them, those
devils, and you think they got up all this at random--they're ruining
themselves for nothing. And suddenly you begin to think: 'And maybe
they're right!' You remember that in the factory more like them keep
on coming, keep on coming. They always get caught; but they're not
destroyed, no more than common fish in the river get destroyed. No.
And again you think, 'And maybe power is with them, too.'"

"It's hard for us, Stepan Petrov, to understand this affair," said
Sizov.

"It's hard, yes," agreed Samoylov.

His wife noisily drawing in air through her nose remarked:

"They're all strong, those imps!" With an unrestrained smile on her
broad, wizened face, she continued: "You, Nilovna, don't be angry with
me because I just now slapped you, when I said that your son is to
blame. A dog can tell who's the more to blame, to tell you the truth.
Look at the gendarmes and the spies, what they said about our Vasily!
He has shown what he can do too!"

She apparently was proud of her son, perhaps even without understanding
her feeling; but the mother did understand her feeling, and answered
with a kind smile and quiet words:

"A young heart is always nearer to the truth."

People rambled about the corridor, gathered into groups, speaking
excitedly and thoughtfully in hollow voices. Scarcely anybody stood
alone; all faces bore evidence of a desire to speak, to ask, to listen.
In the narrow white passageway the people coiled about in sinuous
curves, like dust carried in circles before a powerful wind. Everybody
seemed to be seeking something hard and firm to stand upon.

The older brother of Bukin, a tall, red-faced fellow, waved his hands
and turned about rapidly in all directions.

"The district elder Klepanov has no place in this case," he declared
aloud.

"Keep still, Konstantin!" his father, a little old man, tried to
dissuade him, and looked around cautiously.

"No; I'm going to speak out! There's a rumor afloat about him that
last year he killed a clerk of his on account of the clerk's wife. What
kind of a judge is he? permit me to ask. He lives with the wife of his
clerk--what have you got to say to that? Besides, he's a well-known
thief!"

"Oh, my little father--Konstantin!"

"True!" said Samoylov. "True, the court is not a very just one."

Bukin heard his voice and quickly walked up to him, drawing the whole
crowd after him. Red with excitement, he waved his hands and said:

"For