It seemed
to her that they were burying, not Yegor, but something else unknown
and incomprehensible to her.
At the cemetery the procession for a long time moved in and out
along the narrow paths amid the tombs until an open space was
reached, which was sprinkled with wretched little crosses. The
people gathered about the graves in silence. This austere silence
of the living among the dead promised something strange, which
caused the mother's heart to tremble and sink with expectation.
The wind whistled and sighed among the graves. The flowers trembled
on the lid of the coffin.
The police, stretching out in a line, assumed an attitude of guard,
their eyes on their captain. A tall, long-haired, black-browed,
pale young man without a hat stood over the fresh grave. At the
same time the hoarse voice of the captain was heard:
"Ladies and gentlemen!"
"Comrades!" began the black-browed man sonorously.
"Permit me!" shouted the police captain. "In pursuance of the order
of the chief of police I announce to you that I cannot permit a speech!"
"I will say only a few words," the young man said calmly. "Comrades!
Over the grave of our teacher and friend let us vow in silence never
to forget his will; let each one of us continue without ceasing to
dig the grave for the source of our country's misfortune, the evil
power that crushes it--the autocracy!"
"Arrest him!" shouted the police captain.
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