tly and
decisively, his voice grew gruffer and gruffer, and his bearded face
reddened as with the strain of exertion. "Now, then, the masters write
the books and distribute them. But the writings in the books are
against these very masters. Now, tell me, why do they spend their
money and their time to stir up the people against themselves? Eh?"

Nilovna blinked, then opened her eyes wide and exclaimed in fright:

"What do you think? Tell me."

"Aha!" exclaimed Rybin, turning in his chair like a bear. "There you
are! When I reached that thought I was seized with a cold shiver, too."

"Now what is it? Tell me! Did you find out anything?"

"Deception! Fraud! I feel it. It's deception. I know nothing, but I
feel sure there's deception in it. Yes! The masters are up to some
clever trick, and I want nothing of it. I want the truth. I understand
what it is; I understand it. But I will not go hand in hand with the
masters. They'll push me to the front when it suits them, and then
walk over my bones as over a bridge to get where they want to."

At the sound of his morose words, uttered in a stubborn, thick, and
forceful voice, the mother's heart contracted in pain.

"Good Lord!" she exclaimed in anguish. "Where is the truth? Can it be
that Pavel does not understand? And all those who come here from the
city--is it possible that they don't understand?" The serious, honest
faces of Yegor, Nikolay Ivanovich, and Sashenka passed before her mind,
and her heart fluttered.

"No, no!" she said, shaking her head as if to dismiss the thought. "I
can't believe it. They are for truth and honor and conscience; they
have no evil designs; oh, no!"

"Whom are you talking about?" asked Rybin thoughtfully.

"About all of them! Every single one I met. They are not the people
who will traffic in human blood, oh, no!" Perspiration burst out on
her face, and her fingers trembled.

"You are not looking in the right place, mother; look farther back,"
said Rybin, drooping his head. "Those who are directly working in the
movement may not know anything about it themselves. They think it must
be so; they have the truth at heart. But there may be people behind
them who are looking out only for their own selfish interests. Men
won't go against themselves." And with the firm conviction of a
peasant fed on centuries of distrust, he added: "No good will ever
come from the masters! Take my word for it!"

"What conco