Marya Korsunova, the peddler."

"I do. Well?"

"Speak to her; see if you can't get her to smuggle in our wares."

"We could pay her, you know," interjected Yegor.

The mother waved her hands in negation.

"Oh, no! The woman is a chatterbox. No! If they find out it comes
from me, from this house--oh, no!"

Then, inspired by a sudden idea, she began gladly and in a low voice:

"Give it to me, give it to me. I'll manage it myself. I'll find a
way. I will ask Marya to make me her assistant. I have to earn my
living, I have to work. Don't I? Well, then, I'll carry dinners to
the factory. Yes, I'll manage it!"

Pressing her hands to her bosom, she gave hurried assurances that she
would carry out her mission well and escape detection. Finally she
exclaimed in triumph: "They'll find out--Pavel Vlasov is away, but his
arm reaches out even from jail. They'll find out!"

All three became animated. Briskly rubbing his hands, Yegor smiled and
said:

"It's wonderful, stupendous! I say, granny, it's superb--simply
magnificent!"

"I'll sit in jail as in an armchair, if this succeeds," said Samoylov,
laughing and rubbing his hands.

"You are fine, granny!" Yegor hoarsely cried.

The mother smiled. It was evident to her that if the leaflets should
continue to appear in the factory, the authorities would be forced to
recognize that it was not her son who distributed them. And feeling
assured of success, she began to quiver all over with joy.

"When you go to see Pavel," said Yegor, "tell him he has a good mother."

"I'll see him very soon, I assure you," said Samoylov, smiling.

The mother grasped his hand and said earnestly:

"Tell him that I'll do everything, everything necessary. I want him to
know it."

"And suppose they don't put him in prison?" asked Yegor, pointing at
Samoylov.

The mother sighed and said sadly:

"Well, then, it can't be helped!"

Both of them burst out laughing. And when she realized her ridiculous
blunder, she also began to laugh in embarrassment, and lowering her
eyes said somewhat slyly:

"Bothering about your own folk keeps you from seeing other people
straight."

"That's natural!" exclaimed Yegor. "And as to Pavel, you need not
worry about him. He'll come out of prison a still better man. The
prison is our place of rest and study--things we have no time for when
we are at large. I was in prison three times, and each time, although
I got scant pleasure, I