Tchelkache started and turned around with the uneasy glance of a wild beast.
"Oh! the devil! Never mind. . . Row more cautiously. . . We're almost there."
"Were you dreaming?" asked Gavrilo, smiling.
Tchelkache looked searchingly at him. The lad was entirely himself again; calm, gay, he even seemed complacent. He was very young, all his life was before him. That was bad! But perhaps the soil would retain him. At this thought, Tchelkache grew sad again, and growled out in reply:
"I'm tired! . . . and the boat rocks!"
"Of course it rocks! So, now, there's no danger of being caught with this?"
Gavrilo kicked the bales.
"No, be quiet. I'm going to deliver them at once and receive the money. Yes!"
"Five hundred?"
"Not less, probably. . ."