“This case is perfectly revolting,” he said; “it is very likely that the owner himself set fire to the building in order to get the insurance money, and the chief thing is that there is no evidence to prove the Menshoffs’ guilt.  There are no proofs whatever.  It is all owing to the special zeal of the examining magistrate and the carelessness of the prosecutor.  If they are tried here, and not in a provincial court, I guarantee that they will be acquitted, and I shall charge nothing.  Now then, the next case, that of Theodosia Birukoff.  The appeal to the Emperor is written.  If you go to Petersburg, you’d better take it with you, and hand it in yourself, with a request of your own, or else they will only make a few inquiries, and nothing will come of it.  You must try and get at some of the influential members of the Appeal Committee.”

“Well, is this all?”

“No; here I have a letter . . .  I see you have turned into a pipe—­a spout through which all the complaints of the prison are poured,” said the advocate, with a smile.  “It is too much; you’ll not be able to manage it.”

“No, but this is a striking case,” said Nekhludoff, and gave a brief outline of the case of a peasant who began to read the Gospels to the peasants in the village, and to discuss them with his friends.  The priests regarded this as a crime and informed the authorities.  The magistrate examined him and the public prosecutor drew up an act of indictment, and the law courts committed him for trial.

“This is really too terrible,” Nekhludoff said.  “Can it be true?”

“What are you surprised at?”

“Why, everything.  I can understand the police-officer, who simply obeys orders, but the prosecutor drawing up an act of that kind.  An educated man . . .”

“That is where the mistake lies, that we are in the habit of considering that the prosecutors and the judges in general are some kind of liberal persons.  There was a time when they were such, but now it is quite different.  They are just officials, only troubled about pay-day.  They receive their salaries and want them increased, and there their principles end.  They will accuse, judge, and sentence any one you like.”

“Yes; but do laws really exist that can condemn a man to Siberia for reading the Bible with his friends?”

“Not only to be exiled to the less remote parts of Siberia, but even to the mines, if you can only prove that reading the Bible they took the liberty of explaining it to others not according to orders, and in this way condemned the explanations given by the Church.  Blaming the Greek orthodox religion in the presence of the common people means, according to Statute . . . the mines.”

“Impossible!”

“I assure you it is so.  I always tell these gentlemen, the judges,” the advocate continued, “that I cannot look at them without gratitude, because if I am not in prison, and you, and all of us, it is only owing to their kindness.  To deprive us of our privileges, and send us all to the less remote parts of Siberia, would be an easy thing for them.”