y good that you
started to say 'thou' to him after that."

She looked at him in astonishment, and after reflecting a moment, said:

"Um, I didn't even notice how it came. It came all of itself. He has
grown so near to me. I can't tell you in words just how I feel. Oh,
such a misfortune!"

"You have a good heart, mamma," Pavel said softly.

"I'm very glad if I have. If I could only help you in some way, all of
you. If I only could!"

"Don't fear, you will."

She laughed softly:

"I can't help fearing; that's exactly what I can't help. But thank you
for the good word, my dear son."

"All right, mother; don't let's talk about it any more. Know that I
love you; and I thank you most heartily."

She walked into the kitchen in order not to annoy him with her tears.

CHAPTER XVIII

Several days later Vyesovshchikov came in, as shabby, untidy, and
disgruntled as ever.

"Haven't you heard who killed Isay?" He stopped in his clumsy pacing
of the room to turn to Pavel.

"No!" Pavel answered briefly.

"There you got a man who wasn't squeamish about the job! And I'd
always been preparing to do it myself. It was my job--just the thing
for me!"

"Don't talk nonsense, Nikolay," Pavel said in a friendly manner.

"Now, really, what's the matter with you?" interposed the mother
kindly. "You have a soft heart, and yet you keep barking like a
vicious dog. What do you go on that way for?"

At this moment she was actually pleased to see Nikolay. Even his
pockmarked face looked more agreeable to her. She pitied him as never
before.

"Well, I'm not fit for anything but jobs like that!" said Nikolay
dully, shrugging his shoulders. "I keep thinking, and thinking where
my place in the world is. There is no place for me! The people
require to be spoken to, and I cannot. I see everything; I feel all
the people's wrongs; but I cannot express myself: I have a dumb soul."
He went over to Pavel with drooping head; and scraping his fingers on
the table, he said plaintively, and so unlike himself, childishly,
sadly: "Give me some hard work to do, comrade. I can't live this life
any longer. It's so senseless, so useless. You are all working in the
movement, and I see that it is growing, and I'm outside of it all. I
haul boards and beams. Is it possible to live for the sake of hauling
timber? Give me some hard work."

Pavel clasped his hand, pulling him toward himself.

"We will!"

From behind the