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The young fellow at first blinked in bewilderment, but then, suddenly bursting into a guffaw, shouted through his laughter: "Oh! you funny chap!" and half getting up from the ground, rolled clumsily from his post to Chelkash's, upsetting his bag into the dust, and knocking the heel of his scythe on the stone.
Then across the wall stretched Chelkash's long figure, the oars appeared from somewhere, Gavrilo's bag dropped at his feet, and Chelkash, breathing heavily, settled himself in the stern. Gavrilo gazed at him with a glad and timid smile. "Tired?" "Bound to be that, calf! Come now, row your best! Put your back into it! You've earned good wages, mate. Half the job's done.
And this thought and feeling, filling him with a sense of his own independence and reckless daring, kept him beside Gavrilo on the desolate sea shore. "You've made me happy!" shrieked Gavrilo, and snatching Chelkash's hand, he pressed it to his face. Chelkash did not speak; he grinned like a wolf. Gavrilo still went on pouring out his heart: "Do you know what I was thinking about?
Why there's goods enough here to last our time for you and me. By God, there's enough, Semyonitch! So you've been filching two cases of goods, eh? Mind, Semyonitch, you'd better look out? You'll get caught one day!" Enraged by Chelkash's insolence, Semyonitch turned blue, and struggled, spluttering and trying to say something.
In a moment they were on the deck, where three dark-bearded figures, eagerly chattering together, in a strange staccato tongue looked over the side into Chelkash's boat. The fourth clad in a long gown, went up to him and pressed his hand without speaking, then looked suspiciously round at Gavrilo. "Get the money ready for me by the morning," Chelkash said to him shortly. "And now I'll go to sleep.
While before Chelkash's eyes floated pictures of the past, the far past, separated from the present by the whole barrier of eleven years of vagrant life. He saw himself a child, his village, his mother, a red-cheeked plump woman, with kindly gray eyes, his father, a red-bearded giant with a stern face.
Go away, mate, while you're asked to civilly, go away, or I'll chuck you out by the scruff of your neck." "A-ha, that's like you! And you say-you don't know Mishka! But I say, why are you so cross, Semyonitch?" "I tell you, Grishka, don't give me any of your jaw. Go -o!" The official began to get angry and, looking from side to side, tried to pull his hand away from Chelkash's firm grip.
"Give the money here!" growled Chelkash, clutching Gavrilo by the throat. Gavrilo struggled away once, twice. Chelkash's other arm twisted like a snake about him there was the sound of a shirt tearing and Gavrilo lay on the sand, with his eyes staring wildly, his fingers clutching at the air and his legs waving.
They'll come and fetch it. Well, we must say good-bye! It's eight versts from here to the town. What are you going to do? Coming back to the town, eh?" Chelkash's face was radiant with a good-humoredly sly smile, and altogether he had the air of a man who had thought of something very pleasant for himself and a surprise to Gavrilo. Thrusting his hand into his pocket, he rustled the notes there.
Chelkash's boat stopped and rocked on the water, as though in uncertainty. Gavrilo lay at the bottom, his face hidden in his hands, until Chelkash poked him with an oar and whispered furiously, but softly: "Fool, it's the customs cruiser. That's the electric light! Get up, blockhead! Why, they'll turn the light on us in a minute! You'll be the ruin of yourself and me! Come!"
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