She speaks truth--why did
we forsake our children? What harm have they done us?"
The mother trembled at these words and replied with tears.
"Go home, Nilovna! Go, mother! You're all worn out," said Sizov loudly.
He was pale, his disheveled beard shook. Suddenly knitting his
brows he threw a stern glance about him on all, drew himself up to
his full height, and said distinctly:
"My son Matvey was crushed in the factory. You know it! But were
he alive, I myself would have sent him into the lines of those--
along with them. I myself would have told him: 'Go you, too,
Matvey! That's the right cause, that's the honest cause!'"
He stopped abruptly, and a sullen silence fell on all, in the
powerful grip of something huge and new, but something that no
longer frightened them. Sizov lifted his hand, shook it, and
continued:
"It's an old man who is speaking to you. You know me! I've been
working here thirty-nine years, and I've been alive fifty-three
years. To-day they've arrested my nephew, a pure and intelligent
boy. He, too, was in the front, side by side with Vlasov; right at
the banner." Sizov made a motion with his hand, shrank together,
and said as he took the mother's hand: "This woman spoke the truth.
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