undressed himself and cheerfully went through all the eighteen
exercises with the greatest care. He stretched and expanded his young,
somewhat emaciated body, sat down for a moment, drew deep breaths of
air and exhaled it, stood up on tip-toe, stretched his arms and his
feet. And after each exercise he announced, with satisfaction:

"That's it! That's the real way, Mueller!" His cheeks flushed; drops
of warm, pleasant perspiration came from the pores of his body, and
his heart beat soundly and evenly.

"The fact is, Mueller," philosophized Sergey, expanding his chest so
that the ribs under his thin, tight skin were outlined clearly,-"the
fact is, that there is a nineteenth exercise-to hang by the neck
motionless. That is called execution. Do you understand, Mueller? They
take a live man, let us say Sergey Golovin, they swaddle him as a doll
and they hang him by the neck until he is dead. It is a foolish
exercise, Mueller, but it can't be helped,-we have to do it."

He bent over on the right side and repeated:

"We have to do it, Mueller."