h."

"They certainly would," Ignaty assented, nodding his head. "No, I'll
go to the factory. It's better there."

"You say Pavel's going to be tried?" asked Rybin.

"Yes. They've decided on a trial."

"Well, what'll he get? Have you heard?"

"Hard labor, or exile to Siberia for life," answered the mother softly.
The three young men simultaneously turned their look on her, and Rybin,
lowering his head, asked slowly:

"And when he got this affair up, did he know what was in store for him?"

"I don't know. I suppose he did."

"He did," said Sofya aloud.

All were silent, motionless, as if congealed by one cold thought.

"So," continued Rybin slowly and gravely. "I, too, think he knew. A
serious man looks before he leaps. There, boys, you see, the man knew
that he might be struck with a bayonet, or exiled to hard labor; but he
went. He felt it was necessary for him to go, and he went. If his
mother had lain across his path, he would have stepped over her body
and gone his way. Wouldn't he have stepped over you, Nilovna?"

"He would," said the mother shuddering and looking around. She heaved
a heavy sigh. Sofya silently stroked her hand.

"There's a man for you!" said Rybin in a subdued voice, his dark eyes
roving about the company. They all became silent again. The thin rays
of the sun trembled like golden ribbons in the thick, odorous
atmosphere. Somewhere a crow cawed with bold assurance. The mother
looked around, troubled by her recollections of the first of May, and
grieving for her son and Andrey.

Broken barrels lay about in confusion in the small, crowded glade.
Uprooted stumps stretched out their dead, scraggy roots, and chips of
wood littered the ground. Dense oaks and birches encircled the
clearing, and drooped over it slightly on all sides as if desiring to
sweep away and destroy this offensive rubbish and dirt.

Suddenly Yakob moved forward from the tree, stepped to one side,
stopped, and shaking his head observed dryly:

"So, when we're in the army with Yefim, it's on such men as Pavel
Mikhaylovich that they'll set us."

"Against whom did you think they'd make you go?" retorted Rybin glumly.
"They choke us with our own hands. That's where the jugglery comes in."

"I'll join the army all the same," announced Yefim obstinately.

"Who's trying to dissuade you?" exclaimed Ignaty. "Go!" He looked
Yefim straight in the face, and said with a smile: "If you're going to
shoot at