'" Sofya's low but powerful voice rang with assurance. "And
then the fantastic power of those who are mighty by their greed will
crumble; the earth will vanish from under their feet, and their
support will be gone."
"That's how it will be," said Rybin, bending his head. "Don't pity
yourselves, and you will conquer everything."
The men listened in silence, motionless, endeavoring in no way to
break the even flow of the narrative, fearing to cut the bright
thread that bound them to the world. Only occasionally some one
would carefully put a piece of wood in the fire, and when a stream
of sparks and smoke rose from the pile he would drive them away from
the woman with a wave of his hand.
Once Yakob rose and said:
"Wait a moment, please." He ran into the shack and brought out
wraps. With Ignaty's help he folded them about the shoulders and
feet of the women.
And again Sofya spoke, picturing the day of victory, inspiring
people with faith in their power, arousing in them a consciousness
of their oneness with all who give away their lives to barren toil
for the amusement of the satiated.
At break of dawn, exhausted, she grew silent, and smiling she looked
around at the thoughtful, illumined faces.
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