I was inspecting one day the technical school
of the town of N----. One of the founders of the school, a personal
friend of mine, was showing me round. He pointed out all the new and
model arrangements and gave me an account of everything.
"As you see, we may be proud of our work.... Our school, which we
planted at first like a small seed, has grown into a well-developed
and splendid institution. We have been exceedingly fortunate in the
choice of our teachers. In the shoemaking class, for instance, we have
a woman-teacher, who was formerly the wife of a shoemaker, a charming
bright little creature, simple in her nature, and irreproachable as to
character. And how she works!... She is indeed a wonder!... Her way of
teaching her trade too is quite astonishing; she has such patience and
love for the children. She gets only twelve roubles a month besides
her lodging, and at the price she is a treasure.... Out of her scanty
earnings she herself supports two orphan children!... She's a most
interesting person, I can tell you!..."
He said so much in praise of the shoemaker's wife that I became quite
curious to see her. It was not long before my wish was fulfilled, and
one day Matrona Ivanovna Orlova told me the sad story of her life. At
first, after her separation from her husband, he gave her no peace--he
would arrive drunk, make a terrible row, watch her whenever she went
out, and if he succeeded in catching her, would beat her pitilessly.
She bore it all. When the Infirmary was closed, the lady doctor
promised to get her a situation in the school, and protect her from
her husband. This she succeeded in doing, and henceforth a peaceful
industrious life began for Matrona. With the help of the assistants,
whom she had known in the Infirmary, she learnt to read and write;
later on she adopted two orphans, a boy and a girl, whom she found in
the Orphanage,--she made a home for herself and grew happier, only
looking back with sadness and horror on her former life. She loved her
pupils, and realized the importance of the work that was entrusted to
her, and to which she devoted absolutely her life. She had gained the
affection and respect of all the managers of the school. But a dry
painful cough troubled her, and a hectic flush on her thin cheeks was
an omen of the disease which was undermining her strength. Her grey
eyes burned with an expression of fathomless grief. Her married life
with the restless Grischka had left these traces behind....
Grischka had, however, for the last three years left his wife entirely
alone. He came sometimes to N----, but never showed his face to his
wife. "He had gone on the tramp," that was the expression Matrona used
to describe the kind of life her husband led.
I had the opportunity later on of making his acquaintance. I came
across him in one of the slum quarters of the town, and after we had
met two or three times we became friends. He told me the story of his
married life--the same story indeed that I had already heard from
Matrona. After telling it he seemed lost for a time in reflection, and
then added--
"Yes, Maxime Sawatjeitsch, that's how it all happened ... that's
the way I seem to have been lifted up, and then cruelly dashed down
again. I never managed to do anything heroic after all. But I still
feel the intense desire to do something out of the common, something
extraordinary. I should like to crush everything on earth to dust ...
or gather together a band of boon companions, and destroy every Jew in
the world--every single one! To do something that would raise me to a
higher level than all the rest of mankind ... so that from my heights
I could spit down on all of them. Something that would give me the
right to say to them all, 'You reptiles, you! what are you living for?
And how are you living? You are a set of hypocrites and rogues, and
nothing else!' ... After that I should not mind falling head foremost
from my heights, even if I got smashed to pieces on the ground!...
Hm?.. yes!... Devil take it all!... How dull and flat life is! It has
always seemed to me narrow and cramped! Once I had got the weight of
Matrona off my shoulders I thought to myself, 'Now, Grischka, the
anchor is up, you can sail away freely wherever you like!' But it all
turned out different from what I thought it would; my boat got caught
in the shallows, and here I am aground!... But, never fear, I shall
get off some day, and shall yet make a name for myself ... My wife?...
Oh, she is nothing to me now!... Let her goto the devil!... What does
a man like me want with a wife?... How can I be tied to a wife when I
feel as if I were constantly being attracted towards the four quarters
of the earth?... I was born with the spirit of unrest in my heart ...
and fate marked me out for a tramp, for a wanderer over the face of
the earth.... It's the best life there is after all.... It's free,
though it's not without its discomforts.... I have tramped all over the
place, and never yet have found comfort for my soul.... I drink, you
say.... Well, I sup pose that's true; but what else is there to do?...
Vodka is the only thing that really soothes the soul; and there is an
inextinguishable flame, which is burning up my soul.... Everything
seems in opposition to me; the towns, the villages, people in every
condition of life.... I am sick of it all! Would it not have been
possible to have invented something better than all this?... Half the
world seems to be preying on the other half.... There is nothing for it
but to destroy them all! Ah! life, life, what an invention of the devil
it is!"
The heavy door of the vodka-shop, where Orloff and I sat talking, swung
backwards and forwards from time to time with a creaking, suggestive
sound. As one glanced at the dark interior it appeared like the huge
jaws of a giant, slowly but surely swallowing up, one after the other,
these poor wretched Russian souls ... both the restless and the quiet
alike....
MALVA
CHAPTER I
The sea laughed.
It thrilled beneath the warm light breath of the wind, and its surface
became covered with faint ripples, reflecting dazzingly the sun;
whilst, with its thousand silvery lips it laughed back to the sky.
The vast space between the sea and the sky seemed filled with the
joyful hum of wave-voices, rippling up, one after the other, over the
flat shore of the sandy cape. This sound blended with the flashes of
sunlight, reflected a thousandfold by the sea, and melted harmoniously
into one ceaseless agitation full of living joy. The sky was happy as
it poured forth light; the sea was happy as it reflected the glory of
the sunlight.
The wind caressed the smooth powerful bosom of the sea, warmed by the
sun's ardent rays; and the ocean seemed to sigh as if fatigued with
these amorous caresses; it filled the burning air with the salt smell
of its emanations. The greenish waves, lapping the yellow sands, tossed
forwards the white froth of their crests, which melted with gentle
hissing sounds, moistening the foreshore....
The long narrow tongue of earth resembled some enormous tower which had
fallen on to its side into the sea. Its slender point was planted in
the vast solitude of the water, laughing up to the sun; whilst its base
seemed lost in the distance, where a warm haze hid the mainland. There
came from thence with the breeze a heavy smell, incomprehensible and
offensive out here, in the midst of the wild pure sea, under the dome
of clear blue sky.
Fixed in the sand, which seemed in part covered with fish-scales, were
wooden posts. From these fishing-nets hung to dry, casting delicate
shadows, fine and light as spiders-webs. A few large boats and one
smaller one lay in a line on the beach, and the waves as they ran up
towards them seemed to be calling them.
Oars, coils of rope, and barrels lay about in disorder; whilst amongst
them rose a hut made of willow-branches, of bark and of matting. At the
door of the hut, on the knotted fork of the branch of a tree, hung,
soles upwards, two felt boots; and above this general chaos floated a
strip of red rag at the top of a high mast.
In the shade of a boat Vassili Legostev was lying down; his duty was
to watch over the interests of the fishing merchant Grebentchikok,
whose fisheries were established on this promontory. Lying flat on his
stomach, his head in his hands, he was watching with a fixed gaze
the sea, and still further away the almost invisible coast-line. Over
there, on the water, a black speck was dancing up and down, and Vassili
watched it with satisfaction as it grew larger, and drew nearer.
Half closing his eyes, to shut out the strong glare from the waves, his
face beamed with pleasure: it was Malva who was coming. She would come
laughing so joyously that her bosom would rise and fall in tempting
throbs; she would throw her soft strong arms around him, would kiss
him, and in her sonorous voice that frightened away the seagulls she
would give him news of what was going on over there on the shore.
Together they would make some capital fish-soup and they would drink
vodka, whilst they chatted and played about together; then as the
daylight waned they would regale themselves with boiling hot tea and
little rolls, and afterwards go to bed. This was how they spent every
Sunday and feast-day. At dawn he would take her, still heavy with
sleep, back across the sea through the fresh morning air. Malva with
sleepy eyes would sit down near the rudder, and he would row and watch
her. She was so quaint at those times--quaint and charming, like? soft
little cat that has eaten a good meal. Sometimes she would slide down
to the bottom of the boat, and would sleep there, rolled up against him
like a ball. Often she did this.
To-day even the gulls seemed languid with the heat They stood in rows
on the sand, their beaks open, and their wings hanging; or else they
rocked idly on the waves without uttering their accustomed cries, or
showing their usual fierce animation.
It seemed to Vassili that Malva was not alone in the boat Could it be
that Sereja had come with her again? Vassili moved uneasily on the
sand, and then sat up shading his eyes with his hand; he seemed trying,
with a vexed expression on his face, to discover who it could be who
was arriving.... Malva was holding the rudder. It was not Sereja rowing
with that strong but clumsy stroke. If it had been Sereja, Malva would
not have troubled herself to steer.
"Ahoy!" cried Vassili impatiently.
The seagulls were startled, and became attentive.
"Ahoy! Ahoy!" replied from the boat the clear voice of Malva.
"Who have you got with you?"
The only reply he received was a laugh.
"The little devil!" swore Vassili under his breath.
He spat on one side with an offended gesture.
He was full of curiosity. Whilst rolling a cigarette, he scanned the
neck and the back of the rower who was approaching rapidly. The noise
made by the oars striking the water, rang through the air, and the sand
was ground beneath the bare feet of the keeper who was struggling
against a nervous fit of curiosity.
"Who is with you?" he cried when he was able to discern the smile, so
familiar to him, on the beautiful round face of Malva.
"Just wait!... You will recognize him yourself all right!" she answered
laughing.
The rower turned round, and laughing also, looked full at Vassili, The
keeper frowned; it appeared to him he had seen the lad before.
"Row faster!" Malva ordered.
The impetus was so strong that the boat was tossed sideways on to
the shore by a wave, and then righted herself whilst the wave rolled
laughing back into the sea. The rower jumped ashore, and went straight
up to Vassili--
"Good-day, father!"
"Jakoff!" exclaimed Vassili, more astonished than pleased.
They kissed each other three times on the mouth and on the cheeks;
after which Vassili's astonishment was a mixture of joy and of trouble.
"I felt sure ... there was something ... my heart told me so.... Ah!
it's you ... How did you manage it?... And I, who was saying to myself,
Is it Sereja?... No; I could see quite well it wasn't Sereja!... And
now I find it's you!"
Vassili was stroking his beard with one hand, and with the other he
was gesticulating in the air. He would have liked to have looked at
Malva, but the bright eyes of his son were fixed on him and made him
feel awkward. His pride, in having a son so strong and so handsome, was
struggling against the embarrassment he felt in the presence of his
mistress. He moved about restlessly in front of Jakoff, interjecting
questions without waiting for replies. Everything seemed to be mixed up
in his head, and the culminating point of discomfort was reached when
he heard Malva remark in a mocking tone--
"Don't jump about like that ... for joy! Take him to the hut and give
him a feed."
He glanced at her: a mocking smile, which he knew well, hovered in
the corners of her lips, and her whole person, round, soft and fresh
as usual, appeared at the same time strange and new to him. Malva was
glancing with her green eyes from father to son, while she nibbled
carraway seeds with her little white teeth. Jakoff was also smiling,
and for a few seconds, which were painful to Vassili, all three were
silent.
"I shall be back directly!" cried Vassili suddenly, going towards the
hut. "Don't stay there in the sun. I am going to fetch some water....
We'll make some soup. I'll give you some fish-soup to taste, Jakoff!
You two look after each other; I shall be with you in a minute,..."
He caught up an earthenware saucepan which was on the ground near the
hut, and retired behind the nets, whose grey folds completely hid him
from view.
Malva and the lad followed him.
"Well, my fine young man, I have brought you to your father!" said
Malva, eyeing Jakoff's robust figure.
He bent towards her his face, covered with its soft, fair beard, and
said with sparkling eyes--
"Yes, here we are!... It's fine to be here.... What a stretch of sea!"
"Yes, the sea is wide.... And the old man? Has he changed much?"
"No ... no.... I thought he would be whiter, and he has scarcely any
grey hairs.... And he's so ... strong!"
"How long is it since you have seen each other?"
"Five years, perhaps.... When he left the village, I was going on for
seventeen."
