With some effort Nekhludoff began his speech by declaring that he
intended to surrender the land to them. The peasants were silent, and
there was no change in the expression of their faces.

"Because I consider," said Nekhludoff, blushing, "that every man ought
to have the right to use the land."

"Why, certainly." "That is quite right," voices of peasants were
heard.

Nekhludoff continued, saying that the income from the land should be
distributed among all, and he therefore proposed that they take the
land and pay into the common treasury such rent as they may decide
upon, such money to be used for their own benefit. Exclamations of
consent and approbation continued to be heard, but the faces of the
peasants became more and more grave, and the eyes that at first were
fixed on the master were lowered, as if desiring not to shame him with
the fact that his cunning was understood by all, and that he could not
fool anybody.

Nekhludoff spoke very clearly, and the peasants were sensible folks;
but he was not understood, and could not be understood by them for the
same reason which prevented the clerk from understanding him for a
long time. They were convinced that it was natural for every man to
look out for his own interest. And as to the land owners, the
experience of several generations had taught them long ago that these
were always serving their own interests.

"Well, what rate do you intend to assess," asked Nekhludoff.