The crowd, giving way, still maintained silence. The mother, in impotent grief, bowed her head; one of the peasants sighed. Rybin spoke again:
"There! Look, good people!"
"Silence!" and the sergeant struck his face.
Rybin reeled.
"They bind a man's hands and then torment him, and do with him whatever they please."
"Policemen, take him! Disperse, people!" The sergeant, jumping and swinging in front of Rybin, struck him in his face, breast, and stomach.
"Don't beat him!" some one shouted dully.
"Why do you beat him?" another voice upheld the first.
"Lazy, good-for-nothing beast!"
"Come!" said the blue-eyed peasant, motioning with his head; and without hastening, the two walked toward the town hall, accompanied by a kind look from the mother. She sighed with relief. The sergeant again ran heavily up the steps, and shaking his fists in menace, bawled from his height vehemently: