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!"
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 ..."
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."