The mother saw their gloomy faces, their frowning brows,
their eyes, and felt their warm breath on her face.
"Get up on the bench," they said.
"I'll be arrested immediately. It's not necessary."
"Speak quicker! They're coming!"
"Go to meet the honest people. Seek those who advise all the poor
disinherited. Don't be reconciled, comrades, don't! Don't yield
to the power of the powerful. Arise, you working people! you are
the masters of life! All live by your labor; and only for your
labor do they untie your hands. Behold! you are bound, and they
have killed, robbed your soul. Unite with your heart and your mind
into one power. It will overcome everything. You have no friends
except yourselves. That's what their only friends say to the working
people, their friends who go to them and perish on the road to
prison. Not so would dishonest people speak, not so deceivers."
"Out of the way! Disperse!" the shouts of the gendarmes came nearer
and nearer. There were more of them already; they pushed more
forcibly; and the people in front of the mother swayed, catching
hold of one another.
"Is that all you have in the valise?" whispered somebody.
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