They went into the hut, where the heat and the smell of the fish were
stifling. They sat down--Jakoff on a great log of wood, and Malva on
some sacks. Between them was a cask, sawn in half, the bottom half of
which Vassili used as a table. When they were settled they looked at
each other for some time without speaking.
"It seems you want to get work here?" asked Malva.
"Well ... I don't quite know.... If I find a job ... I will work."
"You'll find one fast enough!" said Malva with assurance, watching him
always with her curious oblique green eyes.
He was not looking at her; but with the sleeve of his shirt was wiping
away the sweat which covered his face.
All of a sudden she broke into laughter.
"Your mother very likely gave you all sorts of messages and greetings
for your father?"
Jakoff replied with a gesture of impatience--
"Of course she did! And what then?..."
"Nothing!" she said, still laughing.
Her mocking laughter displeased Jakoff. He moved away from the woman,
and began to think of his mother's words.
When she had accompanied him to the end of the village, she had leant
against a gate, speaking quickly, and blinking her dry eyes.
"Tell him, Jakoff, tell him in the name of Christ. 'Father, my mother
is alone over there! She is growing old.... Five years have gone by
and she is still alone!' Tell him, my little Jakoff, for the love of
God! 'My mother will soon be an old woman, alone, always alone, always
at work.' In the name of Christ, tell him this." And she had cried
quietly, hiding her face in her apron.
Jakoff had not pitied her then, but now he pitied her.... And he
glanced at Malva with a hard expression, as if he were going to address
her in a tone of coarse abuse.
"Well, here I am!" exclaimed Vassili, appearing with a quivering fish
in one hand and a knife in the other.
He had conquered his embarrassment, hiding it deep down within himself.
He was able now to look at his guests with serenity and good-humour,
though his movements were more abrupt than usual "I am just going to
make a fire ... and then I'll be back.... We will talk then. Well,
Jakoff! What a fine lad you have grown!" And he disappeared once more.
Malva continued to nibble the grains. She watched Jakoff with an air of
familiarity; and he tried not to catch her eye although he longed to do
so; and he thought to himself--
"Life must be fine out here; one can eat to one's heart's content.
How fat she is, and so is my father!" Then as the silence made him
feel nervous, he remarked out loud--"I forgot to get my bag out of the
boat.... I'll just go and fetch it."
Jakoff rose slowly and went out. Then Vassili appeared; he bent towards
Malva, and said rapidly in an angry voice--
"What did you want to come with him for?... What am I to tell him about
you?... What are you to me?"
"I have come, and that's all!" answered Malva.
"You stupid creature! Aren't you ashamed?... What am I to do now? Am
I to tell him straight out that ... But I have a wife at home.... His
mother.... You might have understood!"
"What does it matter to me? Do you think I'm frightened of him? Or of
you?" she asked, screwing up contemptuously her green eyes. "And how
you carried on when you first saw him!... What fun it was to see you!"
"You thought it fun, did you?... But what am I going to do?"
"You ought to have thought of that before."
"But could I imagine that the sea was going to throw him up here,
without giving me a word of warning?"
Jakoff's footsteps were heard in the sand, and they were obliged to
interrupt their conversation. Jakoff had brought back a bag, which he
tossed into a corner, glancing angrily towards the woman. She was still
nibbling seeds. Vassili sat on the log of wood, rubbing his knee, and
said with a constrained smile--
"Well, here you are!... What made you think of coming here?"
"It just came into my head.... We had written to you...."
"When? I didn't get any letter."
"Is that so?... Well, we wrote to you!"
"The letter must have been lost," said Vassili regretfully. "Devil take
it!... It's always the important letters that get lost...."
"Then you don't know anything about us?" asked Jakoff distrustfully.
"How should I know anything? I have not received any letter."
Then Jakoff told how their horse had died, how they had eaten all their
com before the beginning of February, and how he himself was no longer
able to earn a living. There was no more hay left, the cow had been
nearly starved to death. They had managed to get along till April, and
then they had decided that after the ploughing Jakoff should go and
find his father, and should get work somewhere away, during the next
three months. This was what they had written. Then they sold three
sheep and bought some flour and some hay, after which Jakoff started
off.
"Well, I never!" exclaimed Vassili. "How is it possible?... I sent you
money!"
"It was little enough, your money! We had to repair the house; and
there was the sister's marriage. I bought a plough.... You see, five
years is a long time."
"Hm!... So it wasn't enough? What a long story!... And my soup which Is
boiling away!"
He rose and went out. Stooping down over the fire, above which hung
the boiling-pot Vassili reflected whilst he tossed the scum into the
flames.
Nothing in the story told by his son affected him particularly, but
he felt irritated with his wife, and with Jakoff. What a lot of money
he had sent them during these five years! And they had not managed to
get along with it If Malva had not been there he would have spoken out
straight to his son. Jakoff had managed very well to leave the village
without his father's permission; but with regard to his piece of land
it wasn't used up yet And this land, about which Vassili, during his
easy, pleasant life had scarcely thought, now returned suddenly to his
mind; it appeared to him as a gulf, into which he had been throwing his
money, as something useless and embarrassing. He sighed, as with the
spoon he stirred the soup.
In the sunlight, the little yellow flame of the fire showed pale and
miserable! Threads of blue transparent smoke stretched from the hearth
towards the sea, as if going to meet the waves. Vassili followed them
with his glance, and thought of his son, of Malva; he was thinking to
himself that from this day forth his life would be less pleasant, less
free. Surely Jakoff had already guessed what Malva was to him.
She remained in the hut, exciting the lad with her bold, provoking
eyes.
"Perhaps you have left your sweetheart behind you in the village," she
said suddenly.
"Perhaps I have!" he replied unwillingly.
And in his heart he was abusing Malva.
"Is she pretty?" she asked indifferently.
Jakoff did not reply.
"Why don't you answer?... Is she prettier than I am?"
He looked at her almost against his will. Her cheeks were flushed and
sunburnt, her lips full and tempting, and now that a mischievous smile
lurked about them, they seemed to tremble. She wore a becoming little
blouse of pink cotton, showing the outline of her rounded shoulders,
her full and supple bosom. But he did not like her green, cunning,
mocking eyes.
"Why do you talk like that?"
He sighed involuntarily, and spoke in a pleading voice; he would have
liked, if he could have done so, to have spoken to her in a severe tone.
"How must I speak to you?" she asked, laughing.
"And now you are laughing ... what about?"
"I'm laughing at you...."
"What have I done?" he asked crossly.
And again he dropped his eyes before her glance.
She did not reply.
Jakoff had a very shrewd idea of what her relations with his father
were, and that prevented him from speaking openly. He was not in the
least astonished; he had heard it said, that when people worked far
away from the village they lost their habits of respectability; and
besides it would have been difficult for a strong man like his father
to do without a woman for such a long time. But nevertheless he felt
awkward both on her account, and on that of his father. And then he
remembered once more his mother, harassed and complaining, who was
working over there without rest or help.
"The soup is ready!" Vassili announced, standing at the door of the
hut. "Give us the spoons, Malva."
Jakoff looked at his father and thought--
"One can see she comes here often, for she knows where everything is."
When she had found the spoons, she said she must go down to the sea to
wash them, and that in the boat she had some vodka.
The father and son watched her as she walked away, and, when they found
themselves alone, remained silent.
"Where did you meet her?" said Vassili at last
"I asked at the office where you were; she was there. And she said to
me--'Why go on foot along the sand? Let us go in the boat; I also am
going to see him.' And we set off."
"Yes?... Well, I have often said to myself, 'I wonder how he is now, my
Jakoff?'"
The son smiled good-naturedly. This gave Vassili back his courage.
"And ... how are you?"
"Oh! all right ..." said Jakoff, dropping his eyelids.
"What the devil could I do?" exclaimed Vassili, waving his arms about
"I kept straight at first ... But I couldn't go on like that It was
habit ... you see I am a married man!... And then she mends my clothes,
and so on.... Besides, one__ can't escape either women or death!"
This simple maxim seemed to bring his explanation to a close.
"What does it matter to me?" said Jakoff. "It's your business, I am not
your judge."
But he thought to himself--"I should like to see her mending his
trousers!"
"I am forty-five; that's not old yet ... She costs me very little; why
the devil should she?... she is not my wife!..." continued Vassili.
"Of course not!" admitted Jakoff.
But he thought--"I bet she makes his money slip through her fingers!"
Malva had returned with a bottle of vodka and a string of little
rolls; they sat down to dinner. They ate without talking, sucking the
fish-bones noisily, and spitting them on to the sand near the door.
Jakoff devoured his portion, and this seemed to please Malva. She
watched with a tender expression his great sunburnt jaws chewing, his
cheeks distending, and his thick, moist lips moving. Vassili was not
hungry; he attempted to appear absorbed in his meal, so as to be able
to observe at his ease Jakoff and Malva, and to think over the way in
which he should behave towards them.
The joyful and caressing music of the waves was accompanied by the
ferocious and victorious cries of the seagulls. The heat seemed to be
growing less, and from time to time a breath of fresh air impregnated
with the pure smell of the sea, seemed to reach the hut.
After having eaten the excellent fish-soup, and drunk several glasses
of vodka, Jakoff became sleepy. He began by smiling stupidly, and
yawning, looking at Malva all the time in such a way that Vassili
thought it better to say to him--
"Lie down here, Jakoff, till tea-time ... then we will call you."
"All right," said Jakoff, throwing himself down on some rugs. "And you
two ... where are you going?... He! he!"
Vassili, annoyed by this guffaw, went out hastily. Malva closed her
lips tightly, knitted her brows, and replied to Jakoff--
"Where we are going is not your affair! What is it to you? I advise you
not to meddle with other people's business. Do you hear that, my lad?"
And she went off.
"Oh, very well!" cried Jakoff. "Just wait a bit! Ha! ha! ha! I'll show
you.... All right!... you're a nice sort of young lady!"
He grumbled on for a few minutes longer, then went off to sleep with a
drunken, satisfied smile on his red face.
Vassili stuck three posts into the sand, and tied the tops of them
together; over this he threw a mat, and having thus rapidly arranged a
shelter, he lay down in the shade, put his hands behind his head, and
looked at the sky. When Malva approached and threw herself on the sand
at his side, he turned towards her a face full of resentment.
"Well, old man," she asked, laughing, "aren't you more pleased than
that at seeing your son?"
"He mocks me ... and why? Because of you ... that's what it
means," replied Vassili, gloomily.
"Because of me, indeed?..."
She maliciously feigned astonishment "Why ... of course!"
"Ah! how you upset me!... What am I to be up to now? I mustn't come
back, I suppose.... Well, I won't come any more...."
"Get along with you, you baggage!... What a set of creatures you
are!... He mocks me, and now you are doing the same ... and you are
the two who are the nearest to me. And where's the joke, I would like
to know? You're a pair of devils!"
He ceased speaking and walked away. She remained sitting, holding her
knees and rocking her whole body backwards and forwards with a gentle
movement, watching with her lambent green eyes the joyous sea, and
smiling one of those triumphant smiles which women indulge in who
understand the power of their beauty.
A sailing-boat was gliding over the water, looking like a huge bird
with grey wings. It was far from the shore, and was moving ever further
and further away, towards the point where the sea and the sky melted
into an infinite blue, drawing everything into the mystery of its
absorbing tranquillity.
"Why don't you speak?" said Vassili.
"I am thinking," replied Malva.
"What about?"
"Nothing in particular."
She raised her eyebrows, and after a few minutes' silence added--
"That son of yours is a fine lad!"
"What's that to you?" cried Vassili, with jealousy in his voice.
"I'm sure I don't know...."
"Just you look out for yourself!" (He threw her a glance of distrust)
"Don't play the fool. There'll be an end of my patience some time; you
had better not aggravate me!"
He ground his teeth, clenched his fists, and continued--
"As soon as you got here to-day, you were up to some game.... I don't
quite understand what it is, but look here, if you make me understand
it, you will be sorry for it! Yes, you may go on making your grimaces
... and you think perhaps I don't notice them.... I know how to treat
your sort ... if you carry on...."
"Don't try and frighten me, Vassili!" she said listlessly, and without
looking at him.
