And around the singers a crowd collected quietly, listening thoughtfully and seriously to the story of the past, with heads bowed to the ground. A dry warmth enfolded me and I saw curiosity light up the eyes of the men, and some one asked: "Won't he sing?" "He will. Wait." I had often heard these robber ballads, but I never knew whose were the words nor whose the soul mirrored there. But now all at once I understood. The ancient people spoke to me with a thousand tongues. "I pardon your great sins against me, man, for your small service." People still looked at me with, curiosity, and my spirit was aroused. The old man finished his song, and I arose and said: "Orthodox Christians, here you have heard about a robber who plundered and robbed the people, but, afterwards, his conscience troubling him, he went away to save his soul, wishing to serve the people with his great strength. And he served them. But to-day you are living among robbers who exploit you mercilessly, and in what way do they serve the people? What good do you see in them?" The crowd thickened around me, almost embracing me, and their attention made my words grow strong and gave them tone and beauty, and I lost myself in my words. I only felt a close alliance to the earth and to the people. They lifted me up towards themselves, drawing me on by their silence: "Speak; speak the whole truth as you see it!" Of course a policeman arrived and cried: "Move on!" asking what was the matter and demanding my passport. The people melted quietly away, like a cloud in the sun, and the policeman questioned and made inquiries as to what I said. Some answered: "About God; about many things; mainly about God." I saw a workingman standing apart. He leaned up against his wagon and gazed steadily at me, smiling tenderly. The policeman had taken hold of my collar, and I wanted to shake him off, but I saw that the people looked sideways at me, with half-closed eyes, as if they were asking: "Now, what are you going to say?" I paled at their lack of faith. Conquering myself in time, I shook off the hand of the policeman and said to him: "Do you want to know what I said?" And again I began to speak about injustice in life. Again the market people gathered around me in great crowds, and the policeman was lost in them and effaced. I recalled Kostia and the factory children, and I felt proud and happy. I became strong and as in a dream. The policeman whispered, many faces passed before me, many eyes burned; a warm cloud of people were around me, pushed me along, and I lay lightly among them. Some one took me by the shoulder and whispered in my ear: "Enough. Go." They pushed and pushed me, and soon I found myself in a kind of court, and a black-bearded man was on one side of me and on the other a young boy with no cap on his head. The dark man said: "Climb over the wall." I climbed it, then went over another. It seemed to me queer, yet pleasant. "Eh," I thought, "is that who you are?"