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Updated: May 15, 2025
The darkness seemed more alive. "Come, tell me," began Chelkash, "you'll go home to the village, and you'll marry and begin digging the earth and sowing corn, your wife will bear you children, food won't be too plentiful, and so you'll grind away all your life. Well? Is there such sweetness in that?" "Sweetness!" Gavrilo answered, timid and trembling, "what, indeed?"
Gavrilo felt himself growing heavy and dull as though his body had absorbed intoxication; his head swam and he could not see, in spite of his desire to satisfy his curiosity. Tchelkache returned; he ate and drank while he talked. At the third glass Gavrilo was drunk.
"Speak, what business do you mean?" The lad's terror amused him; he also enjoyed the sensation of being able to provoke such fear. "Dark transactions, brother. . . Let me go, for the love of Heaven. What am I to you? Friend . . ." "Be quiet! If I hadn't needed you, I shouldn't have brought you! Do you understand? Eh! Well, be quiet!" "Oh, Lord!" sobbed Gavrilo. "Enough!"
You're not the kind of man for whom any stir would be made! You're of no use on the earth! Who would take your part? That's the way it would be! Eh?" "Give back that money!" roared Tchelkache, seizing Gavrilo by the throat.
Well that how can I say? For what inducement? That's the point!" "Well, if it were for two rainbows?" "Two hundred roubles, you mean? Well I might." "But I say! What about your soul?" "Oh, well maybe one wouldn't lose it!" Gavrilo smiled. "One mightn't and it would make a man of one for all one's life." Chelkash laughed good-humoredly. "All right! that's enough joking. Let's row to land.
Get ready!" "Why, I've nothing to do! I'm ready." And soon they were in the boat again, Chelkash at the rudder, Gavrilo at the oars. Above them the sky was gray, with clouds stretched evenly across it. The muddy green sea played with their boat, tossing it noisily on the waves that sportively flung bright salt drops into it.
Tchelkache's boat stopped and rocked on the water as though hesitating. Gavrilo lay flat on the bottom of the boat, covering his face with his hands, and Tchelkache prodded him with his oar, hissing furiously, but quite low. "Idiot, that's the custom-house cruiser. The electric lantern! Get up, row with all your might! They'll throw the light upon us! You'll ruin us, devil, both of us!"
Chelkash whispered impressively. This whisper deprived Gavrilo of all power of grasping anything and transformed him into a senseless automaton, wholly absorbed in a chill presentiment of calamity. Mechanically he lowered the oars into the water, threw himself back, drew them out and dropped them in again, all the while staring blankly at his plaited shoes.
Take it, brother, I beg of you! I implore you, take it! I don't know where to put all this money; relieve me, here!" Tchelkache handed Gavrilo several ten ruble notes. The other took them with a shaking hand, dropped the oars and proceeded to conceal his booty in his blouse, screwing up his eyes greedily, and breathing noisily as though he were drinking something hot.
They crossed, forming a net that soon shut off the distance on land and water. For a long time there was nothing to be seen but the rain and this long body lying on the sand beside the sea . . . But suddenly, behold Gavrilo coming from out the rain, running; he flew like a bird. He went up to Tchelkache, fell upon his knees before him, and tried to turn him over.
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