It was asserted that Trirodov and others were collecting money for an armed revolt. At this they looked significantly at Voronok. Voronok retorted, but he was not heard. There was an outburst of malignant remarks against Trirodov. It was said that there was a secret underground printing establishment in Trirodov’s house, and that not only the instructresses worked there but also Trirodov’s young wards. The women exclaimed in horror: “They are mere tots!” “What do you think of your tots now?” “There are no children nowadays.” “I’ve just heard,” said Voronok, “that a nine-year-old boy is kept in confinement by the police.” “The young rebel!” said the Vice-Governor savagely. “Yes, and I’ve also heard,” said Poterin, “that a thirteen-year-old boy has been arrested. Such a little beggar, and already in revolt.” The Vice-Governor said morosely: “He’s going with his grandfather to Siberia.” “Why?” asked Voronok with a flushed face. “He laughed,” growled the Vice-Governor morosely. Doulebov turned to Poterin and asked in a loud voice: “And I hope you have no rebels in your school.” “No, thank God, I have nothing of that kind,” replied Poterin. “But, to tell the truth, the children are very loose nowadays.” Doulebov, with a patronizing amiableness, said again to him: “You have a good school. Everything is in exemplary order.” Poterin grew radiant and boasted: “Yes, I know how to pull them up. I treat them sternly.” “A salutary sternness,” said Doulebov. Encouraged by these words, the instructor-inspector asked: “Do you think one might also beat them?” Doulebov avoided a direct answer. He wiped his face with his hand--like a cat using its paw--and changed the subject. They began touching recollections about the good old times. They began to relate how, where, and whom they birched. “They birch even now,” said Shabalov with a quiet joy. CHAPTER XXXI After luncheon they went into the assembly room. Some of them began to smoke. Instructor Mouralov’s wife took advantage of an opportune moment to speak to Doulebova. She cautiously stole up to her when she saw her standing aside and told her that Poterin took bribes. Separate phrases and words were distinguished from the rest of the conversation. “Have you noticed, Zinaida Grigorievna?” “What’s that?” “Our inspector is parading in gloves.” “Yes?” “Gloves! Yellow ones!” “What of that?” “Out of bribes.” Zinaida Grigorievna was overjoyed, and grew animated. For a long time the whispers of the malicious women were audible, and between their whispers their hissing, snake-like laughter. Then the women, together with Shabalov and Voronok, went off to finish the examination. Doulebov and the Vice-Governor went in to look at the library. Poterin accompanied them. Everything was in order. The thick volumes of Katkov[32] quietly slumbered; the dust had been wiped from them on the eve of the Vice-Governor’s visit.