this life where there is no place for us, where we are no human beings."

He stopped, and everybody maintained silence, moving still closer to
him. The mother stared at her son. She saw only his eyes, his proud,
brave, burning eyes.

"Comrades! We have decided to declare openly who we are; we raise our
banner to-day, the banner of reason, of truth, of liberty! And now I
raise it!"

A flag pole, white and slender, flashed in the air, bent down, cleaving
the crowd. For a moment it was lost from sight; then over the uplifted
faces the broad canvas of the working people's flag spread its wings
like a red bird.

Pavel raised his hand--the pole swung, and a dozen hands caught the
smooth white rod. Among them was the mother's hand.

"Long live the working people!" he shouted. Hundreds of voices
responded to his sonorous call. "Long live the Social Democratic
Workingmen's Party, our party, comrades, our spiritual mother."

The crowd seethed and hummed. Those who understood the meaning of the
flag squeezed their way up to it. Mazin, Samoylov, and the Gusevs
stood close at Pavel's side. Nikolay with bent head pushed his way
through the crowd. Some other people unknown to the mother, young and
with burning eyes, jostled her.

"Long live the working people of all countries!" shouted Pavel.

And ever increasing in force and joy, a thousand-mouthed echo responded
in a soul-stirring acclaim.

The mother clasped Pavel's hand, and somebody else's, too. She was
breathless with tears, yet refrained from shedding them. Her legs
trembled, and with quivering lips she cried:

"Oh, my dear boys, that's true. There you are now----"

A broad smile spread over Nikolay's pockmarked face; he stared at the
flag and, stretching his hand toward it, roared out something; then
caught the mother around the neck with the same hand, kissed her, and
laughed.

"Comrades!" sang out the Little Russian, subduing the noise of the
crowd with his mellow voice. "Comrades! We have now started a holy
procession in the name of the new God, the God of Truth and Light, the
God of Reason and Goodness. We march in this holy procession,
comrades, over a long and hard road. Our goal is far, far away, and
the crown of thorns is near! Those who don't believe in the might of
truth, who have not the courage to stand up for it even unto death, who
do not believe in themselves and are afraid of suffering--such of you,
step aside! We call upon