"
"How is that? Why should they?" the mother cried in alarm.
"It's very plain, granny," said Yegor Ivanovich softly. "Sometimes
even gendarmes reason correctly. Just think! Pavel was, and there
were books and there were papers; Pavel is not, and no books and no
papers! Ergo, it was Pavel who distributed these books! Aha! Then
they'll begin to eat them all alive. Those gendarmes dearly love so
to unman a man that what remains of him is only a shred of himself,
and a touching memory."
"I see, I see," said the mother dejectedly. "O God! What's to be
done, then?"
"They have trapped them all, the devil take them!" came Samoylov's
voice from the kitchen. "Now we must continue our work the same as
before, and not only for the cause itself, but also to save our comrades!"
"And there is no one to do the work," added Yegor, smiling. "We
have first-rate literature. I saw to that myself. But how to get
it into the factory, that's the question!"
"They search everybody at the gates now," said Samoylov.
The mother divined that something was expected of her. She understood
that she could be useful to her son, and she hastened to ask:
"Well, now? What are we to do?"
Samoylov stood in the doorway to answer.
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