Book 3 Chapter 27 Kryltzoff at Rest

In one of the exiles' cells Nekhludoff, to his surprise,
recognised the strange old man he had seen crossing the ferry
that morning. This old man was sitting on the floor by the beds,
barefooted, with only a dirty cinder-coloured shirt on, torn on
one shoulder, and similar trousers. He looked severely and
enquiringly at the newcomers. His emaciated body, visible through
the holes of his shirt, looked miserably weak, but in his face
was even more concentrated seriousness and animation than when
Nekhludoff saw him crossing the ferry. As in all the other cells,
so here also the prisoners jumped up and stood erect when the
official entered, but the old man remained sitting. His eyes
glittered and his brows frowned with wrath.

"Get up," the inspector called out to him.

The old man did not rise and only smiled contemptuously.

"Thy servants are standing before thee. I am not thy servant.
Thou bearest the seal--" The old man pointed to the inspector's
forehead.

"Wha-a-t?" said the inspector threateningly, and made a step
towards him.

"I know this man," Nekhludoff hastened to say; "what is he
imprisoned for?"

"The police have sent him here because he has no passport. We ask
them not to send such, but they will do it," said the inspector,
casting an angry side look at the old man.

"And so it seems thou, too, art one of Antichrist's army?" the
old man said to Nekhludoff.

"No, I am a visitor," said Nekhludoff.

"What, hast thou come to see how Antichrist tortures men? There,
look, he has locked them up in a cage, a whole army of them. Men
should eat bread in the sweat of their brow. And he has locked
them up with no work to do, and feeds them like swine, so that
they should turn into beasts."