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"I've been waiting for you since this morning, Iakov. The inspector told me you were coming." The young man thought his voice seemed weaker than usual and his face seemed changed. He asked Serejka for a cigarette. "I have no tobacco for an imbecile like you," replied the latter, without stirring. "I'm going back home, Iakov," said Vassili, gravely digging into the sand with his fingers.
Vassili started in pursuit, his head bent, his arms extended, but his foot caught in some rope, and he fell all his length on the sand. He tried to rise, but the fall had taken all the fight out of him and he sank back on the beach, shaking his fist at Iakov, who remained grinning at a safe distance. He shouted: "Be cursed! I curse you forever!"
Thus she continued on until she came to the barrels where Serejka greeted her with this question: "Well, have you seen the last of him?" She gave an affirmative sign, and sat down beside him. Iakov looked at her and smiled, gently moving his lips as if he were saying things that he alone heard. "When will you go to the headland?" she asked Serejka, indicating the sea with a movement of her head.
The fishermen, after their night of heavy slumber, were emerging from their huts, one by one. From the distance all looked alike. One began to strike blows on an empty barrel at regular intervals. Two women were heard quarrelling. Dogs barked. "They are getting up," said Iakov. "And I wanted to start to town early. I've lost time with you."
Then from beneath the agitated water Iakov appeared, looking half drowned. Malva, at his side swimming like a fish, eluded his grasp, and tried to prevent him regaining the boat. Iakov struggled desperately, striking the water and roaring like a walrus, while Malva, screaming with laughter, swam round and round him, throwing the salt water in his face, and then diving to avoid his vigorous blows.
When he was some distance away, Iakov said: "In our village such a braggart would goon have been put in his place. Here, every one seems afraid of him." Malva looked at Iakov and replied, disdainfully: "You don't know his worth." "There's nothing to know. He's worth five kopeks a hundred."
Henceforward, he thought, his life would be less agreeable, less free. Iakov had surely guessed what Malva was. Meanwhile Malva, in the cabin, was trying to arouse the rustic with her bold eyes. "Perhaps you left a girl in the village?" she asked suddenly. "Perhaps," he responded surlily. Inwardly he was abusing Malva. "Is she pretty?" she asked with indifference. Iakov made no reply.
But feeling himself of equal strength as his adversary, Iakov regarded his father boldly, with a look that meant: "Touch me if you dare!" They had both drunk two glasses without exchanging a word, except a few commonplace remarks about the fisheries. Alone amidst the deserted waters each nursed his hatred, and both knew that this hate would soon burst forth into flame.
"I'll not fail," said Serejka. "Goodbye." "Goodbye, dear friend." "Goodbye, Malva," said Vassili, not raising his eyes. She slowly wiped her lips with her sleeve, threw her two white arms round his neck and kissed him three times on the lips and cheeks. He was overcome with emotion and uttered some indistinct words. Iakov lowered his head, dissimulating a smile.
Iakov understood her relations towards his father perfectly well and that prevented him from expressing himself freely. He was not surprised. It would have been difficult for a man like his father to have been long without a companion. "The soup is ready," announced Vassili, at the threshold of the cabin. "Get the spoons, Malva."
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