"Very well! Don't you make jokes then!"
"Don't try to frighten me."
"I'll make you dance if you begin any of your nonsense!"
Vassili was becoming every moment more irritable.
"Would you beat me?"
She came up to him, and looked curiously into his agitated face.
"One would think you were a countess!... Yes, I would beat you."
"I'm not your wife, though!" said Malva in a quiet, didactic voice; and
without waiting for a reply, she continued--"You used to beat your wife
for nothing, and you think now that you can do the same with me. No! I
am free. I only belong to myself, and I am not afraid of any one. But
you, you are afraid of your son; just now you were trying to get over
him! And you, you dare to threaten me?"
She threw up her head contemptuously, and remained silent Her
disdainful cold words had extinguished Vassili's anger. He had never
seen her looking more beautiful, and he was astonished.
"Now she's off on her high horse!" he exclaimed admiringly.
"I have something else to settle with you. You were boasting to Sereja
that I could no more do without you than I could do without bread;
that I couldn't live without you! Well, that's just your mistake....
Perhaps, after all, it is not you I care for, not for you that I come
here. Suppose, after all, it is because I love this beach?"
... (She stretched out her arms with a gesture of embrace.) "Perhaps
I love solitude; here, there are only sky and sea, and no vile human
beings. And your being here doesn't count You are the price that I have
to pay for coming here.... If Sereja had been here, it would have been
Sereja that I should have come to see; if it were your son, I should
come also.... It would be best of all if there were no one here.... I
am disgusted with you all!... But if I take it into my head, I can any
day, beautiful as I know I am, choose another man ... who will be worth
more than you."
"We'll see about that," hissed Vassili furiously; and he seized her by
the throat "So it has come to that, has it?"
He shook her, and she did not try to get away, although her flushed
face and bloodshot eyes showed that she was choking. But she placed her
two hands on the hand that was pressing her throat.
"So this was what was in your mind!" (Vassili's voice was hoarse with
rage.) "And all the time you said nothing; you kissed me, and you
caressed me.... I'll teach you a lesson!"
He pushed her down towards the ground, and struck her with a feeling
of satisfaction on the neck and shoulders; once, twice, with his heavy
muscular fist He felt a pleasant sensation each time that his hand
struck the warm, yielding flesh.
"Take that!... serpent!..." he said with a triumphant air, pushing her
away.
Without uttering a complaint, silent and calm, she allowed herself to
fall backwards, flushed, dishevelled, but still beautiful. Her green
eyes watched him under their eyelids, and seemed to bum with the cold
flame of hatred; whilst he, panting with excitement, and pleased with
the outlet he had given to his anger, did not notice this glance; and
when he leant over her full of the contempt bred of victory, she was
smiling softly.
At first her lips trembled a little, then her eyes lighted up, dimples
showed in her cheeks, and she began to laugh. Vassili watched her with
astonishment, as she laughed loud and gaily, as if she had not just
been beaten.
"What's the matter now, you little she-devil?" he cried anxiously,
pulling her roughly by the sleeve.
"Vassia, was it you who beat me?" she murmured.
"Yes, it was I; who else could it be?"
He watched her, but failed to understand her mood. Should he beat her
again? But his anger was now dead; he had no wish to begin again.
"Is it because you love me?" she asked gently.
And Vassili felt hot all over, as he listened to her whispering voice.
"That's enough now!... Devil take you!" he replied moodily. "Are you
satisfied?"
"Vassia! and I, who thought you did not care for me any more. I said
to myself, 'Now that his son is here, he will send me away on his
account.'"
And she burst out into a strange exaggerated laugh.
"Fool!" said Vassili, smiling involuntarily.
He felt himself in the wrong, and pitied her; but recalling the words
she had used at first, and which had roused his anger, he replied
gruffly--
"My son has nothing to do in the matter.... And if I have beaten you
it was because you deserved it: why did you nag at me?"
"I did it on purpose, to try you."
And with provoking playfulness, she rubbed against his shoulder. He
glanced hastily towards the hut, and then kissed the young girl.
"To try me indeed!... a fine idea ... now you see what you have got."
"It doesn't matter," said Malva, half closing her eyes; "I am not
angry: you beat me because you loved me.... I shan't forget that!"
She looked at him fixedly, gave a little shudder, and lowering her
voice, repeated--
"No, I shan't forget that in a hurry."
Vassili gave to these words a meaning agreeable to himself; they seemed
to cause him pleasant emotion, for he smiled, and said with a stupid
self-satisfied expression--
"How do you mean? tell me."
"You'll see!" replied Malva quietly, but her lips trembled.
"Ah! my little jewel!" cried Vassili, crushing her in his arms.
"And, do you know, since I have beaten you I love you twice as much;
you are all the dearer to me.... You seem to belong to me all the
more...."
The gulls flew round them. The breeze from the sea threw up at their
feet the foam from the waves, and the ceaseless ripple seemed to speak
of peace.
"Ah! life! life!..." (Vassili dreamily caressed the girl, as she lay
in his arms.) "This is ever the way of the world: what is forbidden
is always pleasant ... Perhaps you don't know; but I sometimes think
about life, and then I am frightened. Especially at night, when I can't
sleep.... In front of me stretches the sea, above me is the sky, and
all around me is terrifying darkness! And I am alone. And then I seem
to grow small, so small, and the ground seems to rock under me, and it
seems as if there were no one on the earth but myself! If I only had
you at those moments ... at least we should be two together."
Malva, with closed eyes, was lying across Vassili's knees; and she
remained silent The rough open face of the peasant, tanned by the wind
and the sun, was bent towards her, and his beard touched lightly her
neck. The girl did not move, only her bosom rose and fell. Vassili's
eyes wandered over the sea, and from time to time glanced at Malva's
bosom which lay there so near him. And he went on telling her how
lonely he was, living here alone, and how painful were his sleepless
nights, filled with dark thoughts about life. Then he kissed her mouth
slowly, and with the sort of noise that he would have made when eating
a warm thick soup. They remained there perhaps three hours, and when
the sun began to go down into the sea, Vassili said in a tone of
annoyance--
"I must go and boil the water for tea ... our guest will soon be awake."
Malva walked away with the indolent gesture of a languorous kitten,
and Vassili rose regretfully and went towards the hut. Between her
half-closed eyelids the girl watched him as he walked away, and she
sighed, as those sigh who have bent too long under a heavy burden. An
hour went by; the three had met round the fire, and were drinking tea
and chatting.
The sun was already staining the sea with the deep tones of sunset,
and under the magic touch of its rays the green waves had just clothed
themselves in purple and tender rose-pink.
Vassili, as he drank his tea from a white china cup, questioned his son
about the country, and exchanged recollections. Malva, without taking
part in the conversation, listened to their slowly-uttered questions
and answers.
"The peasants are still able then to make a living?"
"Yes, they get along somehow," answered Jakoff.
"We don't want much, we peasants. A house, enough bread, and on
feast-days a glass of vodka.... Yes, but we don't even get that ...
Should I have gone away if I could have lived at home? In the village
I am my own master, the equal of any one, but here I am a servant."
"But on the other hand you are not so often hungry here, and work is
less hard."
"Don't say that There are days here when ones bones feel as if they
were being crushed.... And then here, one is working for others, whilst
there one works for oneself."
"But here one earns more," replied quietly Jakoff. In his own mind
Vassili admitted the truth of his son's argument Life was of course
harder in the village than it was here; but he was displeased that
Jakoff should notice it And he added in a severe tone--
"What do you know about what is earned here? In the village ..."
"It's like a narrow dark prison," said Malva sarcastically. "And the
woman's life there especially, is nothing but tears."
"The woman's life is everywhere the same, and light is everywhere the
same, and so is the sun!" said Vassili coldly.
"That's what you think!" cried Malva excitedly. "In the village,
whether I wished it or not I should have to marry. And a woman once
married is for ever a slave. She must weave and spin, and look after
the animals, and bring children into the world. What is there left for
her herself? Nothing but blows and abuse from her husband."
"That's not true, that she gets nothing but blows," replied Vassili.
"Whilst I, here," she continued, without listening to him, "I belong to
no one. I am as free as a seagull! I fly wherever pleases me. No one
can stop me, and no one can interfere with me."
"And if any one were to interfere with you?" said Vassili, amused with
the allusion which he understood.
"Well, they would have to pay for it," she replied softly.
And she dropped her eyelids over her blazing eyes.
Vassili laughed an indulgent laugh.
"Oh! you, you are both bold and weak! You talk like a woman. In the
village woman is a necessity of life, whilst here she is one of its
pleasures."
And after a few moments' silence he added--
"And one of its sins."
Jakoff, when they had finished their conversation, said with a dreamy
sigh--
"The sea looks as if it stretched away for ever and ever."
All three looked out over the limitless expanse.
"Ah! if only all that were earth!" exclaimed the lad, stretching out
his arms, "good black earth!... and if only we could plough it!"
"Ah! that's right!" said his father good-humouredly.
By his gesture he approved of his son, standing there, flushed with the
burning desire that he had just expressed. It was pleasant to him to
hear these words, to witness this love for the earth; and he thought
that perhaps this same love might recall Jakoff imperiously back to the
village, far from temptations. He himself could then remain with Malva,
and all would go well as it used to do....
"Yes, Jakoff", that's the way a peasant ought to speak. "That's the way
a peasant should think. The peasant's only strength is in the land;
as long as he has land he can live; but if he tears himself away from
the land it's all up with him. The peasant without land is like a tree
without roots; one can use it for all sorts of purposes, but it has no
life ... it is rotting. And it no longer possesses the beauty of the
woods; it is hewn and cut about; it has quite a different look. Yes,
Jakoff, you spoke then some true words."
And the sea, receiving into its bosom the sun, welcomed it with the
musical ripple of waves all tinted with the glory of sunset hues.
"It seems to me that my soul melts as I watch the sun setting....
That's the effect it has on me!" said Vassili to Malva.
She was silent Jakoff's blue eyes were searching the distance, far
out over the sea. For some time the three watched pensively the last
minutes of the day fading away. The embers died down under the iron
pot Already night stretched its shadows across the sky. The yellow
sands grew dark, the gulls had disappeared. All seemed peaceful, dreamy
and charming. Even the indefatigable waves running up over the sand
seemed quieter and less joyful than during the day.
"Why am I still here?" said Malva. "I must be going."
Vassili became restless; he watched his son.
"Why are you in such a hurry?" he asked in a vexed voice. "Wait a few
minutes longer; the moon will soon be up...."
"What do I want with the moon? I'm not frightened.... It won't be the
first time I have left here at night."
Jakoff looked at his father, and in order to hide the mockery in his
eyes, he closed them; then he glanced at Malva; she also was watching
him, and it made him feel uncomfortable.
"All right, be off with you!" said the old man in a cross voice.
She rose, said good-bye, and walked away slowly along the shore.
The waves running up close to her feet looked as if they wished to
play with her. Above in the heavens those little golden flowers--the
stars--were peeping forth tremblingly. Malva's light-coloured blouse
seemed to fade away in the dusk as she walked further and further away
from Vassili and his son.
"Come quickly, my well-beloved,
And rest on my bosom!"
sang Malva in a loud clear voice.
It seemed to Vassili that she stopped and waited. He spat angrily, and
thought to himself--
"She is doing that on purpose to provoke me, the little devil!"
"Ah! that's all right Now she is singing," said Jakoff.
She only appeared now as a grey spot in the dusk.
"My breasts, they are like Two white swans ..."
Her voice rang out over the sea.
"Ah!" sighed Jakoff.
And he bent forward his body to listen to the words of temptation.
"It would seem you have not been successful on the land?" came the
thick stern voice of Vassili.
Jakoff, astonished, glanced at him, and then took up his former
attitude.
Half-drowned in the noise of the waves, the provoking words of the song
were wafted in scattered fragments.
"Ah! how can I sleep alone,
All alone ... this night?..."
"How hot it is," said Vassili mournfully, rolling over on the sand.
"The night has come, but it's still hot! Ah! cursed country."
