dread for them; they did not evoke alarm, pity was not for them;
they one and all called forth in her only admiration and love, which
warmly embraced her heart; the admiration was calm, the love joyously
distinct. There they sat to one side, by the wall, young, sturdy,
scarcely taking any part in the monotonous talk of the witnesses and
judges, or in the disputes of the lawyers with the prosecuting
attorney. They behaved as if the talk did not concern them in the
least. Sometimes somebody would laugh contemptuously, and say
something to the comrades, across whose faces, then, a sarcastic smile
would also quickly pass. Andrey and Pavel conversed almost the entire
time with one of their lawyers, whom the mother had seen the day before
at Nikolay's, and had heard Nikolay address as comrade. Mazin, brisker
and more animated than the others, listened to the conversation. Now
and then Samoylov said something to Ivan Gusev; and the mother noticed
that each time Ivan gave a slight elbow nudge to a comrade, he could
scarcely restrain a laugh; his face would grow red, his cheeks would
puff up, and he would have to incline his head. He had already sniffed
a couple of times, and for several minutes afterward sat with blown
cheeks trying to be serious. Thus, in each comrade his youth played and
sparkled after his fashion, lightly bursting the restraint he
endeavored to put upon its lively effervescence. She looked, compared,
and reflected. She was unable to understand or express in words her
uneasy feeling of hostility.

Sizov touched her lightly with his elbow; she turned to him, and found
a look of contentment and slight preoccupation on his face.

"Just see how they've intrenched themselves in their defiance! Fine
stuff in 'em! Eh? Barons, eh? Well, and yet they're going to be
sentenced!"

The mother listened, unconsciously repeating to herself:

"Who will pass the sentence? Whom will they sentence?"

The witnesses spoke quickly, in their colorless voices, the judges
reluctantly and listlessly. Their bloodless, worn-out faces stared
into space unconcernedly. They did not expect to see or hear anything
new. At times the fat judge yawned, covering his smile with his puffy
hand, while the red-mustached judge grew still paler, and sometimes
raised his hand to press his finger tightly on the bone of his temple,
as he looked up to the ceiling with sorrowful, widened eyes. The
prosecuting attorney infrequently sc