The father and son were seated in the cabin facing each other, and drinking brandy which the youth had brought with him to conciliate the old man and so as not to be weary in his company.
Serejka had told Iakov that his father was angry with him on account of
Malva, and that he had threatened to beat Malva until she was half dead.
He also said that was the reason she resisted Iakov's advances.
This story had excited Iakov's resentment against his father. He now looked upon him as an obstacle in his road that he could neither remove nor get around.
But feeling himself of equal strength as his adversary, Iakov regarded his father boldly, with a look that meant: "Touch me if you dare!"
They had both drunk two glasses without exchanging a word, except a few commonplace remarks about the fisheries. Alone amidst the deserted waters each nursed his hatred, and both knew that this hate would soon burst forth into flame.
"How's Serejka?" at last Vassili blurted out.
"Drunk as usual," replied Iakov, pouring our some more brandy for his father.
"He'll end badly—and if you don't take care you'll do the same."
"I shall never become like him," replied Iakov, surlily.
"No?" said Vassili, frowning. "I know what I'm talking about. How long are you here already? Two months. You must soon think of going back. How much money have you saved?"