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.

"Tell him now," he said.

"Little brother," said Kwitoff, and he rose from beside the flame and stood erect, for he was tall, "will you give your life?"

"What for?" asked Serge.

The brothers shook their heads.

"We cannot tell you that," they said. "That would be too much. Will you join us?"

"In what?" asked Serge.

"We must not say," said the brothers. "We can only ask are you willing to help our enterprise with all your power and with your life if need be?"

"What is your enterprise?" asked Serge.

"We must not divulge it," they said. "Only this: will you give your life to save another life, to save Russia?"

Serge paused. He thought of Olga Ileyitch. Only to save her life would he have given his.

"I cannot," he answered.

"Good night, little brother," said Kwitoff gently, and he turned back to his work.

Thus the months passed.

Serge studied without ceasing. "If there is truth," he thought, "I shall find it." All the time he Thought of Olga Ileyitch. His face grew pale. "Justice, Justice," he thought, "what is justice and truth?"

Chapter III