"It's the sand ... which stores up the heat of the day," said Jakoff,
walking slowly away.
"What's the matter?... I don't see where the joke is!" said his father
severely.
"I?" said Jakoff simply. "What should I joke about?"
"That's just it; there is nothing to joke about."
They were silent.
And above the sound of the waves there seemed to float towards them a
blending of sighs and of tender appeals.
CHAPTER II
A fortnight afterwards, and Sunday had come round again, and once more
Vassili Legostev, stretched on the sand near his hut, was watching the
sea and waiting for Malva. And the vast sea smiled and played with
the sun-rays, and tens of thousands of ripples ran quivering over the
sands, leaving there the foam from their crests, and returning to melt
once more into the sea. But Vassili, who formerly used to await the
arrival of his mistress in peaceful security, awaited her now with
impatience.... Last Sunday she did not come; to-day she would surely
not fail him. He had scarcely a doubt on the subject; but he desired to
see her quickly. Jakoff was not here to be in the way; the day before
yesterday, when passing with some other fishermen to fetch a net, he
had said that he was going into the town on Sunday to buy himself some
shirts. He had taken a job at fifteen roubles a month. For several days
now he had been working as a fisherman; he appeared to be bright and
happy. He reeked, as did the other fishermen, of smoked fish, and like
the others he was ragged and dirty. Vassili sighed when he thought of
his son.
"If he will only keep straight!... If he goes wrong, there'll be no
getting him back to the village ... and I myself will have to go."
There was nothing to be seen on the sea but the gulls. At the spot
where it was divided from the sky by the narrow sandy streak of the
shore-line, there appeared now and again little black specks which
moved backwards and forwards, and then disappeared. But no boat
was to be seen, although it was already noon; the sun's rays shone
perpendicularly on the sea.
Two gulls were struggling in the air, and fought so desperately that
their feathers flew out on all sides. Their wild cries disturbed the
joyful song of the waves, which in its constancy, and uniformity with
the triumphant peace of the dazzling sky, seemed to be called forth
by the play of light on the surface of the ocean. The gulls fell into
the sea, where they continued to struggle and scream fiercely in their
fury and pain; then they rose once more into the air in pursuit of
each other ... heir friends--a whole flock of them--untroubled by the
contemplation of this sorry struggle, continued to catch fish, and to
turn somersaults in the transparent green sparkling water ...
Vassili watched the gulls, and grew sad. "Why were they fighting? Were
there not enough fish in the water for all?... Men also seemed to try
to prevent each other from living. If one of them chose some dainty,
another would want to tear it from his throat Why? There is enough
for everybody in life. Why take from a man what he has already got?
Generally, these sort of quarrels are started about women. Some man has
a woman, whom another man wants to take away, and he tries to attract
her to him. Why steal a woman from a man, when there are so many free
women in the world, who belong to no one? It's all wrong, and leads to
disorder...."
Still nothing appeared on the surface of the sea. There was no sign of
the little black well-known speck.
"You are not coming then?" said Vassili out loud. "All right, I don't
want you!... You needn't think I do!..."
And he spat contemptuously in the direction of the shore.
The sea laughed.
Vassili rose and went towards the hut with the intention of cooking
his dinner, though he had no sensation of hunger; he went back to his
former place, and lay down again.
"If only Sereja would come!" he cried to himself; and he tried to think
only of Sereja....
"What a poisonous lad it was though!... He was strong, knew how to
read, had travelled ... but he was a drunkard. There was no being dull
with him ... women were mad about him, and although he had only been
here a short time they were all running after him. Only Malva seemed to
keep clear of him; she doesn't seem to be coming after all.... Devil
take the girl! Perhaps she is angry with me for having beaten her? ...
But it could have been nothing new for her. Others must have knocked
her about ... And it won't be the last beating she gets from me."
Divided thus between thoughts of his son, of Sereja, and most often of
Malva, Vassili tossed about on the sand, and waited. Vague disquietude
turned into suspicion, but on this he would not allow himself to dwell.
He hid from himself his distrust. He got through his time till the
evening, sometimes rising and walking backwards and forwards on the
sand, sometimes lying down again. He was still watching in the hopes of
seeing the boat, when the surface of the sea began to darken.
But Malva did not come on that Sunday either. And as he lay down to
sleep, Vassili cursed his work, which prevented his going to the
mainland, and he awoke constantly with a start, thinking he heard in
the distance the sound of oars. Then he would shield his eyes with his
hand and watch the troubled dark sea. Over there, where the fishery
was established, two fires burnt, but no one was coming over the sea.
"It's all very well, my girl!" said Vassili threateningly. And he went
off into a heavy sleep.
What had happened at the fishery during that day was this. Jakoff rose
early before the sun was up, and whilst a fresh, life-giving breeze
was blowing from the sea. He walked from the hut towards the water in
order to get a wash, and on the shore he saw Malva. She was seated in
the bows of a big boat which was anchored close in to the shore, whilst
with her bare feet hanging over the sides, she was combing out her wet
hair.
Jakoff stopped, and watched her with curiosity.
Her cotton blouse open in front half showed one of her shoulders; and
this shoulder looked so white, so tempting!
The waves rocked the boat, and Malva rose and fell with its movements,
so that her bare feet almost at times touched the water.
"I say! Have you been bathing?" called out Jakoff.
She turned her face towards him, glanced at her feet; then continuing
to comb her hair, she replied--
"Yes, I've been bathing.... But why did you get up so early?"
"Well, you are up early too!"
"I'm not here to set you an example."
Jakoff did not reply.
"If you follow my way of living, you will have to look out for
yourself!" she continued.
"Oh! how you frighten me!" said Jakoff chaffingly.
Then stooping down over the water he began to wash himself. With the
palms of his hands held close together, he scooped up the water, threw
it over his face, and then shook himself as he experienced the crisp
fresh sensation of cold. Wiping himself with the edge of his shirt, he
said to Malva--"Why do you always try and frighten me?"
"And you, why do you try and gobble me up with your eyes?"
Jakoff could not remember that, he had looked at her more than at other
women at the fishery, but now he said to her suddenly--
"It's because you are so ... tempting!"
"If your father hears of your goings on, he'll give you something to
tempt you!"
She threw a provoking sly glance at him. Jakoff burst out laughing,
and climbed into the boat He did not know what "goings on" she was
referring to; but as she said so, he must of course have been running
after her. And this thought made him feel suddenly quite lively.
"What has my father got to do with me?" said he, as he sat down by her
in the boat "Has he bought you for himself? Eh?"
Seated by her side he contemplated her bare shoulder, her
half-uncovered bosom, her whole strong, fresh figure smelling of the
sea.
"What a fine white sort of sturgeon, you are!" he exclaimed with
admiration, as the outcome of a minute inspection.
"Possibly; but not for you!" she said, without moving or changing her
rather indiscreet attitude.
Jakoff sighed.
In front of them stretched, beneath the morning rays of the sun, the
boundless sea. Little playful waves, born of the breath of the wind,
washed softly against the boat. Far away, in the distance, the cape
stretched out into the sea. At its extreme end, against the soft blue
of the sky could be seen a slender, tall mast, at the top of which
fluttered a red rag.
"Yes, my lad," continued Malva, without looking at Jakoff; "I may be
tempting, but not for you.... And let me tell you, no one has bought
me, I am not the property of your father. I live for myself. So it's no
use running after me, because I don't intend to come between you and
Vassili.... I don't want quarrels or wrangling of any sort ... Do you
understand?"
"But what have I done?" asked Jakoff, surprised. "I don't touch you;
I'm not running after you."
"You don't dare to touch me!" said Malva.
She spoke so disdainfully that the man, the human male within him,
seemed in revolt A feeling of almost wicked defiance seized him, and
his eyes flashed.
"Oh! I don't dare?... don't I?" he cried, going nearer to her.
"No, you don't dare!"
"And if I touch you?"
"Just try it!"
"What would you do?"
"I would give you such a good smack over the head, that you would fall
into the water!"
"We'll see!"
"Touch me, if you dare!"
He swept her with a rapid hot glance, and then flung his strong thick
arms round her, crushing her body against his own.
As he felt her warm, strong flesh pressed against his own, his blood
became fired, his throat contracted as if he were choking.
"Well! strike me now! What are you waiting for?"
"Let me go, Jakoff," she said quietly, trying to loosen his throbbing
arms.
"What about the smack over the head you were going to give me?"
"Let me go! If not ... look out for yourself!"
"It's all very well to threaten; but you're a little darling!"
He drew her closer towards himself, and pressed his thick lips against
her flushed cheek.
She burst out into defiant laughter, seized Jakoff's arms, and
suddenly, with a strong movement of her whole body, flung herself
forward. They fell, both of them clinging together, forming one heavy
mass, and disappeared in the spurting white foam. Then from the
troubled water emerged Jakoff's wet head, and by his side rose, like a
seagull, Malva. Jakoff was struggling desperately, striking the water,
spluttering and shouting, whilst Malva screamed joyfully, swimming
round him and tossing salt water into his face, then diving to avoid
the vigorous strokes of his swinging arms.
"The devil!" cried Jakoff, breathing hard. "I shall be drowned! That's
enough now!... I swear I'm drowning.... Ah! I am sinking!"
But she had left him, and was swimming towards the shore with strong
strokes like those of a man. Once there, she sprang lightly into the
boat, and stood up in the bows watching, laughingly, Jakoff, who was
paddling rapidly towards her. His wet clothes, sticking to his body
showed his supple figure from the shoulder to the knee, and Jakoff,
when he had caught hold of the boat, coveted this dripping, half-naked
girl, who was so gaily making fun of him.
"Well! you half-drowned seal! Get out of the water!" she cried, between
her fits of laughter.
And kneeling down she stretched out a hand to him, whilst with the
other she held on to the boat.
Jakoff caught hold of her hand, and cried exultingly--
"Wait a minute! Now I'm going to give you a bath!"
He pulled her towards him, remaining himself in the water up to his
shoulders. The waves passed over his head, and breaking against the
boat, splashed Malva in the face. She laughed, and suddenly with a
shout she jumped into the water; the shock made Jakoff lose his footing.
And once more they started playing like two great fish in the green
sea, throwing water over each other, shouting, gasping, spluttering and
diving.
The sun laughed as it watched them, and the panes of glass in the
fish-curing building laughed also, as they reflected the sun. The
water resounded under the heavy strokes of their strong arms, whilst
the gulls, scared by the plungings and stragglings of these two human
beings, flew with piercing screams over their heads, which from time to
time were lost sight of under the quickly-rolling waves.
Tired out at last, and drenched with salt water, they scrambled on to
the shore, and sat down in the sun to rest.
"Ouf!" cried Jakoff, making a face. "That water is horrible! And what a
lot there is of it!
"There is always plenty of what is bad ... boys, for example ... there
are plenty of them!"
Malva was laughing and wringing out her hair, from which the water was
dripping; her hair was dark and curly, but not very long.
"That's why you have chosen an old man!" hinted Jakoff, nudging her
with his elbow.
"Some of the old fellows are worth more than the young ones."
"If the father is good, the son ought to be better."
"Indeed?... Where did you get your conceit from?"
"The girls in the village always told me that I was not half a
bad-looking fellow...."
"What do the girls know about it?... You ought to have asked me."
"And arn't you a girl?"
She looked at him hard; an insulting smile was on his lips. Then she
became serious, and said to him with anger in her voice--
"I was so once, before I had a child."
"Better said than done!" said Jakoff, bursting out laughing.
"Fool!" replied Malva curtly.
She walked away from him.
Jakoff, who felt nervous, remained silent.
For half-an-hour or more they did not speak, but moved about in the sun
drying their clothes.
The workers were beginning to emerge from the long line of dirty
workmen's huts. In the distance they all looked strangely alike, all
in rags and barefoot.... The sound of their hoarse voices was carried
across the beach; one of them was striking on an empty barrel, and the
tones seemed to be repeated; it sounded almost like the rattle of a
drum. Two women were wrangling in piercing tones; dogs barked.
"They are beginning to move," said Jakoff. "And I wanted to be off
early to the town! I have been losing my time with you...."
