"Of course!" said Nikolay.

Ignaty snorted in embarrassment. Nikolay found the note, straightened
it out, looked at it, and handed the gray, crumpled piece of paper to
the mother.

"For you."

"Read it."

"'Mother, don't let the affair go without your attention. Tell the
tall lady not to forget to have them write more for our cause, I beg of
you. Good-by. Rybin.'"

"My darling!" said the mother sadly. "They've already seized him by
the throat, and he----"

Nikolay slowly dropped his hand holding the note.

"That's magnificent!" he said slowly and respectfully. "It both
touches and teaches."

Ignaty looked at them, and quietly shook his bared feet with his dirty
hands. The mother, covering her tearful face, walked up to him with a
basin of water, sat down on the floor, and stretched out her hands to
his feet. But he quickly thrust them under the bench, exclaiming in
fright:

"What are you going to do?"

"Give me your foot, quick!"

"I'll bring the alcohol at once," said Nikolay.

The young man shoved his foot still farther under the bench and mumbled:

"What ARE you going to do? It's not proper."

Then the mother silently unbared his other foot. Ignaty's round face
lengthened in amazement. He looked around helplessly with his
wide-open eyes.

"Why, it's going to tickle me!"

"You'll be able to bear it," answered the mother, beginning to wash his
feet.

Ignaty snorted aloud, and moving his neck awkwardly looked down at her,
comically drooping his under lip.

"And do you know," she said tremulously, "that they beat Mikhail
Ivanovich?"

"What?" the peasant exclaimed in fright.

"Yes; he had been beaten when they led him to the village, and in
Nikolsk the sergeant beat him, the police commissioner beat him in the
face and kicked him till he bled." The mother became silent,
overwhelmed by her recollections.

"They can do it," said the peasant, lowering his brows sullenly. His
shoulders shook. "That is, I fear them like the devils. And the
peasants--didn't the peasants beat him?"

"One beat him. The police commissioner ordered him to. All the others
were so so--they even took his part. 'You mustn't beat him!' they
said."

"Um! Yes, yes! The peasants are beginning to realize where a man
stands, and for what he stands."

"There are sensible people there, too."

"Where can't you find sensible people? Necessity! They're everywhere;
but it's hard to get at them. They hide