"And what did she say?" asked Steinmetz.
"That she would not leave unless we all went with her."
Steinmetz drew the furs closer up round him.
"Yes," he said, glancing at his companion's face, and seeing little but
the eyes, by reason of the sable collar of his coat, which met the fur
of his cap; "yes, and why not?"
"I cannot leave them," answered Paul. "I cannot go away now that there
is trouble among them. What it is, goodness only knows! They would never
have got like this by themselves. Somebody has been at them, and I don't
think it is the Nihilists. It is worse than that. Some devil has been
stirring them up, and they know no better. He is still at it. They are
getting worse day by day, and I cannot catch him. If I do, by God!
Steinmetz, I'll twist his neck."
Steinmetz smiled grimly.
"Yes," he answered, "you are capable of it. For me, I am getting tired
of the moujik. He is an inveterate, incurable fool. If he is going to be
a dangerous fool as well, I should almost be inclined to let him go to
the devil in his own way."
"I dare say; but you are not in my position."
"No; that is true, Pavlo. They were not my father's serfs. Generations
of my ancestors have not saved generations of their ancestors from
starvation. My fathers before me have not toiled and slaved and
legislated for them.
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