“I cannot see that which does not exist.”

“How can you say it does not exist when a man risks a terrible death?”

“I think,” said Novodvoroff, “that if we wish to serve our cause effectively it is necessary that we stop dreaming and look at things as they are.  We must do everything for the masses, and expect nothing from them.  The masses are the object of our activity, but they cannot be our collaborators while they are as inert as they are now.  And it is, therefore, perfectly illusive to expect aid from them before they have gone through the process of development—­that process of development for which we are preparing them.”

“What process of development?” said Kryltzoff, becoming red in the face.  “We say that we are against the use of force, but is this not force in its worst form?”

“There is no force here,” calmly said Novodvoroff.  “I only said that I know the path the people must follow, and can point it out.”

“But how do you know that yours is the right path?  Is it not the same despotism which gave rise to the Inquisition and the executions of the Great Revolution?  They, too, knew the only scientific path.”

“The fact that people erred does not prove that I am erring.  Besides, there is a great difference between the ravings of ideologists and the data of positive economic science.”

Novodvoroff’s voice filled the entire cell.  He alone was speaking; all the others were silent.

“Those eternal discussions!” said Maria Pablovna at a momentary lull.

“And what do you think of it?” Nekhludoff asked Maria Pablovna.

“I think that Anatolie is right—­that we have no right to force our ideas on the people.”

“That is a strange conception of our ideas,” said Novodvoroff, and he began to smoke angrily.

“I cannot talk to them,” Kryltzoff said in a whisper, and became silent.

“And it is much better not to talk,” said Nekhludoff.

CHAPTER VI.

An officer entered the cell and announced that the time for departing had arrived.  He counted every prisoner, pointing at every one with his finger.  When he reached Nekhludoff he said, familiarly: 

“It is too late to remain now, Prince; it is time to go.”

Nekhludoff, knowing what that meant, approached him and thrust three rubles into his hand.

“Nothing can be done with you—­stay here a while longer.”

Simonson, who was all the while silently sitting on his bunk, his hands clasped behind his head, firmly arose, and carefully making his way through those sitting around the bunk, went over to Nekhludoff.

“Can you hear me now?” asked Simonson.

“Certainly,” said Nekhludoff, also rising to follow him.

Maslova saw Nekhludoff rising, and their eyes meeting, she turned red in the face and doubtfully, as it seemed, shook her head.