It thrilled beneath the warm light breath of the wind, and its surface became covered with faint ripples, reflecting dazzingly the sun; whilst, with its thousand silvery lips it laughed back to the sky. The vast space between the sea and the sky seemed filled with the joyful hum of wave-voices, rippling up, one after the other, over the flat shore of the sandy cape. This sound blended with the flashes of sunlight, reflected a thousandfold by the sea, and melted harmoniously into one ceaseless agitation full of living joy. The sky was happy as it poured forth light; the sea was happy as it reflected the glory of the sunlight.
The wind caressed the smooth powerful bosom of the sea, warmed by the sun's ardent rays; and the ocean seemed to sigh as if fatigued with these amorous caresses; it filled the burning air with the salt smell of its emanations. The greenish waves, lapping the yellow sands, tossed forwards the white froth of their crests, which melted with gentle hissing sounds, moistening the foreshore....
The long narrow tongue of earth resembled some enormous tower which had fallen on to its side into the sea. Its slender point was planted in the vast solitude of the water, laughing up to the sun; whilst its base seemed lost in the distance, where a warm haze hid the mainland. There came from thence with the breeze a heavy smell, incomprehensible and offensive out here, in the midst of the wild pure sea, under the dome of clear blue sky.
Fixed in the sand, which seemed in part covered with fish-scales, were wooden posts. From these fishing-nets hung to dry, casting delicate shadows, fine and light as spiders-webs. A few large boats and one smaller one lay in a line on the beach, and the waves as they ran up towards them seemed to be calling them.
Oars, coils of rope, and barrels lay about in disorder; whilst amongst them rose a hut made of willow-branches, of bark and of matting. At the door of the hut, on the knotted fork of the branch of a tree, hung, soles upwards, two felt boots; and above this general chaos floated a strip of red rag at the top of a high mast.
In the shade of a boat Vassili Legostev was lying down; his duty was to watch over the interests of the fishing merchant Grebentchikok, whose fisheries were established on this promontory. Lying flat on his stomach, his head in his hands, he was watching with a fixed gaze the sea, and still further away the almost invisible coast-line. Over there, on the water, a black speck was dancing up and down, and Vassili watched it with satisfaction as it grew larger, and drew nearer.
Half closing his eyes, to shut out the strong glare from the waves, his face beamed with pleasure: it was Malva who was coming. She would come laughing so joyously that her bosom would rise and fall in tempting throbs; she would throw her soft strong arms around him, would kiss him, and in her sonorous voice that frightened away the seagulls she would give him news of what was going on over there on the shore. Together they would make some capital fish-soup and they would drink vodka, whilst they chatted and played about together; then as the daylight waned they would regale themselves with boiling hot tea and little rolls, and afterwards go to bed. This was how they spent every Sunday and feast-day. At dawn he would take her, still heavy with sleep, back across the sea through the fresh morning air. Malva with sleepy eyes would sit down near the rudder, and he would row and watch her. She was so quaint at those times—quaint and charming, like? soft little cat that has eaten a good meal. Sometimes she would slide down to the bottom of the boat, and would sleep there, rolled up against him like a ball. Often she did this.
To-day even the gulls seemed languid with the heat They stood in rows on the sand, their beaks open, and their wings hanging; or else they rocked idly on the waves without uttering their accustomed cries, or showing their usual fierce animation.
It seemed to Vassili that Malva was not alone in the boat Could it be that Sereja had come with her again? Vassili moved uneasily on the sand, and then sat up shading his eyes with his hand; he seemed trying, with a vexed expression on his face, to discover who it could be who was arriving.... Malva was holding the rudder. It was not Sereja rowing with that strong but clumsy stroke. If it had been Sereja, Malva would not have troubled herself to steer.
"Ahoy!" cried Vassili impatiently.