The brothers were pale, with long hair.  They had deep-set eyes.  They had but little money.  Madame Vasselitch gave them food.  “Eat, little sons,” she would say.  “You must not die.”

The brothers worked all day.  They were real students.  One brother was Halfoff.  He was taller than the other and stronger.  The other brother was Kwitoff.  He was not so tall as Halfoff and not so strong.

One day Serge went to the room of the brothers.  The brothers were at work.  Halfoff sat at a table.  There was a book in front of him.

“What is it?” asked Serge.

“It is solid geometry,” said Halfoff, and there was a gleam in his eyes.

“Why do you study it?” said Serge.

“To free Russia,” said Halfoff.

“And what book have you?” said Serge to Kwitoff.

“Hamblin Smith’s Elementary Trigonometry,” said Kwitoff, and he quivered like a leaf.

“What does it teach?” asked Serge.

“Freedom!” said Kwitoff.

The two brothers looked at one another.

“Shall we tell him everything?” said Halfoff.

“Not yet,” said Kwitoff.  “Let him learn first.  Later he shall know.”

After that Serge often came to the room of the two brothers.

The two brothers gave him books.  “Read them,” they said.

“What are they?” asked Serge.

“They are in English,” said Kwitoff.  “They are forbidden books.  They are not allowed in Russia.  But in them is truth and freedom.”

“Give me one,” said Serge.

“Take this,” said Kwitoff.  “Carry it under your cloak.  Let no one see it.”

“What is it?” asked Serge, trembling in spite of himself.

“It is Caldwell’s Pragmatism,” said the brothers.

“Is it forbidden?” asked Serge.

The brothers looked at him.

“It is death to read it,” they said.

After that Serge came each day and got books from Halfoff and Kwitoff.  At night he read them.  They fired his brain.  All of them were forbidden books.  No one in Russia might read them.  Serge read Hamblin Smith’s Algebra.  He read it all through from cover to cover feverishly.  He read Murray’s Calculus.  It set his brain on fire.  “Can this be true?” he asked.

The books opened a new world to Serge.

The brothers often watched him as he read.

“Shall we tell him everything?” said Halfoff.

“Not yet.” said Kwitoff.  “He is not ready.”

One night Serge went to the room of the two brothers.  They were not working at their books.  Littered about the room were blacksmith’s tools and wires, and pieces of metal lying on the floor.  There was a crucible and underneath it a blue fire that burned fiercely.  Beside it the brothers worked.  Serge could see their faces in the light of the flame.

“Shall we tell him now?” said Kwitoff.  The other brother nodded.