Chapter 21 twenty one

Time flows eastward, life goes by day by day, and those are days of various kinds and faces. Every day, there is always something new, and this no longer makes my mother feel panicky. Every night, strangers frequently came and talked to Andrei anxiously and quietly. In the middle of the night, he just turned up his collar and pulled his hat down over his eyes, carefully and silently, in the dark. leave.From them, you can feel a suppressed excitement, as if, they all want to sing and laugh, but they don't have time, they are all busy. Some people are mocking and serious; Faith, everyone's face is different, but in the mother's eyes, it seems that all the faces are superimposed into one face: a thin, calm, resolute, and bright face, with deep, dark eyes in the black eyes. Gentle and serious eyes, just like the eyes of Christ who went to Emmaus.

Mother counted their numbers and gathered them around Pavel in her mind—because among such a large group of people, Pavel was not particularly conspicuous in the eyes of the enemy. Once, a lively girl with curly hair came from the city.She brought a roll and handed it to Andre.On her way back, she said to Vlasova with twinkling eyes of joy: "Goodbye, comrade!" "Goodbye!" Mom replied with a smile. After sending her out, the mother approached the window, looked at her comrades with a smile on her face, and moved her small feet very nimbly. Walking on the road, she was as fresh as a spring flower and as light as a butterfly.

"Comrade!" said the mother, when the female guest was out of sight. "Lovely girl! May God give you a comrade who will be faithful to you all your life! " From the people who came from the city, my mother often found a childlike temperament, so she always smiled generously.But what surprised and delighted her, and moved her, was their faith.She felt more and more clearly the depth of this belief, and their dream of the victory of justice comforted and warmed her. Listening to their words, the mother often couldn't help feeling a kind of inexplicable sadness, so she sighed .But it was their frankness, their graceful disinterestedness, which struck her especially.

Now, my mother knew a lot about the life problems they talked about. She felt that they had indeed discovered the real cause of human misery, and she habitually agreed with them.But, in the depths of their souls, it was still impossible to believe that they could reform life in their own way, that they were powerful enough to move all the workers along.Everyone only cares about eating enough for today. If there is a meal in front of them, no one wants to put it off until tomorrow.There are not many people who take this long and difficult road, and even fewer people can see the mythical kingdom where people are like brothers at the end of this road.It was for this reason that these good people, despite their beards and sometimes haggard faces, looked to the mother like children.

"My dear people!" she thought, shaking her head. But all of them were living good, serious, intelligent lives, talking about good things, willing to teach others what they knew, and doing it with all their might.She felt that although this kind of life was dangerous, it was still worthy of love. She sighed and looked back, her past was like a long and narrow dark belt, dragging flatly behind her. In her mind, unconsciously, a steady consciousness had formed--a sense that she was a useful person for her new life.Before, she had never felt that she was useful to anyone, but now she saw clearly that she was useful to many people.It was something new and enjoyable and something that would hold her head up...

She always took the leaflets to the factory on time.She made it her duty, so she became a familiar figure to the spies and was watched by them.She was searched many times, but each time the leaflets were found in the factory the day after. When she brought nothing into the factory, she learned to deliberately arouse the suspicion of the spies and gatekeepers. They seized her and searched her all over. She pretended to be angry and quarreled with them, so, Humiliate them once and walk away, proud of your skillful tricks.She likes this game very much. Nikolay became a laborer for a wood merchant because he was no longer wanted at the factory.

He carried beams, planks, and chopping firewood in the workers' quarters.My mother saw him almost every day; two old thin black horses were strenuously supporting their trembling legs on the ground, their heads shook wearily and sadly, their cloudy eyes blinked wearily, they trembled Pull a cart of long wet logs, or a cart of planks that rattle at one end.Nicholas was next to the car, with the reins down, and followed step by step. He was wearing dirty and torn clothes and heavy boots, with his hat pushed back on the back of his head--that look, as if he came out of the dirt. It looked like a section of tree root dug out.He looked at his feet and shook his head too.

His horse often rammed people and carts on the other side, and around him, swearing followed like wasps, and vicious shouts cut the air. He always walked on without looking up, whistling sharply, and muttering to the horse in a dull voice: "Hey, be careful!" Every time when the comrades gathered at Andrey's to read the latest foreign papers or books, Nicholas also attended. He would always sit in a corner and listen in silence for an hour or two.After reading, the young people always argued endlessly, but Nicholas never took part in the debate.He stayed longer than everyone else, and only when he and Andrey were left alone did he ask a gloomy question:

"Who is the worst?" "The first person to say 'it's mine' is the worst! However, this person has died thousands of years ago, so we can't get angry with him anymore!" Hohol said jokingly Said, but his eyes flashed with uneasy light. "And—what about the rich? What about their accomplices?" Huo Hol grabbed his hair and tugged at his beard.In simple and plain words, he talked for a long time about the truth about people and life.However, in his words, it seems that everyone is not good.Nikolai was not too pleased with this view.He pursed his thick lips tightly, shook his head negatively, expressed his disagreement distrustfully, and then, sullenly and dissatisfied, walked out of the room.

On one occasion he said: "No, there must be villains,—there must be! I tell you—we'll have to hoe all our lives, like a field overgrown with weeds,—without mercy!" "That's right, Isa, the attendance officer, mentioned you once!" Mother recalled and told. "Issa?" After a moment of silence, Nicholas asked. "Hey, that's a bad guy! He's spying on big guys, eavesdropping everywhere, and he's been walking up and down this street a lot lately, peeping in our windows..." "Peeping?" Nikolai repeated. Mother was already lying on the bed, so she couldn't see his face, but she realized that she shouldn't have said such things to Nikolai, because Hohol said in a flustered, conciliatory voice:

Just let him walk around and peek!When he's free--of course he has to take a walk..." "No, wait!" said Nikolay angrily. "He's the bad guy!" "Why the bad guy?" Huo Hol asked immediately. "Because he's stupid?" Nikolay went out without answering him. Hohol paced the room slowly and wearily, his tiny spider-like feet screeching on the floor.He had taken off his boots, as he often did, so as not to disturb Vlassova's sleep.But the mother was not asleep at this time, and when Nikolai had gone she said in alarm: "I'm afraid of him!" "Yeah!" Huo Huoer said slowly and drawn out his voice. "He is a child who gets angry easily. Mom, you must never mention Isa to him in the future. That Isa is indeed a spy!" "What's so strange? His godfather is a gendarme!" said the mother. "Nicholas will probably kill him!" Hohol continued thoughtfully. "You see, what kind of feelings do the rulers of our lives develop towards their subordinates? When a man like Nicholas is humiliated and can't bear it--what will happen? Blood splattered in the air and foamed like soap on the ground..." "Very frightened, Andryusya!" whispered his mother. "If you don't eat flies, you won't vomit!" Andre said after a moment of silence. "In short, mother, every drop of their blood is caused by the tears of the people..." He suddenly added in a low voice: "It's the right thing to do—but it's no consolation!"