before he knew what had happened. Yes, on the bridge! wisely done!"
At this stage it was utterly impossible to come to any decision; both a fool and wise!
II.
THE FIRST CONSEQUENCES OF THE FOOL'S DEED.
On that very same morning, about twelve o'clock, a young woman was sitting in one of the three rooms of a small datcha on the Kamennoï Ostrof (Stone Island); she was sewing, and singing in an undertone a little French song full of spirit and courage. "We are poor," said the song, "but we are working people; we have strong hands. We are obscure, but we are not dull, and we want light. Let us learn; knowledge will give us freedom. Let us be industrious; industry will give us wealth. This will go on; if we live, we shall see it.
Ça ira,
Qui vivra verra.
We are rough, but from our roughness 'tis only we ourselves who are the losers. We are full of prejudices, but we ourselves suffer from them; this we feel. Let us look for happiness, let us find humanity, we shall be good; this will go on; if we live, we shall see it.
"Industry without knowledge is fruitless; our own happiness is impossible without the happiness of others. As soon as we become enlightened we shall become rich; we shall he happy; we shall form one brotherhood and sisterhood; this will go on; if we live, we shall see it.
"Let us learn and be industrious; let us sing and love; we shall have a heaven on earth! Let us be happy while we live; this will go on; it will soon come to pass; we shall all see it.
Donc, vivons,
Ça bien vite ira,
Ça viendra,
Nous tons le verrons!"
Courageous, spirited, was the song, and its melody was joyous. There were two or three melancholy notes in it, but they were concealed by the generally light character of the motive; they vanished in the refrain, they vanished in the
