38
PARTISAlN REVIEW
Satya did not recognize them, then saw they were party leaders with
whom he had been brought up in the van. He rose and went toward
them.
They, too, had been detained in solitary, and therefore did not
at first recognize one another. But when they saw Satya they knew
who he was and who they were, and their faces lightened, and they
clasped hands and came toward him eargerly, but slowly, unsteady
on their feet. A few had difficulty in standing erect, and these, Satya
knew, had been kept chained. All had grown pale with prison damp;
a few were now white, and a few bald.
As
they approached Satya
they began to weep; but controlling themselves, maintaining discipline,
they raised the weak cry: "Long live Satya!" and came forward and
embraced him, weeping.
Except for those who had been chained-their wrists and their
ankles, fastened together, had worn raw-they had not been molested
by the authorities. But a number of them were also starving. When
they looked at Satya they understood, and lowered their eyes and
knelt before him. He bade them rise.
"Comrades," he said to them, "I am thankful that we are to–
gether."
They spoke with one another, sitting on the stones of the court.
None had had news of the outside, except what the administration
had passed on to them, and none knew what had happened to the
other comrades who had come up with them on the prison journey
from Allaban. They begged Satya to forgive them for their conduct
in the van. A few still had hope, and they spoke words of encouragCI–
ment to one another, whether or not they believed what they were
saying. The movement would not fail, the people would now, at their
very worst hour, succeed in wresting their liberty from the oppres–
sor, and they would soon see Satya established as the leader of a free
land. But even as the comrades extended their encouragement they
refrained from mentioning Satya's fast, and held their eyes averted.
What wa5 it he felt for them? Shame? Shame was what he felt
before them; shame and guilt, remembering their accusations and
knowing that his failure had made them true. The reunion would
have been easier to bear, had the comrades still been hostile toward
him. H e tried to provoke their hostility, blaming himself for what had
happened; but they would not hear of it, and they silenced him with
the elaborate and flattering courtesy that was the custom of the land.
"You mustn't, you mustn't, it's sinful!" cried one of the elderly com–
rades, always a religious man; he quoted a few passages from Scrip-
