The
children, the best blood of man, the best there is of our hearts,
give up their liberty and their lives, perish without pity for
themselves! And I, a mother--am I to stand by and do nothing?"
The picture of her son marching at the head of the crowd with the
banner in his hands flashed before her mind.
"Why should I lie idle when my son gives up his life for the sake
of truth? I know now--I know that he is working for the truth.
It's the fifth year now that I live beside the woodpile. My heart
has melted and begun to burn. I understand what you are striving
for. I see what a burden you all carry on your shoulders. Take me
to you, too, for the sake of Christ, that I may be able to help
my son! Take me to you!"
Nikolay's face grew pale; he heaved a deep sigh, and smiling, said,
looking at her with sympathetic attention:
"This is the first time I've heard such words."
"What can I say?" she replied, shaking her head sadly, and spreading
her hands in a gesture of impotence. "If I had the words to express
my mother's heart--" She arose, lifted by the power that waxed in
her breast, intoxicated her, and gave her the words to express her
indignation.
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