Now she was in the tail of the crowd among the people
who walked without hurrying, indifferent, looking ahead with the cold
curiosity of spectators who know beforehand how the show will end.
They spoke softly with confidence.
"One company of infantry is near the school, and the other near
the factory."
"The governor has come."
"Is that so?"
"I saw him myself. He's here."
Some one swore jovially and said:
"They've begun to fear our fellows, after all, haven't they? The
soldiers have come and the governor----"
"Dear boys!" throbbed in the breast of the mother. But the words
around her sounded dead and cold. She hastened her steps to get
away from these people, and it was not difficult for her to outstrip
their lurching gait.
Suddenly the head of the crowd, as it were, bumped against something;
its body swung backward with an alarming, low hum. The song trembled,
then flowed on more rapidly and louder; but again the dense wave of
sounds hesitated in its forward course. Voices fell out of the chorus
one after the other. Here and there a voice was raised in the effort
to bring the song to its previous height, to push it forward:
"Rise up, awake, you workingmen!
On, on, to war, you hungry hosts!"
Though she saw nothing and was ignorant of what was happening
there in front, the mother divined, and elbowed her way rapidly
through the crowd.
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