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Updated: May 1, 2025
Respect, plenty, independence gladness! Chelkash heard him attentively, with a serious face and eyes filled with some dreamy thought. At times he smiled a smile of content. "Here we are!" Chelkash cried at last, interrupting Gavrilo. A wave caught up the boat and neatly drove it onto the sand. "Come, mate, now it's over. We must drag the boat up farther, so that it shouldn't get washed away.
His shoulders and his ears were twitching. "You're greedy. That's bad. But, of course, you're a peasant," Chelkash said musingly. "But see what one can do with money!" cried Gavrilo, suddenly breaking into passionate excitement, and jerkily, hurriedly, as though chasing his thoughts and catching his words as they flew, he began to speak of life in the village with money and without money.
Chelkash let go of his hand, and with complete composure strode back to the dock gates. The customs-house officer followed him, swearing furiously. Chelkash grew more cheerful; he whistled shrilly through his teeth, and thrusting his hands in his breeches pockets, walked with the deliberate gait of a man of leisure, firing off to right and to left biting jeers and jests.
Chelkash looked calmly at him from under his thick eyebrows, smiled behind his mustache and not letting go of his hand, went on talking. "Don't hurry me. I'll just have my chat out with you, and then I'll go. Come, tell us how you're getting on; wife and children quite well?"
He reeled, his legs shook, and he held his head queerly, as though he were afraid of losing it. "Forgive me, brother!" Gavrilo besought him once more. "All right!" Chelkash answered, coldly, setting off on his way. He walked away, staggering, and still holding his head in his left hand, while he slowly tugged at his brown mustache with the right.
Chelkash commanded briefly, for some reason holding back a whole torrent of furious abuse, which surged up into his throat. They changed places again, and Chelkash, as he crept across the boat to the stern, felt an intense desire to give Gavrilo a kick that would send him flying into the water, and at the same time could not pluck up courage to look him in the face.
And they went down the street side by side, Chelkash with the dignified air of an employer, twisting his mustaches, the youth with an expression of absolute readiness to give way to him, but yet full of distrust and uneasiness. "And what's your name?" asked Chelkash. "Gavrilo!" answered the youth.
Who's been decorating you like that? Why, what a sight they have made of your signboard! Have you seen Mishka here?" "I've not seen him this long while!" the other shouted, and hastily went back to his companions. Chelkash went on farther, greeted by everyone as a familiar figure.
Gavrilo was trembling all over with suspense and some other acute feeling that dragged at his heart. "Ha ha ha! Oh, you devil's doll! 'I'd not say no! Take it, mate, please! I beg you, indeed, take it! I don't know what to do with such a lot of money! You must help me out, take some, there!" Chelkash held out some red notes to Gavrilo.
The voice was farther off this time. Chelkash grew calm again. "It's yourself, friend, that's shouting!" he said in the direction of the shouts, and then he turned to Gavrilo, who was muttering a prayer. "Well, mate, you're in luck! If those devils had overtaken us, it would have been all over with you. D'you see? I'd have you over in a trice to the fishes!"
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