Pavel followed her into the yard.
A heavy oppressive fear fell like a load on the mother's breast.

She did not understand what they had been talking about, but she felt that a new misfortune was in store for her, a great and sad misfortune.

And her thoughts halted at the question, "What does he want to do ?" Her thoughts halted, and were driven into her brain like a nail.

She stood in the kitchen by the oven, and looked through the window into the profound, starry heaven.
Pavel walked in from the yard with Andrey, and the Little Russian said, shaking his head: "Oh, Isay, Isay! What's to be done with him ?" "We must advise him to give up his project," said Pavel glumly.
"Then he'll hand over those who speak to him to the authorities," said the Little Russian, flinging his hat away in a corner.
"Pasha, what do you want to do ?" asked the mother, drooping her head.
"When?
Now ?" "The first of May--the first of May." "Aha!" exclaimed Pavel, lowering his voice.

"You heard! I am going to carry our banner.