It was built of stone, and there were no windows except the door through which I entered. It was very dark. I entered, and I was wearing nothing but a thin shirt. I was a prisoner, and there were no more than ten men. I said, "Oh, pale-faced men, you are almost dead from suffering during your long imprisonment." Their souls had left them. I sat down. Suddenly, one of them spoke to me. He said, "We are merchants from the Bood region in Omdurman. We were brought here and imprisoned." They looked at me with the suffering and blows they had endured. In the room, the darkness was almost complete. The prisoners were suffering from dysentery. The room was so narrow that people were piled on top of each other. Some were on their sides, others were shouting and crying. There was no ventilation except for the cracks in the door. Some had been there for more than a year. I heard the voice of Monsieur Newfield shouting from inside the prison, saying, "The man you brought has died." They had brought him in a hurry, and the guards did not care. They did not give him any medicine or water. I was afraid for my life. I thanked God for my safety. Each one of them had a piece of bread. They would go to their graves. May God protect me from such a fate.