They stood before us in their white togas,
and they asked:
"Are you ready to speak?"
But we shook our head, lying before
them on the floor. And they departed.
We counted each day and each night as it passed.
Then, tonight, we knew that we must escape.
For tomorrow the World Council of Scholars
is to meet in our City.
It was easy to escape from the Palace of
Corrective Detention. The locks are old on
the doors and there are no guards about.
There is no reason to have guards, for men
have never defied the Councils so far as to
escape from whatever place they were
ordered to be. Our body is healthy and
strength returns to it speedily. We lunged
against the door and it gave way. We stole
through the dark passages, and through the
dark streets, and down into our tunnel.
We lit the candle and we saw that our
place had not been found and nothing had
been touched. And our glass box stood
before us on the cold oven, as we had left it.
What matter they now, the scars upon our back!
Tomorrow, in the full light of day, we
shall take our box, and leave our tunnel
open, and walk through the streets to the
Home of the Scholars.
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