held the first.

"Lazy, good-for-nothing beast!"

"Come!" said the blue-eyed peasant, motioning with his head; and
without hastening, the two walked toward the town hall, accompanied by
a kind look from the mother. She sighed with relief. The sergeant
again ran heavily up the steps, and shaking his fists in menace, bawled
from his height vehemently:

"Bring him here, officers, I say! I say----"

"Don't!" a strong voice resounded in the crowd, and the mother knew it
came from the blue-eyed peasant. "Boys! don't permit it! They'll take
him in there and beat him to death, and then they'll say we killed him.
Don't permit it!"

"Peasants!" the powerful voice of Rybin roared, drowning the shouts of
the sergeant. "Don't you understand your life? Don't you understand
how they rob you--how they cheat you--how they drink your blood? You
keep everything up; everything rests on you; you are all the power that
is at the bottom of everything on earth--its whole power. And what
rights have you? You have the right to starve--it's your only right!"

"He's speaking the truth, I tell YOU!"

Some men shouted:

"Call the commissioner of police! Where is the commissioner of police?"

"The sergeant has ridden away for him!"

"It's not our business to call the authorities!"

The noise increased as the crowd grew louder and louder.

"Speak! We won't let them beat you!"

"Officers, untie his hands!"

"No, brothers; that's not necessary!"

"Untie him!"

"Look out you don't do something you'll, be sorry for!"

"I am sorry for my hands!" Rybin said evenly and resonantly, making
himself heard above all the other voices. "I'll not escape, peasants.
I cannot hide from my truth; it lives inside of me!"

Several men walked away from the crowd, formed different circles, and
with earnest faces and shaking their heads carried on conversations.
Some smiled. More and more people came running up--excited, bearing
marks of having dressed quickly. They seethed like black foam about
Rybin, and he rocked to and fro in their midst. Raising his hands over
his head and shaking them, he called into the crowd, which responded
now by loud shouts, now by silent, greedy attention, to the unfamiliar,
daring words:

"Thank you, good people! Thank you! I stood up for you, for your
lives!" He wiped his beard and again raised his blood-covered hand.
"There's my blood! It flows for the sake of truth!"

The mother, without considerin