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Some there were who looked at her with a vindictive expression, among them Isay Gorbov, who, speaking through his teeth, said: "If I were the governor, I would have your son hanged! Let him not mislead the people!" This vicious threat went through her like the chill blast of death. She made no reply, glanced at his small, freckled face, and with a sigh cast down her eyes.
Isay came from around a corner and stopped to look at us, and smiled at us. Ivan walked off home, and I went on toward the factory Isay at my side!" Andrey stopped, heaved a deep sigh, and continued: "No one ever insulted me in such an ugly way as that dog!" The mother pulled the Little Russian by the hand toward the table, gave him a shove, and finally succeeded in seating him on a chair.
Pavel raised his head and looked at him with a pale face and wide-open eyes. The mother raised herself a little over the table with a feeling that something great was growing and impending. "What is the matter with you, Andrey?" Pavel asked softly. The Little Russian shook his head, stretched himself like a violin string, and said, looking at the mother: "I struck Isay."
The joiner's foreman, Vavilov, and the record clerk, Isay, walked slowly past the mother. The little, wizened clerk, throwing up his head and turning his neck to the left, looked at the frowning face of the foreman, and said quickly, shaking his reddish beard: "They laugh, Ivan Ivanovich. It's fun to them.
He got ready in silence and walked off, sullen and low-spirited. The mother followed him with a compassionate look. "Say what you please, Pasha, I cannot believe him! And even if I did believe him, I wouldn't lay any blame on him. No, I would not. I know it's sinful to kill a man; I believe in God and in the Lord Jesus Christ, but still I don't think Andrey guilty. I'm sorry for Isay.
The dangerous thoughts about murder left her. If Vyesovshchikov had not killed Isay, none of Pavel's comrades could have done the deed. Pavel listened to the Little Russian with drooping head, and Andrey stubbornly continued in a forceful tone: "In your forward march it sometimes chances that you must go against your very own self. You must be able to give up everything your heart and all.
'That's a good horse, said Isay, with a shrewd glance at Mukhorty, and with a practised hand he tightened the loosened knot high in the horse's bushy tail. 'Are you going to stay the night? 'No, friend. I must get on. 'Your business must be pressing. And who is this? Ah, Nikita Stepanych! 'Who else? replied Nikita. 'But I say, good friend, how are we to avoid going astray again?
"Well, yes-if you wont talk anything but shop I s'pose I must come to the p'int. Isay! you don't keep any thing to drink 'bout yer, do ye-Jake?" "14 from 23 are 9-I'll get you something when we get done. Please explain how we can serve one another." "Jake, I done everything for you, and you ain't done nothin' for me since I died.
This lightened her mute pain, which reverberated in her heart like a tight chord. The next day, early in the morning, very soon after Pavel and Andrey had left, Korsunova knocked at the door alarmingly, and called out hastily: "Isay is killed! Come, quick!" The mother trembled; the name of the assassin flashed through her mind. "Who did it?" she asked curtly, throwing a shawl over her shoulders.
"That's what Isay, the record clerk, once said about us!" the mother said. For a while the two were silent. "Isay?" "Yes, he's a bad man. He spies after everybody, fishes about everywhere for information. He has begun to frequent this street, and peers into our windows." "Peers into your windows?" The mother was already in bed and did not see his face.
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