Never, in his whole life, had he been so deeply wounded, and
never had his anger been so great.

"Well! Are you happy, now?" asked he, still laughing, of Gavrilo, and
turning his back to him, he walked away in the direction of the town.

But he had hardly taken two steps when Gavrilo, crouching like a cat,
threw a large, round stone at him, crying furiously:

"O--one!"

Tchelkache groaned, raised his hands to the back of his neck and
stumbled forward, then turned toward Gavrilo and fell face downward on
the sand. He moved a leg, tried to raise his head and stiffened,
vibrating like a stretched cord. At this, Gavrilo began to run, to run
far away, yonder, to where the shadow of that ragged cloud overhung the
misty steppe. The murmuring waves, coursing over the sands, joined him
and ran on and on, never stopping. The foam hissed, the spray flew
through the air.

The rain fell. Slight at first, it soon came down thickly, heavily and
came from the sky in slender streams. They crossed, forming a net that
soon shut off the distance on land and water. For a long time there
was nothing to be seen but the rain and this long body lying on the
sand beside the sea . . . But suddenly, behold Gavrilo coming from out
the rain, running; he flew like a bird. He went up to Tchelkache, fell
upon his knees before him, and tried to turn him over. His hand sank
into a sticky liquid, warm and red. He trembled and drew back, pale
and distracted.

"Get up, brother!" he whispered amid the noise of the falling rain into
the ear of Tchelkache.

Tchelkache came to himself and, repulsing Gavrilo, said in a hoarse
voice:

"Go away!"

"Forgive me, brother: I was tempted by the devil . . ." continued
Gavrilo, trembling and kissing Tchelkache's hand.

"Go, go away!" growled the other.

"Absolve my sin! Friend . . . forgive me!"

"Go, go to the devil!" suddenly cried out Tchelkache, sitting up on the
sand. His face was pale, threatening; his clouded eyes closed as
though he were very sleepy . . . "What do you want, now? You've
finished your business . . . go! Off with you!"

He tried to kick Gavrilo, prostrated by grief, but failed, and would
have fallen if Gavrilo hadn't supported him with his shoulders.
Tchelkache's face was now on a level with Gavrilo's. Both were pale,
wretched and terrifying.

"Fie!"

Tchelkache spat in the wide opened eyes of his employe.

The other humbly wiped them with his sleeve, and mur