Her legs trembled, and with quivering lips she cried: "Oh, my dear boys, that's true.

There you are now----" A broad smile spread over Nikolay's pockmarked face; he stared at the flag and, stretching his hand toward it, roared out something; then caught the mother around the neck with the same hand, kissed her, and laughed.
"Comrades!" sang out the Little Russian, subduing the noise of the crowd with his mellow voice.

"Comrades! We have now started a holy procession in the name of the new God, the God of Truth and Light, the God of Reason and Goodness.

We march in this holy procession, comrades, over a long and hard road.

Our goal is far, far away, and the crown of thorns is near! Those who don't believe in the might of truth, who have not the courage to stand up for it even unto death, who do not believe in themselves and are afraid of suffering--such of you, step aside! We call upon those only who believe in our triumph.