themselves in chinks and
crevices, and suck their hearts out each one for himself. Their
resolution isn't strong enough to make them gather into a group."

Nikolay brought a bottle of alcohol, put coals in the samovar, and
walked away silently. Ignaty accompanied him with a curious look.

"A gentleman?"

"In this business there are no masters; they're all comrades!"

"It's strange to me," said Ignaty with a skeptical but embarrassed
smile.

"What's strange?"

"This: at one end they beat you in the face; at the other they wash
your feet. Is there a middle of any kind?"

The door of the room was flung open and Nikolay, standing on the
threshold, said:

"And in the middle stand the people who lick the hands of those who
beat you in the face and suck the blood of those whose faces are
beaten. That's the middle!"

Ignaty looked at him respectfully, and after a pause said: "That's it!"

The mother sighed. "Mikhail Ivanovich also always used to say, 'That's
it!' like an ax blow."

"Nilovna, you're evidently tired. Permit me--I----"

The peasant pulled his feet uneasily.

"That'll do;" said the mother, rising. "Well, Ignaty, now wash
yourself."

The young man arose, shifted his feet about, and stepped firmly on the
floor.

"They seem like new feet. Thank you! Many, many thanks!"

He drew a wry face, his lips trembled, and his eyes reddened. After a
pause, during which he regarded the basin of black water, he whispered
softly:

"I don't even know how to thank you!"

Then they sat down to the table to drink tea. And Ignaty soberly began:

"I was the distributor of literature, a very strong fellow at walking.
Uncle Mikhail gave me the job. 'Distribute!' says he; 'and if you get
caught you're alone.'"

"Do many people read?" asked Nikolay.

"All who can. Even some of the rich read. Of course, they don't get
it from us. They'd clap us right into chains if they did! They
understand that this is a slipknot for them in all ages."

"Why a slipknot?"

"What else!" exclaimed Ignaty in amazement. "Why, the peasants are
themselves going to take the land from everyone else. They'll wash it
out with their blood from under the gentry and the rich; that is to
say, they themselves are going to divide it, and divide it so that
there won't be masters or workingmen anymore. How then? What's the use
of getting into a scrap if not for that?"

Ignaty even seemed to be offended. He looked at Nikol