vermin, there! Eh!"

"Is that you Selkache?" came softly from above.

"Lower the ladder, will you!"

"Good-day, Selkache."

"Lower the ladder, smoky devil!" roared Tchelkache.

"Oh! Isn't he ill-natured to-day. . . Eh! Oh!"

"Go up, Gavrilo!" commanded Tchelkache to his companion.

In a moment they were on the deck, where three dark and bearded
individuals were looking over the side at Tchelkache's boat and talking
animatedly in a strange and harsh language. A fourth, clad in a long
gown, advanced toward Tchelkache, shook his hand in silence and cast a
suspicious glance at Gavrilo.

"Get the money ready for to-morrow morning," briefly said Tchelkache.
"I'm going to sleep, now. Come Gavrilo. Are you hungry?"

"I'm sleepy," replied Gavrilo,

In five minutes, he was snoring on the dirty deck; Tchelkache sitting
beside him, was trying on an old boot that he found lying there. He
softly whistled, animated both by sorrow and anger. Then he lay down
beside Gavrilo, without removing the boot from his foot, and putting
his hands under the back of his neck he carefully examined the deck,
working his lips the while.

The boat rocked joyously on the water; the sound of wood creaking
dismally was heard, the rain fell softly on the deck, the waves beat
against the sides. Everything resounded sadly like the lullaby of a
mother who has lost all hope for the happiness of her son.

Tchelkache, with parted lips, raised his head and gazed around him
. . . and murmuring a few words, lay down again.

* * * * *

He was the first to awaken, starting up uneasily; then suddenly
quieting down he looked at Gavrilo, who was still sleeping. The lad
was smiling in his sleep, his round, sun-burned face irradiated with
joy.

Tchelkache sighed and climbed up a narrow rope ladder. The opening of
the trap-door framed a piece of leaden sky. It was daylight, but the
autumn weather was gray and gloomy.

It was two hours before Tchelkache reappeared. His face was red, his
moustache curled fiercely upward; his eyes beamed with gaiety and
good-nature. He wore high, thick boots, a coat and leather trowsers;
he looked like a hunter. His costume, which, although a little worn,
was still in good condition and fitted him well, made him appear
broader, concealed his too angular lines and gave him a martial air.

"Hey! Youngster, get up!" said he touching Gavrilo with his foot.

The last named started up, an