"Take it! Take all!" said the mother aloud, feeling that the words
disposed themselves into a song in her breast, and noticing with
pain that her voice did not hold out, that it was hoarse, trembled,
and broke.
"The word of my son is the honest word of a workingman, of an unsold
soul. You will recognize its incorruptibility by its boldness. It
is fearless, and if necessary it goes even against itself to meet
the truth. It goes to you, working people, incorruptible, wise,
fearless. Receive it with an open heart, feed on it; it will give
you the power to understand everything, to fight against everything
for the truth, for the freedom of mankind. Receive it, believe it,
go with it toward the happiness of all the people, to a new life
with great joy!"
She received a blow on the chest; she staggered and fell on the
bench. The gendarmes' hands darted over the heads of the people,
and seizing collars and shoulders, threw them aside, tore off hats,
flung them far away. Everything grew dark and began to whirl before
the eyes of the mother. But overcoming her fatigue, she again
shouted with the remnants of her power:
"People, gather up your forces into one single force!"
A large gendarme caught her collar with his red hand and shook her.
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