We seemed to be rumbling up the hill, and then I caught the glare of lighted streets.
'This is the end of it, Peter,' I said.
'_Ja_, Cornelis,' he replied, and that was all our talk.
By and by--hours later it seemed--we stopped.

Someone opened the door and we got out, to find ourselves in a courtyard with a huge dark building around.

The prison, I guessed, and I wondered if they would give us blankets, for it was perishing cold.
We entered a door, and found ourselves in a big stone hall.

It was quite warm, which made me more hopeful about our cells.

A man in some kind of uniform pointed to the staircase, up which we plodded wearily.
My mind was too blank to take clear impressions, or in any way to forecast the future.