“Well, then, what are you willing to rent the land at?” asked Nekhludoff.
“How can we fix a price? We cannot do it. The land is yours, and the power is in your hands,” answered some voices from among the crowd.
“Oh, not at all. You will yourselves have the use of the money for communal purposes.”
“We cannot do it; the commune is one thing, and this is another.”
“Don’t you understand?” said the foreman, with a smile (he had followed Nekhludoff to the meeting), “the Prince is letting the land to you for money, and is giving you the money back to form a capital for the commune.”
“We understand very well,” said a cross, toothless old man, without raising his eyes. “Something like a bank; we should have to pay at a fixed time. We do not wish it; it is hard enough as it is, and that would ruin us completely.”
“That’s no go. We prefer to go on the old way,” began several dissatisfied, and even rude, voices.
The refusals grew very vehement when Nekhludoff mentioned that he would draw up an agreement which would have to be signed by him and by them.
“Why sign? We shall go on working as we have done hitherto. What is all this for? We are ignorant men.”
“We can’t agree, because this sort of thing is not what we have been used to. As it was, so let it continue to be. Only the seeds we should like to withdraw.”