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Updated: May 15, 2025
His head was downcast, the expression of his face Chelkash could not see; Gavrilo's ears only were dimly visible, and they turned red and then pale. "Well, damn you!" Chelkash waved his hand, "Have you fallen in love with me, or what? One might think you were a girl! Or is parting from me so upsetting? Hey, suckling! Tell me, what's wrong? or else I'm off!" "You're going!" Gavrilo cried aloud.
From the moment that he had ordered Gavrilo to row slowly, the lad had again experienced a feeling of feverish expectation.
He was wearing a pair of stout high boots, a short jacket, and leather breeches, and he looked like a sportsman. His whole costume was worn, but strong and very becoming to him, making him look broader, covering up his angularity, and giving him a military air. "Hi, little calf, get up!" He gave Gavrilo a kick. Gavrilo started up, and, not recognizing him, stared at him in alarm with dull eyes.
Meekly Gavrilo wiped his face with his sleeve, and murmured: "Do as you will. I won't say a word. For Christ's sake, forgive me!" "Snivelling idiot! Even stealing's more than you can do!" Chelkash cried scornfully, tearing a piece of his shirt under his jacket, and without a word, clenching his teeth now and then, he began binding up his head.
Tchelkache thrust his hand into his waistcoat pocket, withdrew the package of bills, put one of them in his pocket and threw all the rest at Gavrilo. "Take that and be off!" "I cannot take it . . . I cannot! Forgive me!" "Take it, I tell you!" roared Tchelkache, rolling his eyes frightfully. "Pardon me!
"Well, now we'll have a bit of lunch and talk things over. You sit still, I'll be back in a minute." He went out. Gavrilo looked round. The restaurant was in an underground basement; it was damp and dark, and reeked with the stifling fumes of vodka, tobacco-smoke, tar, and some acrid odor.
He shoved him away at last, jumped up to his feet, and thrusting his hands into his pockets, flung the rainbow notes at Gavrilo. "There, cur! Swallow them!" he roared, shaking with excitement, with intense pity and hatred of this greedy slave. And as he flung him the money, he felt himself a hero. There was a reckless gleam in his eyes, an heroic air about his whole person.
Like iron ringing. I'll wet it with some water in a minute." "Why? You'd better wet your inside, that may get rid of it. You can do that at once." He held out a bottle to Gavrilo. "Eh? Lord bless you!" There was a faint sound of swallowing. "Aye! aye! like it? Enough!" Chelkash stopped him. The boat darted on again, noiselessly and lightly threading its way among the vessels.
Chelkash, erect, frigid, rapacious looking, grinned maliciously, laughed a broken, biting laugh, and his mustaches twitched nervously in his sharp, angular face. Never in all his life had he been so cruelly wounded, and never had he felt so vindictive. "Well, are you happy now?" he asked Gavrilo through his laughter, and turning his back on him he walked away in the direction of the town.
"There he goes again!" he exclaimed fiercely. "You imagine, I suppose that I'm speaking seriously. I'm worth more than that, let me tell you!" "Why, you funny fellow!" replied Gavrilo, again intimidated, "am I speaking of you? There are a great many like you! My God, how many unfortunate persons, vagabonds there are on the earth!"
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