"You'll never do any good while you are after me!" she said in a tone
that was half playful half serious.
"What a way you have of frightening people," said Jakoff.
"You'll see, when your father ..."
This reminder of his father vexed him.
"What about my father?" he exclaimed roughly. "My father indeed! I'm
not a boy! ... What are you talking about?... We are not in a convent
here.... I'm not blind.... And he's not such a saint, after all; and he
doesn't deny himself anything.... He'd better leave me alone."
She watched him mockingly, and asked him with curiosity--
"Leave you alone?... What are you thinking of doing then?"
"I?" (He puffed out his cheeks, and distended his chest, as if he were
about to lift a weight). "I have plenty of ideas in my head; I have
shaken the dust of the village off my feet."
"It hasn't taken long to do that!" cried Malva, still mockingly.
"I'll get you away from my father!... you'll see if I don't!"
"Will you indeed?"
"You think that I daren't?"
"You don't say so?"
"Look here!" he began in an excited, furious voice. "Don't dare me to
do it! I ..."
"What again?" she asked indifferently.
"Oh! never mind!"
Then he turned away with the look of a smart, resolute boy.
"How plucky you are! The inspector has a little black dog, have you
seen it? it's like you. When he is far away, he barks, and threatens to
bite, but when one goes near him, he puts his tail between his legs and
runs away!"
"All right!" cried Jakoff in a rage. "Just wait a minute, and you'll
see what I'll do!"
She laughed up into his face.
There came towards them with a slow, loitering step a young
bronzed-face fellow, with well-strung muscles, and an abundant thatch
of bright red hair. His red shirt, hanging loose, was tom at the back
nearly to the neck, and in order to keep his sleeves in place he had
rolled them up above the elbow. His trousers were a mass of holes, he
was barefooted. His freckled face was lighted up by a pair of blue
eyes, wide open and impertinent; and a big turned-up nose gave to his
whole face a look of cheekiness, not to say arrogance. When he had
joined the couple, he stopped, whilst his whole body, which seemed
apparent everywhere through his elementary costume, shone in the
sunlight, he sneezed loudly, contemplated them a few moments, and then
made a quaint grimace.
"Yesterday Sereja was drinking, and to-day Sereja's pocket is empty....
Lend me twenty kopecks! I shall not return them."
Jakoff gasped as he listened to this rapidly delivered speech; Malva
smiled as she examined the tatterdemalion.
"Damn it all I give them to me! I will marry you for twenty kopecks, if
you like?"
"You scarecrow! Are you a pope?"
"Fool! At Ouglitch I was servant to a pope.... Give me twenty kopecks."
"I don't want to get married," said Jakoff. "Never mind; give all the
same. I won't tell your father that you are running after his girl,"
continued Sereja, licking his dry, cracked lips.
"Do you think, that he'd believe you?"
"When I take the trouble to talk, I am generally believed," asserted
Sereja. "And you'd catch it from him!"
"I'm not afraid!" said Jakoff.
"Then you'd catch it from me!" Sereja announced, narrowing his eyes as
he spoke.
Jakoff did not want to give twenty kopecks, but he had been warned that
he must look out where Sereja was concerned, and must put up with some
of his fancies. It was not much he asked for, but if it was refused he
would give you trouble during working-hours, or else he would beat you.
So with a sigh Jakoff put his hand in his pocket.
"That's right!" said Sereja, in a tone of encouragement ; and he threw
himself on the sand by the side of them. "It's always wiser to obey
me.... And you?" he said to Malva. "When are you going to marry me? I
am not going to wait much longer."
"You are too ragged. Mend all those holes first, and we'll talk about
it afterwards!" replied Malva.
Sereja considered the holes critically, and shook his head.
"Give me one of your petticoats, that will be the best thing."
"Yes, that would be the thing!" said Malva, laughing.
"Give me one; you must have an old one?"
"You really ought to buy yourself some trousers."
"I would rather drink the money that they would cost."
"That's the best thing to do!" said Jakoff.
He was still holding in his hand the twenty kopecks.
"The pope says that a man should not only think of his skin, but of his
soul. And my soul calls for vodka, and not for a pair of trousers. Give
me the money; I shall get a drink ... and I won't say anything to your
father."
"Tell him what you like," cried Jakoff.
And he winked with a self-satisfied look at Malva, and nudged her with
his elbow.
Sereja, noticing his actions, spat and said in a more positive tone--
"I shan't forget to beat you; no fear of that! at the first
opportunity!... And you won't forget it either!"
"But why?" asked Jakoff, disquieted.
"That's my business!... Well! and when are you going to marry me,
Malva?"
"First tell me what we shall do, and how we shall live. Then I will
think about it ..." she replied seriously.
Sereja watched the sea, screwed up his eyes, and after licking his
lips, said--
"We should do nothing but wander about in the world."
"And how should we manage to live?"
"Bah!" said Sereja, with a despondent gesture. "You argue just like my
mother. 'How? What?' Women are so tiresome! How do I know? I'm going
off to have a drink...."
He rose and walked off; Malva watching him with a strange smile on her
lips, and the young man with an angry look on his face.
"What a boaster!" said Jakoff, when Sereja had gone some distance. "At
home, in the village, he would soon be put in his place. He would have
got a good lesson before now. But here, they seem frightened of him...."
Malva stared at Jakoff, and said between her teeth--
"You don't know the worth of him!"
"What is there to know?... Ten a penny, that's what he's worth!"
"That's all you know!" cried Malva, mockingly. "That's what you are
worth!... But he, he has been everywhere, he has wandered all round the
world, and he fears no one."
"And I, who do I fear?" said Jakoff, blusteringly. She did not answer
him; she followed with her eyes the play of the waves, as they swung
the heavy boat backwards and forwards. The mast inclined sometimes to
the right and sometimes to the left, and the bows rose, and then fell,
striking the water. The noise it made was violent, and seemed almost
angry, as if the boat wished to tear itself away from the shore, and
float out and away into the wide free sea, and was vexed with the cable
which prevented its doing so.
"Why don't you go?" Malva asked Jakoff.
"Where should I go?" he replied.
"You were going to the town."
"I shan't go."
"Then go and see your father."
"And you?"
"What about me?"
"Will you come too?"
"No."
"Then I shan't go either."
"Shall you stay tied to my apron-strings all day?" she asked.
"I don't want you as much as all that," he replied offended.
And he rose and left her.
But he made a mistake when he said that he did not need her. He was
bored when she was not near. A strange sentiment seemed to have taken
possession of him since their conversation, an obscure desire to
protest against his hither, a sort of hidden discontent Yesterday he
did not remember having this feeling; nor did he have it to-day before
he had seen Malva. And now it seemed to him that his father was in his
way, although he was far away out there, on a stretch of sand, almost
lost to view.... Then it seemed to him that Malva was afraid of his
father; if she had not been afraid, their conversation would have been
quite different Now he seemed to want her, though this morning he had
not been thinking about her.
He wandered about on the beach, watching with a melancholy eye the
passers-by, speaking to them sometimes in a listless voice.... Here in
the shade of a boat he finds Sereja seated on a barrel. He is thrumming
the cords of a balalaika, and singing, accompanying his song with
quaint grimaces--
"Kind constable,
Be gentle with me.
Take me to the police-station,
For I'm afraid of falling into the mud."
A dozen workmen, as tattered as he is, surround him, and all like him
smell of salt fish and of saltpetre. Four dirty ugly women, stretched
on the sand not far from the group, are drinking tea, which they
prepare in a great iron saucepan. And a workman, already drunk, though
it is still early in the morning, tries to get on his legs and falls
down again. A woman laughs and cries; some one plays on a broken
accordion; everywhere there is the sparkle of fish-scales.
At noon Jakoff found a sheltered place between the piles of empty
barrels, lay down there and slept till the evening. When he woke up
he wandered about without any fixed plan, though he seemed vaguely
attracted by something unknown.
After two hours' walking about, he found Malva some way from the
fishery, under the shade of some young willow trees. She was lying on
her side, and held in her hand a well-thumbed book; with a smile she
watched Jakoff approach.
"Ah! this is where you have got to," he said, seating himself by her
side.
"Have you been looking for me a long time?" she asked, with some degree
of assurance.
"Looking for you? What an idea!..." said Jakoff, perceiving suddenly
that this was exactly the truth.
Ever since the morning till now, he had, without knowing it, been
looking for her. He shook his head with surprise.
"Can you read?" he asked her.
"Yes ... but badly, I have forgotten everything."
"So have I.... Did you go to school?"
"Yes, the municipal school."
"And I taught myself."
"Did you really?"
"Yes, I was cook at Astrachan, in a lawyer's house, and his son taught
me to read."
"Then you didn't learn by yourself!" She continued--"Shouldn't you like
to read books?"
"No.... What should I want to read for?"
"Oh! I should like so much to read!... Look here.... I asked the
inspector's wife to lend me this book, and I am reading it."
"What is it?"
"The story of the saint Alexis, a man of God." And in a serious voice
she told him how a young lad, the son of rich and noble parents, had
left them, had turned his back on all happiness, and finally had
returned, a beggar and in rags, and lived in the kennel with the dogs,
without telling any one till his last hour who he was. She ended by
asking Jakoff in a low voice--
"Why did he act in this way?"
"Who can tell?" replied Jakoff with indifference. They were surrounded
by little hillocks of sand, collected by the winds and the waves. A
confused dull noise came round from the direction of the fishery. The
setting sun shed on the shore the ruddy reflection of its rays. The
delicate willows thrilled with the sea-breeze through every one of
their pale green leaves.
Malva sat silent as if listening.
"Why did you not go over there to-day, to the cape?" asked Jakoff
"What's that to you?"
Jakoff plucked a leaf and chewed it between his teeth. He watched the
girl furtively, not knowing quite how to speak what he wanted to say.
"It's like this; when I am all alone, and it's so nice and quiet, I
want either to sing or cry all the time. Only I don't know any good
songs, and I am ashamed to cry."
Jakoff listened to the melodious, caressing voice; but her words, far
from touching him, only intensified his desire.
"Listen," he said to her in a thick voice, and moving nearer to her.
"Listen to what I am going to say to you.... I am young ..."
"And stupid, very stupid!" said Malva, shaking her head.
"Well grant that," said Jakoff, becoming suddenly animated. "Why should
one be clever?... I am stupid; all right! Now I am going to ask you.
Will you ..."
"You needn't say any more.... I won't...."
"Why?"
"Because."
"Don't be stupid" (and he took hold of her gently by the shoulders).
"Do you understand?"
"Get along with you, Jakoff!" she cried out in a severe tone, shaking
herself loose from him. "Get away with you!"
"If that's all, I don't care! You're not the only woman here.... You
seem to think that you're better than the others."
"You are just like a silly little dog," she replied.
And she rose and shook the dust from her skirts.
And they walked back side by side to the fishery. They walked slowly,
for the sand was heavy.
Suddenly, when they were near the huts, Jakoff stopped, and seizing
Malva roughly by the arm, said--
"It's on purpose then that you excite me?... Why do you do it?"
"Let me alone, will you?"
She escaped from him, and ran off, whilst from a corner of the huts
Sereja appeared. He shook his wild unkempt head of hair, and said
threateningly--
"You two have been carrying on ... all right!"
"Go to the devil!" cried Malva.
Jakoff had planted himself opposite Sereja, and was trying to stare
him out of countenance. They were about ten paces from each other, and
Sereja was staring straight into Jakoff's eyes. They remained thus for
about a minute, like two rams ready to butt one another, then each
walked off without a word in an opposite direction.
The sea was calm and ruddy with the hues of the setting sun. A
woman was singing in a drunken voice with hysterical cadences some
meaningless words--
"Ta-agarga, matargarga,
Matanichka my own,
Drunken and beaten
And wild."
And these filthy and meaningless words seemed to fill the air all round
the huts, from which arose exhalations of salt and of rotting fish;
they filled the air, and destroyed the delicious music of the waves
which floated all around.
CHAPTER III
In the pure light of dawn the sea slumbered softly, reflecting the
pearly clouds. At the cape, the half-awakened fishermen were moving
about arranging the nets in the boats.
