Twenty-six and One and Other Stories Part 14

"Don't try to frighten me."

"I'll soon make you dance if you begin any foolishness."

"Would you beat me?"

She went up to him and gazed with curiosity at his frowning face.

"One would think you were a countess. Yes, I would beat you."

"Yet I'm not your wife," said Malva, calmly. "You have been accustomed to beat your wife for nothing, and you imagine that you can do the same with me. No, I am free. I belong only to myself, and I am afraid of no one. But you are afraid of your son, and now you dare threaten me."

She shook her head with disdain. Her careless manner cooled Va.s.sili's anger. He had never seen her look so beautiful.

"I have something else to tell you," she went on. "You boasted to Serejka that I could no more get along without you than without bread, and that I cannot live without you. You are mistaken. Perhaps it is not you that I love and not for you that I come. Perhaps I love the peace of this deserted beach. (Here she made a wide gesture with her arms.) Perhaps I love these lonely sands, with their vast stretch of sea and sky, and to be away from vile beings. Because you are here is nothing to me. If this were Serejka's place I should come here. If your son lived here, I should come too. It would be better still if no one were here, for I am disgusted with you all. But if I take it into my head one day--beautiful as I am--I can always choose a man, and one who'll please me better than you."

"So, so!" hissed Va.s.sili, furiously, and he seized her by the throat.

"So that's your game, is it?"

He shook her, and she did not strive to get away from his grasp, although her face was congested and her eyes bloodshot. She merely placed her two hands on the rough hands that were around her throat.

"Ah, now I know you!" Va.s.sili was hoa.r.s.e with rage. "And yet you said you loved me, and you kissed me and caressed me? Ah, I'll show you!"

Holding her down to the ground, he struck her repeatedly with his clenched fist. Finally, fatigued with the exertion, he pushed her away from him crying:

"There, serpent. Now you've got what you deserved."

Without a complaint, silent and calm, Malva fell back on her back, all crumpled, red and still beautiful. Her green eyes watched him furtively under the lashes, and burned with a cold flame full of hatred, but he, gasping with excitement and satisfied with the punishment he had inflicted, did not notice the look, and when he stooped down towards her to see if she was crying, she smiled up at him gently.

He looked at her, not understanding and not knowing what to do next.

Should he beat her again? But his fury was appeased, and he had no desire to recommence.

"How you love me!" she whispered.

Va.s.sili felt hot all over.

"All right! all right! the devil take you," he said gloomily. "Are you satisfied now?"

"Was I not foolish, Va.s.sili? I thought you no longer loved me! I said to myself, 'now his son is here he will neglect me for him.'"

And she burst out laughing, a strange forced laugh.

"Foolish girl!" said Va.s.sili, smiling in spite of himself.

He felt himself at fault, and was sorry for her, but remembering what she had said, he went on crossly:

"My son has nothing to do with it. If I beat you it was your own fault.

Why did you cross me?"

"I did it on purpose to try you."

And purring like a cat she rubbed herself against his shoulder.

He glanced furtively towards the cabin and bending down embraced the young woman.

"To try me?" he repeated. "As if you wanted to do that? You see the result?"

"Oh, that's nothing!" said Malva, half closing her eyes. "I'm not angry. You beat me only because you loved me. You'll make it up to me."

She gave him a long look, trembled and lowering her voice repeated:

"Oh, yes, you'll make it up to me."

Va.s.sili interpreted her words in a sense agreeable to him.

"How?" he asked.

"You'll see," replied Malva calmly, very calmly, but her lips trembled.

"Ah, my darling!" cried Va.s.sili, clasping her close in his arms. "Do you know that since I have beaten you I love you better." Her head fell back on his shoulders and he placed his lips on her trembling mouth.

The sea gulls whirled about over their heads uttering hoa.r.s.e cries.

From the distance came the regular and gentle splash of the tiny waves breaking on the sand.

When, at last, they broke from their long embrace, Malva sat up on Va.s.sili's knee. The peasant's face, tanned by wind and sun, was bent close to hers and his great blond beard tickled her neck. The young woman was motionless; only the gradual and regular rise and fall of her bosom showed her to be alive. Va.s.sili's eyes wandered in turn from the sea to this woman by his side. He told Malva how tired he was of living alone and how painful were his sleepless nights filled with gloomy thoughts. Then he kissed her again on the mouth with the same sound that he might have made in chewing a hot piece of meat.

They stayed there three hours in this way, and finally, when he saw the sun setting, Va.s.sili said with a bored look:

"I must go and make some tea. Our guest will soon he awake."

Malva rose with the indolent gesture of a languorous cat, and with a gesture of regret he started towards the cabin. Through her half-open lids the young woman watched him as he moved away, and sighed as people sigh when they have borne too heavy a burden.

Fifteen days later it was again Sunday and again Va.s.sili Legostev, stretched out on the sand near his hut, was gazing out to sea, waiting for Malva. And the deserted sea laughed, playing with the reflections of the sun, and legions of waves were born to run on the sand, deposit the foam of their crests and return to the sea, where they melted.

All was as before. Only Va.s.sili, who the last time awaited her coming with peaceful security, was now filled with impatience. Last Sunday she had not come; to-day she would surely come. He did not doubt it for a moment, but he wanted to see her as soon as possible. Iakov, at least, would not be there to embarra.s.s them. The day before yesterday, as he pa.s.sed with the other fishermen, he said he would go to town on Sunday to buy a blouse. He had found work at fifteen roubles a month.

Except for the gulls, the sea was still deserted. The familiar little black spot did not appear,

"Ah, you're not coming!" said Va.s.sili, with ill humor. "All right, don't. I don't want you."

And he spat with disdain in the direction of the water.

The sea laughed.

"If, at least, Serejka would come," he thought. And he tried to think only of Serejka. "What a good-for-nothing the fellow is! Robust, able to read, seen the world--but what a drunkard! Yet good company. One can't feel dull in his company. The women are mad for him; all run after him. Malva's the only one that keeps aloof. No, no sign of her!

What a cursed woman! Perhaps she's angry because I beat her."