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There are other people there yet, some seven young men and a girl. Never mind! They're all reliable." "How did you find this place?" The mother smiled. The door from the room opened quietly. "I?" Seating himself on a bench and looking around, Ignaty exclaimed: "They crawled up at night, straight to the tar works. Well, a minute before they came the forester ran up to us and knocked on the window.
'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.
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.
"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?"
He bought her a gold wash basin with my blood." "Man is created in the image of God," said Yefim, smiling. "And that's the use to which they put the image. Fine!" "Well, then don't be silent!" exclaimed Rybin, striking his palm on the table. "Don't suffer it," added Yakob softly. Ignaty laughed.
Five times in the day you laugh and five times you weep. All right. Well, are you through, Ignaty? Go to bed and sleep." "But I don't want to." "Go on, go on!" "You're stern in this place. Thank you for the tea, for the sugar, for the kindness." Lying down in the mother's bed he mumbled, scratching his head: "Now everything'll smell of tar in your place.
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.
When the mother had concluded her short account, all were silent for a moment, looking at one another. Ignaty, sitting at the table, drew a pattern with his nails on the boards. Yefim stood behind Rybin, resting his elbows on his shoulders. Yakob leaned against the trunk of a tree, his hands folded over his chest, his head inclined. Sofya observed the peasants from the corner of her eye.
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.
"All right!" said Ignaty. But his consent was not given at once, and then only reluctantly. "And for you we'll obtain a good passport and make you a forester." The young fellow quickly threw back his head and asked uneasily: "But if the peasants come there for wood, or there in general what'll I do? Bind them? That doesn't suit me." The mother laughed, and Nikolay, too.
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