This every-day work was executed rapidly and in silence. The grey mass
of the nets seemed to crawl from the sand into the boats, where it lay
heaped at the bottom.
Sereja, as usual bare-headed and scantily clothed, was in the bows,
shouting directions about the work in a hoarse voice, that betrayed
last night's over-indulgence in vodka. The wind played with his ragged
clothing, and his unkempt hair.
"Vassili, where are the green oars?" cried some one.
Vassili, as gloomy as a late autumn day, was arranging the net in the
boat, and Sereja was watching him from behind. He was licking his lips,
which meant that he was thirsty, and wanted a drink.
"Have you got any vodka?" he asked.
"Yes," muttered Vassili.
"All right! then I shall stay on dry land."
"All aboard?" they called out from the cape.
"Shove her off!" ordered Sereja, as he got out of the boat "Off you
go!... I stay behind. Look out there!... Full ahead into the open, so
as not to tangle the net ... and tell it out carefully. Don't make any
knots.... Go ahead!"
They pushed off the boat; the fishermen climbed in, and each taking an
oar, raised them in the air, ready for the word of command.
"One!"
The oars struck the water together; the boat swept forward into the
vast plane of glistening water.
"Two!" sang out the steersman.
And like the legs of an enormous tortoise the oars moved in the
rowlocks.
"One!...' Two!..."
On the shore, at the dry end of the nets, there remained five
men--Sereja, Vassili, and three others. One of the three stretched
himself on the sand, and said--
"We might perhaps get a nap."
The two others followed his example, and three ragged bodies threw
themselves down in a heap.
"Why did you not come Sunday?" Vassili asked Sereja, as he led him
towards the hut.
"I couldn't come."
"You were drunk?"
"No, I was watching your son and his mother-in-law," said Sereja,
unmoved.
"That's new sort of work for you," said Vassili, with a constrained
smile. "After all, they are not children!"
"They are worse; one is a fool, and the other is mad."
"Is it Malva who is the mad one?" asked Vassili.
And his eyes shone with sad anger.
"That's it!"
"Since when?"
"She has always been mad. She has, brother Vassili, a soul which does
not fit her body. Can you understand that?"
"It's not difficult to understand!... Her soul is vile."
Sereja glanced obliquely at him, and replied with an accent of
contempt--
"Vile? Oh! you earth-grubbers!... you!... you understand nothing of
life. All you want in a woman is great fat bosoms; her temperament does
not matter to you in the least But it's in the temperament that one
finds all the colour of a human being. A woman without temperament is
like bread without salt Can you get any pleasure out of a balalaika
without strings? You dog!"
"It's yesterday's wine that makes you talk so well!" Interjected
Vassili.
He longed to know where and how Sereja had seen Malva and Jakoff the
day before, but a feeling of shame prevented him from asking. In the
hut he poured out a full glass of vodka for Sereja, in the hope that
the fellow might get drunk and would himself tell him all, without
waiting to be questioned. But Sereja drank, coughed, and, as if
refreshed, sat down at the open door, stretching himself and yawning.
"Drinking is like swallowing fire," he said.
"At all events, you know how to drink!" replied Vassili, astonished
with the rapidity with which Sereja had swallowed the vodka.
"Ah! yes," said the other, shaking his tawny head; he wiped his
moustache with the back of his hand, and began talking in a confident,
didactic tone--"I know how to drink, brother! I do everything short and
quick, that's all about it!... Make no mistake, I go straight ahead!...
It doesn't matter what happens!... If you start from the ground, you
can only fall on the ground...."
"I thought you were going into the Caucasus?" questioned Vassili, who
was trying carefully to work round towards his object.
"Yes, I shall go when I want to. When I have quite made up my mind....
Then I go straight ahead: one, two! and it's done.... Either I
succeed, or else I come a cropper.... It's all as plain as a pikestaff."
"Yes, very plain; you might as well have no brain." Sereja continued in
a mocking tone--
"And you, who are so intelligent!... How many times have you been
beaten with birch-rods in the village?"
Vassili glanced at him and remained silent "Very often I should
think.... And it's a capital idea of your village authorities to drive
wisdom upwards, from down below.... And you, what can you do with
your brain? Where would you go? What would you invent? Say! Whereas
I, without bothering myself about anything, I go straight ahead, and
there's an end of it. And I believe I shall go further than you."
"It's possible," Vassili agreed. "Perhaps you will even go as far as
Siberia...."
"Ah! no fear!"
And Sereja burst into a frank laugh.
In spite of Vassili's hope, Sereja did not lose his head; and that
vexed the elder man, who would not offer him a second glass; but Sereja
himself solved the difficulty.
"Why don't you ask me news of Malva?"
"What can it matter to me?" said Vassili indifferently, although he
felt a secret presentiment. "As she did not come here on Sunday, you
ought to inquire what she was up to. I know you are jealous, you old
devil!"
"There are plenty like her," said Vassili carelessly.
"Many indeed!" said Sereja, imitating him. "Ah! you brutal peasants!
Whether you get honey or tar it's all the same to you!"
"What do you want to praise her up for? Have you come to offer her to
me in marriage? But I married her long ago on my own account!" said
Vassili.
Sereja looked at him, was silent a moment, and then placing his hand on
Vassili's shoulder began speaking to him seriously.
"I know that ... I know very well what she is with you. I did not get
in your way.... I neither tried to get her nor wanted her. But now
this Jakoff, your son, is hanging round her all day; beat him till
you make the blood come; do you hear me? If not, it's I who will do
the beating.... You are a strong fellow, although you are a regular
fool.... But just remember this, I never got in your way."
"That's what's the matter then! It's you now who are in love with her?"
Vassili questioned, in a thick voice.
"Get along with you; if I were sure of myself I would have kicked you
all out of the way long ago! But what could I want with her?"
"Then why are you meddling?"
Sereja opened his eyes wide and laughed.
"Why am I meddling?... The devil only knows.... She's a woman, and a
spicy one. She pleases me. Or, perhaps, I pity her...."
Vassili felt uncomfortable. He realized by the frank laughter of Sereja
that the lad was sincere, and that he was not himself running after
Malva. But he said--
"If she were a virtuous girl one might pity her. But as it is ... it
seems rather queer, doesn't it?" The other man did not answer; he
watched the boat making a circle, and turning its bows towards land.
Sereja's ruddy face wore an open, good, and simple expression.
As he watched him, Vassili's feelings grew softer.
"You are right, she is a good woman ... she is only light-hearted; I
shall have something to say to Jakoff, the young dog!"
"I can't stand him.... He smells of the village, and that's a smell I
can't put up with!" Sereja declared.
"Is he running after her?" Vassili asked between his teeth, whilst he
stroked his beard.
"I should rather think so! You'll see, he'll put himself between you
two like a wall."
"I would not advise him to try!"
Far out over the sea the rosy rays of the morning sun opened out
fan-shaped, as the sun rose from the gilded water. Over the noise of
the waves a faint cry came from the boat "Heave!... Ahoy!..
"Up with you, lads! Give way with the rope!" cried Sereja, jumping
to his feet And soon all the five were hauling at their end of the
net There stretched from the water to the shore a long rope, supple
and vibrating, at which the fishermen, holding on to the extreme end,
pulled and shouted.
The other end of the net was being drawn ashore by the boat which
glided through the waves, whilst the mast as it swung from side to
side seemed to cut the air to right and left The sun, brilliant and
dazzling, shed its beams across the sea.
"When you see Jakoff, tell him to come and see me to-morrow," said
Vassili to Sereja.
"All right!"
The boat ran up on the beach, and the fishermen, jumping on to the
sand, pulled up their end of the net The two groups were gradually
merged one in the other, whilst the cork floats, bobbing about on the
waves, showed a regular outline in the water.
CHAPTER IV
Very late, the evening of the same day, when the work-people at the
fisheries had finished their supper, Malva, tired and dreamy, had
seated herself on a broken, upturned boat, and was watching the
sea, over which twilight was gradually falling. Out yonder a fire
was burning, and Malva knew that it was Vassili who had lit it Half
hidden and solitary in the sombre distance, the flame flashed up every
now and then, and then died down as if crushed. And Malva felt sad
as she watched this red spot, abandoned in the waste of waters, and
palpitating feebly amidst the ceaseless and incomprehensible murmur of
the waves.
"Why do you stay there?" said Sereja's voice behind her.
"What's that to you?" she replied dryly, without moving.
"I am curious."
He watched her silently, and took out a cigarette, lit it, and sat
astride the boat Then as he realized that Malva was not inclined to
talk to him, he added in a friendly voice--
"What a queer sort of woman you are! At one moment you run away from
everybody, and the next moment you throw yourself at every one's head."
"At yours, perhaps?" said Malva carelessly. "Not at mine, but at
Jakoff's."
"Are you jealous?"
"Hm! Shall we talk to each other straight?" She was seated sideways to
him; he could not see her face, as she interjected in a curt tone--
"Talk away!"
"Have you quarrelled with Vassili? tell me?"
"I am sure I don't know...." she replied, after a moment's silence.
"Why do you want to know?"
"Just out of curiosity."
"I am angry with him."
"Why?"
"He beat me."
"Is it possible?... He?... And you allowed him to do it?... Well!...
Well!..."
Sereja could not get over it He tried to catch sight of Malva's face,
and made a mocking grimace.
"If I had liked I could have prevented him! she replied angrily.
"How's that?"
"I wouldn't defend myself!"
"You care for him then as much as that; that old grey cat?" said
Sereja, puffing out a mouthful of smoke. "Here's a nice business! And
I, who thought you were worth more than that!"
"I don't care for any of you!" she replied in a voice that had
recovered its indifference, and brushing the smoke away with her hand.
"You are lying, I bet anything."
"Why should I lie?" she asked.
And by the ring in her voice Sereja recognized that she had no reason
to lie.
"But if you don't care for him, why did you allow him to beat you?"
"How do I know?... Leave me alone!"
"It's a queer go!" said Sereja, shaking his head. And they were both
silent Night came on. The slow-moving clouds threw dark shadows over
the sea. The waves moaned.
Vassili's fire at the end of the cape had died down, but Malva
continued to look out in that direction. Sereja watched the girl
attentively.
"Listen!" he said, "do you know what you want?"
"If only I could know!" she replied in a low voice, with a deep-drawn
sigh.
"You don't know?... That's a bad job," said Sereja positively. "I, I
always know!"
And with a shade of sadness, he added--
"Only it's so rarely that I want anything...." "And I, I am always
wanting something," said Malva. "I want ... what ... I don't know....
Sometimes I would like to jump into a boat, and go out to sea, far,
far out. And at other times I should like to turn all you men into
tops, who would spin and spin in front of me. I should watch them, and
I should laugh. Sometimes I pity everybody, and especially myself;
sometimes I want to kill everybody, and then do for myself some
horrible death. And then I am bored, and then I want to laugh, and men
are all a lot of sticks."
"They are rotten wood," Sereja agreed softly. "I was right when I said
to myself--'you are neither cat, nor fish, nor bird ... but you have
something of all of them in you. You are not like other women."
"Thank God!" sighed Malva.
To their left, behind a chain of sandy hills, the moon rose, flooding
them with its silvery light. Large and soft it rose slowly in the blue
sky, and the sparkling light of the stars paled, and was lost in its
mellow, dreamy light.
"You think too much.... That's what's the matter!" said Sereja in a
convinced tone of voice, tossing away his cigarette. "And when one
thinks, one becomes disgusted with life.... One must be always moving,
always in the midst of people ... who must be made to feel that one is
really alive. One must knock life about, or it will become mouldy.
Move about in life, here and there, as long as you are able, and then
you won't be bored." Malva grew gay.
"It's perhaps true what you say. Sometimes I think that if one set
fire one night to one of the huts ... that might make things lively!"
"That's a capital idea!" cried the other one, tapping her on the
shoulder. "Do you know what I would advise you ... we might have some
fun together if you would like?"
"What is it?" asked Malva, interested.
"Have you warmed up Jakoff well?"
"He bums like a clear fire," she said delighted.
