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If they were not chained up, what did become of them when it was calm? Gusev pondered for a long time about fishes as big as a mountain and stout, rusty chains, then he began to feel dull and thought of his native place to which he was returning after five years' service in the East.
On Mazin's upper lip two black streaks were limned, his face was fuller. Samoylov was just as curly-haired as before; and Ivan Gusev smiled just as broadly. "Ah, Fedka, Fedka!" whispered Sizov, drooping his head. The mother felt she could breathe more freely.
The mother walked to her place, set her pails on the ground, and wiping the perspiration from her face looked around her. The Gusev brothers, the locksmiths, instantly came up to her, and the older of them, Vasily, asked aloud, knitting his eyebrows: "Got any pirogs?" "I'll bring them to-morrow," she answered. This was the password agreed upon. The faces of the brothers brightened.
This monster with its huge beak was dashing onwards, cutting millions of waves in its path; it had no fear of the darkness nor the wind, nor of space, nor of solitude, caring for nothing, and if the ocean had its people, this monster would have crushed them, too, without distinction of saints or sinners. "Where are we now?" asked Gusev. "I don't know. We must be in the ocean."
Vasily Gusev came up to Nilovna and declared: "I am going to eat with you again. Is it good today?" And lowering his head and screwing up his eyes, he added in an undertone: "You see? It hit exactly! Good! Oh, mother, very good!"
The fruits of this journey were a series of articles in Russkaya Myssl on the island of Sahalin, and two short stories, "Gusev" and "In Exile." His articles on Sahalin were looked on with a favourable eye in Petersburg, and, who knows, it is possible that the reforms which followed in regard to penal servitude and exile would not have taken place but for their influence.
Mother is right. This thing is beyond our judgment." With one hand pressing Andrey's, Pavel laid the other on his shoulder, as if wishing to stop the tremor in his tall body. The Little Russian bent his head down toward him, and said in a broken, mournful voice: "I didn't want to do it, you know, Pavel. It happened when you walked ahead, and I remained behind with Ivan Gusev.
Gusev put out his hand to stroke it, but it shook its head, showed its teeth, and tried to bite his sleeve. "Damned brute..." said Gusev angrily. The two of them, he and the soldier, threaded their way to the head of the ship, then stood at the rail and looked up and down. Overhead deep sky, bright stars, peace and stillness, exactly as at home in the village, below darkness and disorder.
"What do you think?" the soldier with his arm in a sling asked Gusev. "Will he be in the Kingdom of Heaven or not?" "Who is it you are talking about?" "Pavel Ivanitch." "He will be... he suffered so long. And there is another thing, he belonged to the clergy, and the priests always have a lot of relations. Their prayers will save him."
They sang "Eternal Memory." The man on watch duty tilted up the end of the plank, Gusev slid off and flew head foremost, turned a somersault in the air and splashed into the sea. He was covered with foam and for a moment looked as though he were wrapped in lace, but the minute passed and he disappeared in the waves. He went rapidly towards the bottom. Did he reach it?
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