yourself within, must put your own
estimate on yourself--your price, not for your enemies, but for your
friends."

"What friends have we?" the peasant exclaimed softly. "Up to the first
piece of bread."

"And I say that the people have friends."

"Yes, they have, but not here--that's the trouble," Stepan deliberated.

"Well, then create them here."

Stepan reflected a while. "We'll try."

"Sit down at the table," Tatyana invited her.

At supper, Pyotr, who had been subdued by the talk of the mother and
appeared to be at a loss, began to speak again with animation:

"Mother, you ought to get out of here as soon as possible, to escape
notice. Go to the next station, not to the city--hire the post horses."

"Why? I'm going to see her off!" said Stepan.

"You mustn't. In case anything happens and they ask you whether she
slept in your house--'She did.' 'When did she go?' 'I saw her off.'
'Aha! You did? Please come to prison!' Do you understand? And no one
ought to be in a hurry to get into prison; everybody's turn will come.
'Even the Czar will die,' as the saying goes. But the other way: she
simply spent the night in your house, hired horses, and went away. And
what of it? Somebody passing through the village sleeps with somebody
in the village. There's nothing in that."

"Where did you learn to be afraid, Pyotr?" Tatyana scoffed.

"A man must know everything, friend!" Pyotr exclaimed, striking his
knee--"know how to fear, know how to be brave. You remember how a
policeman lashed Vaganov for that newspaper? Now you'll not persuade
Vaganov for any amount of money to take a book in his hand. Yes; you
believe me, mother, I'm a sharp fellow for every sort of a
trick--everybody knows it. I'm going to scatter these books and papers
for you in the best shape and form, as much as you please. Of course,
the people here are not educated; they've been intimidated. However,
the times squeeze a man and wide open go his eyes, 'What's the matter?'
And the book answers him in a perfectly simple way: 'That's what's the
matter--Think! Unite! Nothing else is left for you to do!' There are
examples of men who can't read or write and can understand more than
the educated ones--especially if the educated ones have their stomachs
full. I go about here everywhere; I see much. Well? It's possible to
live; but you want brains and a lot of cleverness in order not to sit
down in the cesspool at once. The auth