Puppet by Eva Wiseman Page B

feet, so I tried to move as little as possible in order not to lose my footing. I was high enough to grab hold of one of the bars and to peek into the cell. I saw Morris below me. He had lit the candle I had given him and had put it on top of his cot. He was swaying back and forth in front of the candle with his eyes closed, murmuring softly.
    I was just about to call down to him when Warden Henter appeared at the entrance to Morris's cell. The warden could be jovial, but it was frightening how quickly his smiles disappeared when he was alone with the prisoners.
    Morris's eyes were tightly shut. He was so absorbed in his prayers he didn't notice Warden Henter's entrance.
    “What do you think you're doing?” Henter shouted.
    Morris jumped.
    “I'm praying for my mama,” he said. “Today is the anniversary of her death.”
    “A good thing too,” Henter said. “One less Jewish bitch to cheat God-fearing Christian people!”
    Morris lunged at him. The candle toppled over, spluttered, and went out.
    “How dare you insult my mother's memory!” he cried. “Leave my mama alone!”
    Warden Henter snickered like a schoolboy. He grabbed Morris's long forelocks and tugged on them with all his might. Morris was brought to his knees.
    One of the guards appeared on the threshold of the cell.
    “Warden Henter, you're wanted in your office immediately.” Henter released Morris. The boy collapsed onto his cot.
    I felt the watermelons under my feet begin to roll and I was falling.
    “What's that noise?” I heard Henter ask.
    I picked up my skirts and ran down the street as fast as I could.
    Mr. Eotvos arrived at the prison in a fine carriage. He was a tall, imposing man. He was clean-shaven and formally dressed in city clothes with a black bowler hat on his head. He was accompanied by a smaller man, dressed in a similar elegant suit.
    The warden greeted the men on the front steps of the jail with smiles and handshakes. They entered the building and headed to Henter's office.
    “Hurry up! The warden wants refreshments served right away,” said Teresa.
    She bustled about the kitchen as she poured cool raspberry juice she had strained that morning into a pitcher. Iput glasses and plates on a tray and a plate of biscuits beside them. I balanced the tray carefully on my way to the office because I didn't want the juice to spill over.
    The visitors were sitting in armchairs while the warden was behind his desk.
    “Ah, refreshments!” said Warden Henter. “You must be tired and thirsty after your long journey.”
    “Not at all,” replied Mr. Eotvos. “Thank you, m'dear,” he said when I put down the tray on a small pedestal table by his side.
    I didn't know how to reply. No gentleman had ever thanked me before for my services. The door of the study was flung open. Gendarme Bako nudged Morris into the room.
    “Our witness!” Warden Henter announced.
    Morris was trembling. He gave a frightened look in my direction. I smiled back. I saw Mr. Eotvos looking at us.
    “If you don't mind, Warden, I prefer to speak to the witness alone,” said Mr. Eotvos.
    “Certainly,” Warden Henter said, a strained smile on his face. He stood up. “I have a busy day. Judge Korniss is waiting for me.”
    Mr. Eotvos's eyebrows shot upward.
    “Judge Korniss? Was he appointed as presiding judge at the trial?”
    The warden's face paled. He realized he should not have spoken.
    “Yes, he was,” he said lightly. “The judge and I have been playing whist together for many years — before all this nonsense started,” he added before turning on his heels and closing the door firmly behind him.
    After he was gone, Mr. Eotvos glanced at Bako.
    “My instructions are to stay,” said the gendarme.
    Mr. Eotvos stared at him hard. Bako looked back, unblinking.
    “If you must,” Mr. Eotvos finally said.
    I knew I should leave, but instead I retreated to the back of the room and began to dust the contents of a bookshelf with a corner of my apron. Just as