d the angry question, and the people pushed her, but she would
not stop, thrusting the crowd aside with her shoulders and elbows. She
slowly forced her way nearer to her son, yielding to the desire to
stand by his side. When Pavel had thrown out the word to which he was
wont to attach a deep and significant meaning, his throat contracted in
a sharp spasm of the joy of fight. He was seized with an invincible
desire to give himself up to the strength of his faith; to throw his
heart to the people. His heart kindled with the dream of truth.

"Comrades!" he repeated, extracting power and rapture from the word.
"We are the people who build churches and factories, forge chains and
coin money, make toys and machines. We are that living force which
feeds and amuses the world from the cradle to the grave."

"There!" Rybin exclaimed.

"Always and everywhere we are first in work but last in life. Who
cares for us? Who wishes us good? Who regards us as human beings? No
one!"

"No one!" echoed from the crowd.

Pavel, mastering himself, began to talk more simply and calmly; the
crowd slowly drew about him, blending into one dark, thick,
thousand-headed body. It looked into his face with hundreds of
attentive eyes; it sucked in his words in silent, strained attention.

"We will not attain to a better life until we feel ourselves as
comrades, as one family of friends firmly bound together by one
desire--the desire to fight for our rights."

"Get down to business!" somebody standing near the mother shouted
rudely.

"Don't interrupt!" "Shut up!" The two muffled exclamations were heard
in different places. The soot-covered faces frowned in sulky
incredulity; scores of eyes looked into Pavel's face thoughtfully and
seriously.

"A socialist, but no fool!" somebody observed.

"I say, he does speak boldly!" said a tall, crippled workingman,
tapping the mother on the shoulder.

"It is time, comrades, to take a stand against the greedy power that
lives by our labor. It is time to defend ourselves; we must all
understand that no one except ourselves will help us. One for all and
all for one--this is our law, if we want to crush the foe!"

"He's right, boys!" Makhotin shouted. "Listen to the truth!" And,
with a broad sweep of his arm, he shook his fist in the air.

"We must call out the manager at once," said Pavel. "We must ask him."

As if struck by a tornado, the crowd rocked to and fro; scores of
voices shou