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which were not either dry, dulled, or flaming with an evil
light. The escort troop cursed, the men in chains did not
utter a syllable; from time to time the sound of a blow be-
came audible as the cudgels descended on shoulder-blades
or skulls; some of these men were yawning; their rags were
terrible; their feet hung down, their shoulders oscillated,
their heads clashed together, their fetters clanked, their eyes
glared ferociously, their fists clenched or fell open inertly
like the hands of corpses; in the rear of the convoy ran a
band of children screaming with laughter.
This file of vehicles, whatever its nature was, was mourn-
ful. It was evident that to-morrow, that an hour hence, a
pouring rain might descend, that it might be followed by
another and another, and that their dilapidated garments
would be drenched, that once soaked, these men would
not get dry again, that once chilled, they would not again
get warm, that their linen trousers would be glued to their
bones by the downpour, that the water would fill their shoes,
that no lashes from the whips would be able to prevent their
jaws from chattering, that the chain would continue to bind
them by the neck, that their legs would continue to dangle,
and it was impossible not to shudder at the sight of these hu-
man beings thus bound and passive beneath the cold clouds
of autumn, and delivered over to the rain, to the blast, to all
the furies of the air, like trees and stones.
Blows from the cudgel were not omitted even in the case
of the sick men, who lay there knotted with ropes and mo-
tionless on the seventh wagon, and who appeared to have
been tossed there like sacks filled with misery.