One night’s work, and we land a cool five hundred!”

“Fi-v-e hundred?!” drawled Gavrila incredulously. But he at once caught fright and hurriedly asked, kicking one of the bales at the bottom of the boat: “What’s this?”

“That’s worth a lot of money. If we sold it at its proper price we could get a thousand for it. But I’ll ask for less.... Clever, ain’t it?”

“Y-e-s?” drawled Gavrila interrogatingly. “I wish I could get a bag like that!” he added with a sigh as he suddenly remembered his village, his wretched farm, his mother, and all that was distant and dear to him, and for the sake of which he had left home to earn some money, and had gone through all the horrors of this night. He was overwhelmed by a wave of recollections of his little village which scrambled down the steep slope to the river that was concealed by birches, willows, ash, and bird cherry.... “Wouldn’t that be fine,” he murmured with a mournful sigh.

“Ye-s!” continued Chelkash. “I’m thinking how nice it would be for you now to take the train home.... Wouldn’t you have all the girls running after you! You could choose any one you liked! You could build yourself a new house.... I don’t think you’ll have enough to build a new one though....”

“That’s true ... it won’t be enough to build a house. Timber’s dear in our parts.”

“Well, you could repair the old one. What about a horse? Have you got one?”

“A horse! Yes, I’ve got a horse, but she’s too old, the devil.”

“Well, you could buy a horse. Ekh, a f-i-n-e horse! And a cow ... sheep ... and poultry.... Eh?”

“Oh, don’t talk about it! ... Good Lord! Wouldn’t I live then!”

“Y-e-s, brother, it wouldn’t be at all bad.... I’ve got some idea of what that kind of life is. I had my own little nest once.... My father was one of the richest men in our village....”

Chelkash lazily pulled at the oars. The boat rocked on the waves that were playfully lapping against its sides, barely moving over the dark sea which was becoming more and more boisterous. The two men dreamed as they rocked on the water, thoughtfully gazing around. Wishing to soothe the lad and cheer him up, Chelkash had turned Gavrila’s thoughts to his village and had begun the talk in a bantering tone, hiding his smile under his moustache. When questioning Gavrila and reminding him of the joys of peasant life, in which he himself had long been disillusioned, had forgotten and had only recalled now he gradually allowed himself to be carried away by this new train of thought. He stopped questioning the lad about his village and its affairs, and, before he was aware of it, continued in the following strain:

“The main thing in peasant life, brother, is freedom! You’re your own master. You have a house. It’s not worth much, but it’s your own. You have land; only a patch, but it’s your own! You are a king on your land! ...