"Is it possible? Set him on to his father. Wouldn't it be a queer
sight?... They would go for each other like two bears ... Warm the old
fellow up a little, and this other one still more ... and then we will
set them on each other." Malva looked hard into his freckled face, as
he smiled gaily. Lighted up by the moon it seemed less ugly than by
daylight It expressed neither hatred nor anything but good humour and
vivacity, in the expectation of a reply.
"Why do you hate them?" Malva asked suspiciously.
"I? Vassili is a good sort of fellow for a peasant. But Jakoff is not
worth anything. Generally speaking, you see, I don't like peasants;
they are all knaves. They know how to pretend to be unfortunate,
get bread and everything given to them. And all the time they have a
municipality which looks after them. They have land and cattle. I was
coachman to a municipal doctor--and I saw something of those peasants
then! Then for a long time I was a tramp. When I got to a village and
asked for bread--'Oh! Oh! Who are you? what are you doing? show your
passport!...' I was beaten more than once; sometimes they took me for
a horse-thief; sometimes without any reason they put me in prison....
They groan and pretend that they can't live, although they have land of
their own. And I, what could I do against them?"
"Are you not a peasant?"
"I am citizen," replied Sereja with pride. "A citizen of the town of
Ouglitch."
"And I of Pavlitcha," said Malva dreamily.
"I have no one to protect me. But those devils of peasants, they can
live well. They have a municipality and everything."
"What is a municipality?" asked Malva.
"A municipality? Devil take me if I know!... It's something made for
peasants; it's their council.... Don't let's talk any more of that.
Let's talk of our own business. Will you arrange this matter, tell
me? No harm will come of it. They will just knock each other about a
little.... I will help you.... Vassili beat you, did he?... Then let
his son give you back the blows that you have received."
"Why not?" said Malva, smiling. "It wouldn't be a bad thing."
"Just think a little, isn't it amusing to see how people knock each
other about because of you? You just wag your tongue once or twice, and
it's done."
Sereja for some time went on exposing to her in a flattering light,
and with much enthusiasm the charms of the part which he proposed she
should play. He was both joking and serious, and was himself carried
away.
"Ah! if only I were a beautiful woman! How I would turn the world
topsy-turvy!" he cried at the end of their talk.
Then he took his head into his hands, pressed it, closed his eyes and
was silent.
The moon was high when they separated After they had left, the beauty
of the night intensified. There remained but the boundless, marvellous
sea, flecked by the silver of the moon; and the star-sown sky. The
little sand-hills, the bushy willows, and the two long rows of huts
like two enormous coffins, appeared quite insignificant in the face of
the sea, and of the stars, which twinkled coldly as they contemplated
it.
CHAPTER V
The father and son were seated in the hut opposite each other, and were
drinking vodka, which the son had brought to conciliate the elder man,
and to prevent them being bored in each other's company.
Sereja had told Jakoff that his father was angry with him because of
Malva, and that he had threatened to beat Malva till she was half dead.
The young woman had been told of this threat, and that was why she had
not yielded to Jakoff. Sereja had mischievously misled him.
"He'll punish you for your larks. He'll pull your ears till they are
half-a-yard long. You had better not get in his way!"
This red-headed, disagreeable fellow's chaff provoked in Jakoff a
sharp feeling of resentment against his father ... and against Malva,
with whom he could not get a bit further. Sometimes her eyes seemed to
lead him on, sometimes they looked sad, and then the desire within him
pained him to an extent that became exasperation.
Jakoff went to see his father. He looked upon him as an obstacle in his
path, which it was impossible to get over, or to push on one side. But
feeling himself as strong as his adversary, Jakoff met his eyes with a
look which seemed to say--"Touch me if you dare!"
They had each already taken two glasses, without having exchanged a
word, excepting some ordinary remarks about the life at the fisheries.
Alone, in the midst of the sea, they were accumulating within
themselves hatred, and both of them knew that very soon this hatred
would burst out and flame forth.
The matting of the hut swayed in the wind, the bark of which it was
built creaked, the red rag at the top of the mast was murmuring
something. All these sounds were like a timid, endless, and uncertain
lisping of a prayer. But the waves murmured--free and unmoved.
"And Sereja, does he still get drunk?" asked Vassili in a harsh voice.
"He is drunk every evening," replied Jakoff, pouring out some more
vodka for his father.
"He'll come to no good! This is what a free and easy life leads to....
And you also, you will become like him."
Jakoff did not like Sereja, and he replied there-fore--
"I shall never become like him."
"No?" said Vassili, frowning. "I know what I am talking about ... How
long have you been here? Already two months! You must soon be thinking
of going back. And how much money have you saved?"
He swallowed with a look of discontent the vodka which his son had
poured out for him, and taking his beard in his hand he tugged at it so
hard that his head shook.
"I have not been able to save money in such a short time!" Jakoff
argued with reason.
"If that's the case, you had better not stay here; go back to the
village!"
Jakoff smiled.
"Why these grimaces?" cried Vassili in a threatening voice, vexed with
the calmness shown by his son. "Your father is talking to you, and you
laugh. You are in too much of a hurry to think yourself free! You will
have to get back into harness."
Jakoff poured himself out some vodka, and drank it These coarse
remarks of his father offended him; but he kept his temper, hiding his
thought and not wishing to drive his father to fury. He began to feel
frightened before this harsh, severe presence.
And Vassili, noticing that his son had drunk alone without filling his
father's glass, grew angrier still, though he retained an appearance of
calmness.
"Your father tells you to go home, and you laugh in his face! All
right!... I'll speak to you in a different tone.... Ask for your money
on Saturday and ... be off ... back to the village! Do you hear?"
"I shall not go," said Jakoff firmly.
"What?" howled Vassili; and leaning his two hands on the barrel, he got
up. "Am I talking to you, or not? Dog that you are I howling against
your father!... You have forgotten that I can do what I like with you;
you have forgotten that? Eh?"
His lips trembled, his face was convulsed; two great veins swelled out
on his temples. "I have forgotten nothing," said Jakoff in a low voice,
without looking at his father. "And you, have you forgotten nothing?"
"It's not your place to preach morality to me; I will break you in
pieces!..."
Jakoff dodged his father's threatening hand, and feeling a savage
hatred rising within him, he said with clinched teeth--
"Don't touch me! We are not in the village...."
"Silence! I am your father, wherever you are...."
"Here you can't have me beaten with birch-rods. Here it is different!"
Jakoff spoke sneeringly, his face close to his father's.
And he rose slowly.
They stood there opposite each other. Vassili with bloodshot eyes,
his head stretched forward, his hands clinched, breathed heavily into
his son's face his vodka-laden breath; and Jakoff crouched back, was
watching his father's movements, ready to parry his blows, apparently
calm, but inwardly raging and sweating. Between them was the barrel
which served as table.
"You think I won't strike you?" cried Vassili in a hoarse voice,
arching his back like a cat prepared to spring.
"Here we are all equals; you are a workman, and so am I."
"That's all you know."
"Yes, that's what I know. Why do you attack me? You think that I don't
understand?... It's you who began...."
Vassili shouted and raised his arm so rapidly that Jakoff had not time
to fall back. The blow fell on his head; he staggered, ground his teeth
in the furious face of his father, who was again threatening him.
"Wait a moment!" he cried, clinching his fists.
"Wait yourself!"
"Leave me alone, I tell you."
"Ah! that's the way you speak to your father? ... your father?... your
father?..."
They were close together, and their legs were entangled in the empty
bags, the log, and the overturned barrel Protecting himself as best he
could against his father's blows, Jakoff, pale and sweating, his face
darkened, his teeth set firm, his eyes flashing like a wolfs, retired
slowly, whilst his father pressed forward towards him, gesticulating
ferociously, blind with rage, wildly distorted; in his anger his hair
stood up like that of a wild boar.
"Stop now ... That's enough ... leave off," cried Jakoff, cold and
terrible, as he emerged from the hut.
His father yelled and came on again, but his blows only met Jakoff's
fists.
"Take that, and that!"
Jakoff, who knew himself now to be the stronger and the more agile, led
his father on.
"Just wait a moment!"
But Jakoff jumped on one side and ran towards the sea.
Vassili rushed after him with head down, and arms stretched out, but he
stumbled over some obstacle, and fell, with his chest on the ground.
He rose rapidly to his knees, and then sat down, resting his hands on
the sand. He was completely exhausted by the struggle, and he howled
piteously with unappeased rage, and with the bitter consciousness of
his feebleness.
"Curse you!" he cried, stretching his neck out in Jakoff's direction,
and shaking the froth from his trembling lips.
Jakoff was leaning against a boat, and watching him narrowly. With one
hand he was rubbing his injured head. One of his shirt-sleeves hung
by a thread, his collar also was in rags, and his white moist chest
shone in the sun as if he had been rubbed with oil. He was feeling
contempt for his father; he had thought him so strong, and now he saw
him overcome and in a deplorable state, seated on the sand, shaking his
fists, and Jakoff smiled condescendingly with the wounding smile of the
strong over the weak.
"May the lightning strike you!... Curse you again and again!" Vassili
shouted his curses so loud that Jakoff turned involuntarily towards the
fisheries, as if he thought that the desperate shouting could be heard
there. But over there was nothing but waves and sunlight He spat, and
remarked--
"Call, call louder! Who are you going to frighten?... And if there has
been something between us I'll tell you at once and make an end of
it...."
"Hold your tongue! Don't let me see you any more! Go away!" cried
Vassili.
"I shall not go to the village.... I shall spend the winter here," said
Jakoff, without paying any attention to his father's shouts, though he
watched his every movement "One is better here.... I quite understand
that.... I am not a fool. Work is less hard here, and there is more
liberty.... There you would be always ordering me about but here,
just try it on!"
He put his thumb to his nose, and laughed a quiet laugh, but in such a
way that Vassili once more seized with fury bounded to his feet, and
seizing hold of an oar shouted--
"That's the way you treat your father?... Ah! I will kill you!" But
when, mad with rage, he reached the boat, Jakoff was already far away.
He ran on, and the tom sleeve of his shirt floated in the breeze behind
him.
Vassili threw the oar after his son, but did not succeed in hitting
him. Having exhausted his strength he let himself fall at the side of
the boat, and tore the wood with his nails, whilst his son called out
to him in the distance--
"What, arn't you ashamed of yourself? You are getting old, and you put
yourself into this state for a woman!... I'm not going back to the
village.... I've had enough of it ... Go back yourself! ... You've
nothing to do here!"
"Jakoff, hold your tongue!" shouted Vassili; and his voice rose above
that of Jakoff's. "I shall kill you.... Get away with you!"
But Jakoff was walking away now, and laughing. Vassili watched him with
furious eyes. Now he was getting smaller; his legs seemed to be hidden
in the sand ... half his body had disappeared ... now his shoulders ...
and now his head.... He was no longer to be seen. But some minutes
afterwards, at a few paces from the spot where he had disappeared, his
head showed once more, then his shoulders, then all his body.... He
looked quite small. He was turning round and saying some-thing--
"Curse you!... Curse you!" cried Vassili.
The son made a gesture with his hand, and continued to walk away till
he was hidden by a sandhill.
Vassili looked out in that same direction for a long time, till his
back hurt him from sitting in such an uncomfortable attitude--half
crouched down against the boat, the palms of his hands resting on the
sand. Cramped and aching all over, he rose and staggered, for his limbs
pained him. His belt had got pushed up under his arms, he unfastened it
with his stiff fingers, looked at it and threw it on the sand. Then he
went towards his hut, but stopped as he reached a hollow in the ground,
remembering that it was there that he had fallen, and that if it had
not been for that he might have caught his son.
In the hut everything was in disorder. Vassili looked round for the
bottle of vodka, and finding it among the sacks, he picked it up, with
difficulty withdrew the cork, and placing the neck of the bottle in his
mouth he tried to drink.... But the bottle knocked against his teeth,
and the liquid ran out over his beard and his chest The alcohol tasted
as flat as water. Everything seemed to turn round in Vassili's head;
his heart felt heavy, his back hurt him.
