PAGE 14
Malva
by
“Well, have you seen the last of him?”
She gave an affirmative sign, and sat down beside him. Iakov looked at her and smiled, gently moving his lips as if he were saying things that he alone heard.
“When will you go to the headland?” she asked Serejka, indicating the sea with a movement of her head.
“This evening.”
“I will go with you.”
“Bravo, that suits me.”
“And I, too–I’ll go,” cried Iakov.
“Who invited you?” asked Serejka, screwing up his eyes.
The sound of a cracked bell called the men to work.
“She will invite me,” said Iakov.
He looked defiantly at Malva.
“I? what need have I of you?” she replied, surprised.
“Let us he frank, Iakov,” said Serejka. “If you annoy her, I’ll beat you to a jelly. And if you as much as touch her with a finger, I’ll kill you like a fly. I am a simple man.”
His face, all his person, his knotty and muscular arms proved eloquently that killing a man would be a very simple thing for him.
Iakov recoiled a step and said, in a choking voice:
“Wait! That is for Malva to–“
“Keep quiet, that’s all. You are not the dog that will eat the lamb. If you get the bones you may be thankful.”
Iakov looked at Malva. Her green eyes laughed in a humiliating way at him and she fondled Serejka so that Iakov felt himself grow hot and cold.
Then they went away side by side and both burst out laughing. Iakov dug his foot deep in the sand and remained glued to the spot, his body stretched forward, his face red, his heart beating wildly.
In the distance, on the dead waves of sand, was a small dark human figure moving slowly away; on his right beamed the sun and the powerful sea, and on the left, to the horizon, there was sand, nothing but sand, uniform, deserted,–gloomy. Iakov watched the receding figure of the lonely man and blinked his eyes, filled with tears–tears of humiliation and painful uncertainty.
On the fishing grounds everyone was busy at work. Iakov heard Malva’s sonorous voice ask, angrily:
“Who has taken my knife?”
The waves murmured, the sun shone and the sea laughed.