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So here, at last, is your chance to appear as an orator." "How can I be of any use?" asked Elisaveta. "You have the gift of expression, Elisaveta," said Stchemilov. "You have a good voice, an easy flow of language, and you have a way of putting the case simply and clearly. It would be a sin for you not to speak." "We will bring down the Cadets a peg or two," said Kiril in his bass voice.
Stchemilov whistled and said: "That is the origin of all ownership. You simply took a thing and that's all there was to it. 'Blessed are the strong' is a little adage among those who have conquered violently." "And how did you get hold of this?" asked Piotr with derision.
"Not an infinite amount, but certainly enough to go round and plenty for every one," was Stchemilov's calm reply. "Ten or, say, a hundred acres per soul? Is that what you mean?" continued Piotr in loud derision. "You've got that idea into the heads of the muzhiks, and now they're in revolt." Stchemilov again whistled, and said with contemptuous calm: "Fiddlesticks!
Rameyev came up to them. He greeted his visitors pleasantly but coldly, giving an impression of studied correctness. The conversation continued somewhat awkwardly. Elisaveta's blue eyes looked gently and pensively at the irritated Piotr and at his deliberately inimical adversary Stchemilov. Piotr asked: "Mr. Stchemilov, would you care to explain to me this talk of an autocracy by the proletariat?
In the meantime the boat drew nearer. Two men were sitting in it. Aleksei Makarovitch Stchemilov, a young working man, a locksmith by trade, sat at the oars. He was thin and of medium height; there was a suggestion of irony in the shape of his lips. Elisaveta had known Stchemilov since the past autumn, when she became acquainted with other labouring men and party workmen.
Proud, brave watchwords and bold instructions were heard. The provocateur also made a speech. He urged them to an immediate armed revolt. Some one's voice called out: "Comrades this man's a provocateur!" There was a commotion. The provocateur shouted something in his defence. He was promptly jostled out. Then Stchemilov spoke; he was followed by the invited orator. Elisaveta's agitation grew.
You admit the need of an autocracy, but only wish to shift it to another centre? In what way is this an improvement?" Stchemilov answered quite simply: "You masters and possessors do not wish to give us anything neither a fraction of an ounce of power nor of possessions; what's left for us to do?" "What's your immediate object?" put in Rameyev.
"Tell me what it is," answered Elisaveta calmly. "We are expecting some comrades from Rouban within the next few days. They are coming to talk things over," said Stchemilov; "but of course you know all that." "Yes, I know," said Elisaveta. "We want to use the occasion," went on Stchemilov, "to organize a mass meeting not far from here for our town factory folk.
You insist too strongly on your class interests, and therefore freedom is no such great lure to you. But we Russian constitutionalists are carrying on the struggle for freedom almost alone." Stchemilov listened to him and made an effort to suppress an ironic smile. "It's true," he said, "we won't join hands with you.
Then he paused because Elisaveta was laughing. "Well, who would have thought it comrade Elisaveta?" "You didn't recognize me, comrade?" asked Elisaveta with a merry laugh, as she approached the landing-place where Stchemilov was already fastening his boat. "I must confess that I didn't know you at once," he replied, as he pressed her hand warmly. "I have come for you.
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