"I am old.... That's what's the matter!" he said out loud. And he
threw himself on the sand at the door of the hut. Before him lay the
vast sea, sighing idly, full of strength and of beauty. The waves
were laughing as they always did noisily and light-heartedly. Vassili
contemplated the water for a long time, and recalled the covetous words
of his son--
"If only that were all land, rich black land that could be ploughed!"
An acute feeling of weariness invaded the peasant's soul. He rubbed his
chest hard, and sighed deeply. His head fell forward, and his back bent
as if an immense weight were crushing him. A spasm seemed to seize his
throat He coughed and made the sign of the cross, looking up to the
sky. Some terrible thought seemed to overwhelm him.
Because for a lost girl he had abandoned his wife with whom he had
lived honestly for more than fifteen years, the Lord had punished him
through the revolt of his son. Yes, Lord!...
His son had mocked him, and had tom his heart Killing was too good for
him after what he had done against the soul of his father.... And all
that for a light woman! And he, old already, had become entangled with
her! In his sin he had forgotten his wife and his son....
And now the Lord in His just anger reminded him of his sin, making
use of his son to strike the father's heart with a well-deserved
punishment. Yes, Lord!...
Vassili remained seated, making the sign of the cross, and blinking his
eyes to get rid of the tears which blinded him.
And the sun sank Into the sea, and the red twilight faded out of the
sky. A cool wind came to caress the peasant's face, which was bathed
In tears. Plunged in thoughts of repentance, he remained there till he
fell asleep a short time before dawn.
CHAPTER VI
The day after the quarrel Jakoff went off with a party of workmen in a
boat, which was taken out by a tug. They were going out to a distance
of about thirty versts to fish for sturgeon in a bay.
He returned to the fishery at the end of five days, alone and in a
sailing-boat; he had been sent ashore to fetch provisions. It was noon
when Jakoff arrived; the workmen were resting after their dinner. It
was intolerably hot, the sand burnt the feet, the fish-bones and scales
pricked them. Jakoff walked carefully towards the huts, wishing all
the time he had put his shoes on. He hesitated about returning to the
boat, he wanted to eat his dinner quickly and to find Malva. During
the tedious hours at sea he had often thought of her. He would have
liked to have known if his father and she had seen each other, and what
had passed between them.... Perhaps the old man had beaten her? That
wouldn't have mattered; it would have made her more gentle.
Otherwise she was too provoking, too bold. The deserted fishery
slumbered: the long wooden huts with all the windows standing open,
seemed exhausted with the heat. In the inspector's office a child was
crying.... Behind a heap of barrels the whisper of voices was heard.
Jakoff went in that direction; he thought he distinguished Malva's
voice. But when he reached the barrels he stopped and paused. In the
shade, lying on his back, his arms under his head, was the red-headed
Sereja. Near him, on one side, was Vassili, and on the other side Malva.
Jakoff thought, "What is my father doing here? Has he left his
employment so as to be near Malva, and to watch her? The old devil!...
If only my mother knew what he was up to?" Should he speak to them or
not?
"That's it," Sereja was saying. "Therefore you must say good-bye to
each other. And then be off, and go and scratch your land ..."
Jakoff started, and his face grew joyful.
"I am going," said Vassili.
Then Jakoff stepped forward boldly.
"Good-morning, all of you!"
His father threw a rapid glance at him, and then turned away. Malva did
not move. Sereja kicked out his leg, and said in a forced voice--
"Here is our well-beloved son Jakoff, who is returning from a far
country."
Then he added in his ordinary voice--
"Let us skin him alive, and mate drums out of his skin."
Malva laughed softly.
"It's hot," said Jakoff, sitting down by them.
Vassili glanced at him once more, as if unwillingly.
"I have been expecting you here all the morning, Jakoff. The inspector
told, me that you were to come." His voice seemed to the young man to
be weaker than usual, and his face seemed altered.
"I have come to fetch some provisions," said Jakoff.
And he asked Sereja for a cigarette.
"I have no tobacco for a fool like you!" replied the latter without
moving.
"I'm going home, Jakoff!" said Vassili gravely, digging at the sand
with his finger.
"Why?" asked his son innocently.
"Never mind.... Shall you remain here?"
"Yes, I shall remain.... What could both of us do at home?"
"Very well. I have nothing to say. Do as you choose I You are no longer
a child. Only remember that I shan't live very much longer. I shall
keep alive perhaps, but I don't know how I shall manage to work.... I
have lost the habit of working on the land.... Don't forget therefore
that you have your mother there."
It was evidently painful to him to speak. The words seemed to stick
between his teeth. Whilst he twisted his beard, his hand trembled.
Malva watched him. Sereja had half closed one eye, and with the other
which was wide open he watched Jakoff. The boy was glad, but fearing to
betray his feelings, he was silent, and hung his head.
"Don't forget your mother therefore, Jakoff. Remember that you are all
that is left to her!" said Vassilli.
"I know!" said Jakoff, shrugging his shoulders.
"That's all right if you know it," added his lather, with a distrustful
glance. "I only warn you not to forget it."
"All right!"
Vassili sighed deeply. They were all silent for some minutes.
Then Malva said--
"They will soon be ringing the bell for work."
"I am going," said Vassili, rising.
And they all rose with him.
"Good-bye, Sereja. If you ever come to the Volga, perhaps you will
remember to come and see me?... The District of Simbirsk, the village
of Malso, near Nikolo-Livolvsk."
"All right," said Sereja.
He shook Vassili's hand, holding it for a long time in his big,
thick-veined paw, covered with red hairs. He smiled into the sad,
serious face of Vassili.
"Nikolo-Livolvsk is a big town, _every one_ knows it, and we are only
four versts from there," the peasant explained.
"All right, I will come and see you if I am that way."
"Good-bye."
"Good-bye, my dear fellow."
"Good-bye, Malva!" whispered Vassili, without raising his eyes to her.
She wiped her lips leisurely with, her sleeve, threw her two white arms
round his neck, and kissed him three times, on his lips and on his
cheeks.
He was overcome, and muttered some indistinct words. Jakoff dropped his
head to hide a smile; but Sereja was unmoved, and even yawned slightly
as he looked up at the sky.
"It will be hot walking," he said.
"Nevermind!... Good-bye to you also, Jakoff."
"Good-bye."
They were face to face with one another, without knowing what to do.
The sad word "good-bye," which had just been repeated so many times,
awoke in the soul of Jakoff a feeling of tenderness for his father,
but he did not know how to express it Should he embrace his father as
Malva had done, or shake hands with him like Sereja?... And Vassili was
wounded by this hesitation which was visible in the attitude of his
son, and at the same time he felt something like shame. He remembered
what had taken place at the cape, and he thought of Malva's kisses.
"Well, think of your mother!" said Vassili at last.
"Oh! yes!" replied Jakoff cordially. "Don't be anxious ... I know."
And he shook his head.
"That's all Be happy! May God protect you.... Don't think ill of
me.... The boiler, Sereja, is buried in the sand, near the bows of the
green boat."
"What does he want with the boiler?" asked Jakoff suddenly.
"He has taken my place over there at the cape," explained Vassili.
Jakoff glance at Sereja enviously, then at Malva, and hung his head to
hide the flash of joy in his eye.
"Good-bye, brothers, I am going."
Vassili nodded to them. Malva followed him.
"I am going to walk with you a little bit of the way."
Sereja flung himself on the ground and seized Jakoff's leg as this
latter was about to follow Malva.
"Stop! where are you going to?"
"Leave me alone!" said Jakoff, moving a step forward. But Sereja had
seized his other leg.
"Sit down beside me."
"Why!... What new nonsense are you up to?"
"It's not nonsense I Sit down."
Jakoff set his teeth, and obeyed.
"What do you want?"
"Wait Hold your tongue ... whilst I think; and then I'll talk to you."
He looked the lad up and down, and Jakoff submitted.
Malva and Vassili walked on for a few moments in silence. Malva's eyes
had a strange sparkle in them. And Vassili was gloomy and preoccupied.
Their feet sank into the sand, and they walked with difficulty.
"Vassia!"
"Well?"
He looked at her, and turned away immediately.
"It was I who made you quarrel on purpose with Jakoff.... You might
have both lived here without quarrelling," she said, in a voice that
was even and unmoved.
There was not a shade of regret in her words.
"Why did you do that?" Vassili asked, after a moment's silence.
"I don't know ... for no reason."
She shrugged her shoulders and smiled.
"That's a nice thing you have done," he said irritably.
She was silent.
"You will make me lose my boy, lose him altogether; you sorceress! Have
you no fear of God? Are you not ashamed?... What are you going to do?"
"What ought I to do?" she said.
A mixture of agony and of despair sounded in her voice.
"What ought you to do?" cried Vassili, flashing out suddenly into rage.
He felt a passionate desire to strike her, to throw her down and bury
her in the sand, to kick her in the face and on the bosom....
He clinched his fists and cast a look behind him.
Over there near the barrels he saw Sereja and Jakoff, and their faces
were turned in his direction.
"Get along with you; or I shall do for you!..."
He stopped and breathed curses into her face. His eyes were bloodshot,
his beard trembled, and his hands were stretched involuntarily towards
Malva's hair, which appeared above her shawl.
Her green eyes were fixed on him.
"You deserve to be killed!... But wait a bit. Some one will break your
head one of these days!"
She smiled, but remained silent. Then sighing deeply, she said--
"That's enough now. Good-bye!"
And turning quickly on her heels, she walked back.
Vassili yelled after her and ground his teeth. Malva, as she walked
tried to put her feet into the footmarks which Vassili had made,
and when she succeeded she carefully destroyed all traces of his
footprints. Finally she reached the barrels, when Sereja received her
with the question--"Well, you walked a bit of the way with him?"
She made an affirmative sign with her head, and sat down by him.
And Jakoff watching her, smiled softly, moving his lips as if he were
saying things to her that no one else heard.
"And when you left him did you cry?" asked Sereja.
"When are you going over there to the cape?" she asked him, indicating
the sea with a movement of her head.
"This evening."
"I shall go with you."
"Bravo!... I like that."
"And I also, I shall go!" said Jakoff.
"Who invites you?" said Sereja, screwing up his eyes.
The harsh tinkle of a cracked bell was heard; it was the call to work.
The sounds rang out through the air, one following rapidly the other,
as if they feared to be late, or to be drowned in the sound of the
waves.
"She will invite me," said Jakoff.
He glanced at Malva defiantly.
"I?... What should I want with you?" she replied, with surprise in her
voice.
"Let's speak plainly, Jakoff," said Sereja. "If you bother her I'll
beat you into a jelly. And if you touch her with a finger, I'll crush
you like a fly. I'll give you one over the head that will just finish
you altogether. I'm very straightforward in my ways." His face, his
whole figure and his knotted arms threatened Jakoff's throat, and
seemed to prove eloquently, that in reality, to kill a man was to
Sereja a very simple matter.
Jakoff stepped back and said in a stifled voice--
"Wait a minute! It's she who..."
"Hold your tongue, and there's an end of it! What does all this mean?
It's not you, you dog, who are going to eat the lamb. If you get the
bones thrown to you, you may say thank you. We've had enough of this."
Jakoff looked at Malva. Her green eyes were laughing in a way that
wounded him, and she rubbed up against Sereja in such a coaxing way
that Jakoff felt the perspiration break out all over him.
They walked off side by side, and then both of them burst out laughing.
Jakoff crushed his right foot hard into the sand, and remained standing
thus, his body stretched forward, his face red, his heart beating.
Far away over the dead ripples of the sand, the outline of a small dark
human figure was moving; on his right shone the sun and the mighty
sea, and on his left, as far as the horizon, there was sand, nothing
but sand, smooth, vast and silent. Jakoff watched the solitary man and
blinked his eyes, which were full of tears--tears of humiliation and
of painful uncertainty--and he rubbed his chest roughly with both his
hands.
At the fishery, work was going on briskly. Jakoff heard the deep,
melodious voice of Malva, saying angrily--
"Who has taken my knife?"
The waves rippled, the sun shone, the sea laughed.
THE END
End of Project Gutenberg's The Orloff Couple and Malva, by Maxim Gorky