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.