he other
side. Hurrying into their sheepskins, swearing sleepily in hoarse
voices, and shivering from the cold, the four men appeared on the bank.
After their sleep, the river from which there came a piercing blast,
seemed to them horrible and disgusting. They stepped slowly into the
barge.... The Tartar and the three ferrymen took the long, broad-bladed
oars, which in the dim light looked like a crab's claw, and Simeon flung
himself with his belly against the tiller. And on the other side the
voice kept on shouting, and a revolver was fired twice, for the man
probably thought the ferrymen were asleep or gone to the village inn.

"All right. Plenty of time!" said Brains in the tone of one who was
convinced that there is no need for hurry in this world--and indeed
there is no reason for it.

The heavy, clumsy barge left the bank and heaved through the willows,
and by the willows slowly receding it was possible to tell that the
barge was moving. The ferrymen plied the oars with a slow measured
stroke; Brains hung over the tiller with his stomach pressed against it
and swung from side to side. In the dim light they looked like men
sitting on some antediluvian animal with long limbs, swimming out to a
cold dismal nightmare country.

They got clear of the willows and swung out into mid-stream. The thud of
the oars and the splash could be heard on the other bank and shouts
came: "Quicker! Quicker!" After another ten minutes the barge bumped
heavily against the landing-stage.

"And it is still snowing, snowing all the time," Simeon murmured, wiping
the snow off his face. "God knows where it comes from!"

On the other side a tall, lean old man was waiting in a short fox-fur
coat and a white astrachan hat. He was standing some distance from his
horses and did not move; he had a stern concentrated expression as if he
were trying to remember something and were furious with his recalcitrant
memory. When Simeon went up to him and took off his hat with a smile he
said:

"I'm in a hurry to get to Anastasievka. My daughter is worse again and
they tell me there's a new doctor at Anastasievka."

The coach was clamped onto the barge and they rowed back. All the while
as they rowed the man, whom Simeon called Vassili Andreich, stood
motionless, pressing his thick lips tight and staring in front of him.
When the driver craved leave to smoke in his presence, he answered
nothing, as if he did not hear. And Simeon hung over the rudder