Twenty-six and One and Other Stories Part 17

Iakov plucked a leaf and chewed it.

"Listen," he said in a low tone and drawing near her. "Listen to what I'm going to say. I'm young and I love you."

"You're a silly lad, very silly," said Malva, shaking her head.

"I may be a fool," cried Iakov, pa.s.sionately. "But I love you, I love you."

"Be silent! Go away!"

"Why?"

"Because."

"Don't be obstinate." He took her gently by the shoulders. "Can't you understand?"

"Go away, Iakov," she cried, severely. "Go away!"

"Oh, if that's the tone you take I don't care a rap. You're not the only woman here. You imagine that you are better than the others."

She made no reply, rose and brushed the dust off her skirt.

"Come," she said.

And they went back to the fishing grounds side by side.

They walked slowly on account of the soft sand. Suddenly, as they were nearing the boats, Iakov stopped short and seized Malva by the arms.

"Are you driving me desperate on purpose? Why do you play with me like this?" he demanded.

"Leave me alone, I tell you," she said, calmly disengaging herself from his grasp.

Serejka appeared from behind a boat. He shook his fist at the couple, and said, threateningly:

"So, that's how you go off together. Va.s.sili shall know of this."

"Go to the devil, all of you!" cried Malva. And she left them, disappearing among the boats.

Iakov stood facing Serejka, and looked him square in the face. Serejka boldly returned the stare and so they remained for a minute or two, like two rams ready to charge on each other. Then without a word each turned away and went off in a different direction.

The sea was calm and crimson with the rays of the setting sun. A confused sound hovered over the fishing ground. The voice of a drunken woman sang hysterically words devoid of sense.

In the dawn's pure light the sea still slumbered, reflecting the pearl-like clouds. On the headland a party of fishermen still only half awake moved slowly about, getting ready the rigging of their boat.

Serejka, bareheaded and tattered as usual, stood in the bow hurrying the men on with a hoa.r.s.e voice, the result of his drunken orgy of the previous night.

"Where are the oars, Va.s.sili?"

Va.s.sili, moody as a dark autumn day, was arranging the net at the bottom of the boat. Serejka watched him and, when he looked his way, smacked his lips, signifying that he wanted to drink.

"Have you any brandy," he asked.

"Yes," growled Va.s.sili.

"Good. I'll take a nip when they've gone."

"Is all ready?" cried the fishermen.

"Let go!" commanded Serejka, jumping to the ground. "Be careful. Go far out so as not to entangle the net."

The big boat slid down the greased planks to the water, and the fishermen, jumping in as it went, seized the oars, ready to strike the water directly she was afloat. Then with a big splash the graceful bark forged ahead through the great plain of luminous water.

"Why didn't you come Sunday?" said Va.s.sili, as the two men went back to the cabin.

"I couldn't."

"You were drunk?"

"No, I was watching your son and his step-mother," said Serejka, phlegmatically.

"A new worry on your shoulders," said Va.s.sili, sarcastically and with a forced smile. "They are only children." He was tempted to learn where and how Serejka had seen Malva and Iakov the day before, but he was ashamed.

"Why don't you ask news of Malva?" asked Serejka, as he gulped down a gla.s.s of brandy.

"What do I care what she does?" replied Va.s.sili, with indifference, although he trembled with a secret presentiment.

"As she didn't come Sunday, you should ask what she was doing. I know you are jealous, you old dog!"

"Oh, there are many like her," said Va.s.sili, carelessly.

"Are there?" said Serejka, imitating him. "Ah, you peasants, you're all alike. As long as you gather your honey, it's all one to you."

"What's she to you?" broke in Va.s.sili with irritation. "Have you come to ask her hand in marriage?"

"I know she's yours," said Serejka. "Have I ever bothered you? But now Iakov, your son, is all the time dancing around her, it's different.

Beat him, do you hear? If not, I will. You've got a strong fist if you are a fool."

Va.s.sili did not reply, but watched the boat as it turned about and made toward the beach again.

"You are right," he said finally. "Iakov will hear from me."

"I don't like him. He smells too much of the village," said Serejka.

In the distance, on the sea, was opening out the pink fan formed by the rays of the rising sun. The glowing orb was already emerging from the water. Amid the noise of the waves was heard from the boat the distant cry:

"Draw in!"

"Come, boys!" cried Serejka, to the other fishermen on the beach.