"No, this is not a question which allows of a _but_," Verhovensky interrupted harshly and peremptorily. "I tell you, gentlemen, I must have a direct answer. I quite understand that, having come here and having called you together myself, I am bound to give you explanations" (again an unexpected revelation), "but I can give you none till I know what is your attitude to the subject. To cut the matter short--for we can't go on talking for another thirty years as people have done for the last thirty--I ask you which you prefer: the slow way, which consists in the composition of socialistic romances and the academic ordering of the destinies of humanity a thousand years hence, while despotism will swallow the savoury morsels which would almost fly into your mouths of themselves if you'd take a little trouble; or do you, whatever it may imply, prefer a quicker way which will at last untie your hands, and will let humanity make its own social organisation in freedom and in action, not on paper? They shout 'a hundred million heads'; that may be only a metaphor; but why be afraid of it if, with the slow day-dream on paper, despotism in the course of some hundred years will devour not a hundred but five hundred million heads? Take note too that an incurable invalid will not be cured whatever prescriptions are written for him on paper. On the contrary, if there is delay, he will grow so corrupt that he will infect us too and contaminate all the fresh forces which one might still reckon upon now, so that we shall all at last come to grief together. I thoroughly agree that it's extremely agreeable to chatter liberally and eloquently, but action is a little trying.... However, I am no hand at talking; I came here with communications, and so I beg all the honourable company not to vote, but simply and directly to state which you prefer: walking at a snail's pace in the marsh, or putting on full steam to get across it?" "I am certainly for crossing at full steam!" cried the schoolboy in an ecstasy. "So am I," Lyamshin chimed in. "There can be no doubt about the choice," muttered an officer, followed by another, then by someone else. What struck them all most was that Verhovensky had come "with communications" and had himself just promised to speak. "Gentlemen, I see that almost all decide for the policy of the manifestoes," he said, looking round at the company. "All, all!" cried the majority of voices. "I confess I am rather in favour of a more humane policy," said the major, "but as all are on the other side, I go with all the rest." "It appears, then, that even you are not opposed to it," said Verhovensky, addressing the lame man. "I am not exactly..." said the latter, turning rather red, "but if I do agree with the rest now, it's simply not to break up--"