By the time that I had made my way to the stern the man had fallen far behind the stern of the barge, and his head looked as small as a fly on the glassy surface of the water. However, towards that fly a fishing-boat was already darting with the swiftness of a water beetle, and causing its two oars to show quiveringly red and grey, while from the marshier of the two banks there began hastily to put out a second boat which leapt in the steamer's wash with the gaiety of a young calf.
Suddenly there broke into the painful hubbub on the steamer's deck a faint, heartrending cry of "A-a-ah!"
In answer to it a sharp-nosed, black-bearded, well-dressed peasant muttered with a smack of his lips:
"Ah! That is him shouting. What a madman he must have been! And an ugly customer too, wasn't he?"
The peasant with the curly beard rejoined in a tone of conviction engulfing all other utterances:
"It is his conscience that is catching him. Think what you like, but never can conscience be suppressed."
Therewith, constantly interrupting one another, the pair betook themselves to a public recital of the tragic story of the fair-haired young fellow, whom the fishermen had now lifted from the water, and were conveying towards the steamer with oars that oscillated at top speed.
The bearded peasant continued:
"As soon as it was seen that he was but running after the soldier's wife."
"Besides," the other peasant interrupted, "the property was not to be divided after the death of the father."