Descriptive prose Gogol. The last years of N's life

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Maksim Gorky

The blue southern sky, darkened with dust, is cloudy; the hot sun looks into the greenish sea, as if through a thin gray veil. It is almost not reflected in the water, cut by the blows of oars, steamship propellers, the sharp keels of Turkish feluccas and other ships plowing the cramped harbor in all directions. The waves of the sea, encased in granite, are suppressed by huge weights sliding along their ridges, hitting the sides of ships, the shores, beating and grumbling, foamed, polluted with various rubbish.

The ringing of anchor chains, the roar of clutches of cars delivering cargo, the metallic scream of iron sheets falling from somewhere on the stone pavement, the dull knock of wood, the rattling of cab carts, the whistles of steamships, sometimes piercingly sharp, sometimes dull roars, the cries of trucks, sailors and customs soldiers - all these sounds merge into deafening music working day and, rebelliously swaying, they stand low in the sky above the harbor - more and more waves of sounds rise up to them from the ground - sometimes dull, rumbling, they sternly shake everything around, sometimes sharp, thundering, tearing up the dusty sultry air.

Granite, iron, wood, harbor pavement, ships and people - everything breathes with the powerful sounds of a passionate hymn to Mercury. But the voices of people, barely audible in it, are weak and funny. And the people themselves, who originally gave birth to this noise, are funny and pitiful: their figures, dusty, ragged, nimble, bent under the weight of goods lying on their backs, fussily run here and there in clouds of dust, in a sea of ​​heat and sounds, they insignificant compared to the iron colossuses around them, the piles of goods, the rattling carriages and everything they created. What they created enslaved and depersonalized them.

Standing under steam, the heavy giant steamships whistle, hiss, sigh deeply, and in every sound born of them one can see a mocking note of contempt for the gray, dusty figures of people crawling along their decks, filling the deep holds with the products of their slave labor. The long lines of porters carrying thousands of pounds of bread on their shoulders into the iron bellies of ships in order to earn a few pounds of the same bread for their stomachs are funny to tears. Ragged, sweaty people, dull from fatigue, noise and heat, and the powerful machines, shining in the sun with stature, created by these people - machines that, in the end, were set in motion not by steam, but by the muscles and blood of their creators - in This juxtaposition was a whole poem of cruel irony.

The noise was overwhelming, the dust, irritating the nostrils, blinded the eyes, the heat baked the body and exhausted it, and everything around seemed tense, losing patience, ready to erupt in some kind of grandiose catastrophe, an explosion, after which the air refreshed by it would breathe freely and easily, silence will reign on earth, and this dusty noise, deafening, irritating, leading to melancholy rage, will disappear, and then in the city, on the sea, in the sky it will become quiet, clear, glorious...

Twelve measured and ringing strikes of the bell rang out. When the last brass sound died away, wild music labor was already sounding quieter. A minute later it turned into a dull, dissatisfied murmur. Now the voices of people and the splash of the sea have become more audible. It's lunch time.

When the longshoremen, having given up work, scattered around the harbor in noisy groups, buying various foodstuffs from the traders and sitting down to dine right there, on the pavement, in shady corners, Grishka Chelkash appeared, an old poisoned wolf, well known to the Havana people, an inveterate drunkard and a clever, brave thief He was barefoot, in old, threadbare corduroy trousers, without a hat, in a dirty cotton shirt with a torn collar, revealing his dry and angular bones, covered in brown leather. It was clear from his tousled black and gray hair and his crumpled, sharp, predatory face that he had just woken up. There was a straw sticking out of one of his brown mustaches, another straw was tangled in the stubble of his left shaved cheek, and he had tucked a small, freshly plucked linden branch behind his ear. Long, bony, slightly stooped, he walked slowly over the stones and, moving his humped, predatory nose, cast sharp glances around him, gleaming with cold gray eyes and looking out for someone among the movers. His brown mustache, thick and long, twitched every now and then, like a cat’s, and his hands behind his back rubbed each other, nervously twisting their long, crooked and tenacious fingers. Even here, among hundreds of sharp tramp figures just like him, he immediately attracted attention with his resemblance to a steppe hawk, his predatory thinness and this aiming gait, smooth and calm in appearance, but internally excited and vigilant as a year old. that bird of prey which he resembled.

When he reached one of the groups of tramp loaders sitting in the shade under a pile of baskets of coal, a stocky fellow with a stupid, purple-spotted face and a scratched neck, who must have been recently beaten, stood up to meet him. He stood up and walked next to Chelkash, saying in a low voice:

- The navy has missed two places of manufacture... They are looking.

- Well? - Chelkash asked, calmly measuring him with his eyes.

- What - well? They are looking, they say. Nothing else.

- Did they ask me to help look?

And Chelkash looked with a smile at where the warehouse of the Voluntary Fleet stood.

- Go to hell!

The comrade turned back.

- Hey, wait! Who decorated you? Look how they ruined the sign... Have you seen the bear here?

- I haven’t seen you for a long time! – he shouted, leaving to join his comrades.

From somewhere, due to the riot of goods, a customs guard turned out, dark green, dusty and militantly straight. He blocked Chelkash's path, standing in front of him in a defiant pose, grabbing the handle of the dirk with his left hand, and trying to take Chelkash by the collar with his right hand.

- Stop! Where are you going?

Chelkash took a step back, raised his eyes to the watchman and smiled dryly.

The red, good-natured, cunning face of the serviceman tried to portray a menacing face, for which it puffed up, became round, purple, moved its eyebrows, widened its eyes and was very funny.

“I told you, don’t you dare go to the harbor, I’ll break your ribs!” And you again? – the watchman shouted menacingly.

- Hello, Semenych! “We haven’t seen each other for a long time,” Chelkash calmly greeted him and extended his hand.

- I wish I wouldn’t see you again for a century! Go, go!..

But Semenych still shook the outstretched hand.

“Tell me what,” Chelkash continued, not letting go of Semyonich’s hand from his tenacious fingers and shaking it in a friendly, familiar manner, “have you seen Mishka?”

- What kind of bear? I don’t know any Mishka! Get out, brother, get out! otherwise the warehouse guy will see, he’ll...

“Ryzhiy, with whom I worked last time at Kostroma,” Chelkash stood his ground.

– With whom you steal together, that’s how you say it! He was taken to the hospital. Your bear's leg was crushed by a cast iron bayonet. Go, brother, while they are asking for honor, go, otherwise I’ll hit you in the neck!..

- Yeah, look! and you say - I don’t know Mishka... You know. Why are you so angry, Semenych?..

- That's it, don't talk to me, just go!..

The watchman began to get angry and, looking around, tried to snatch his hand from Chelkash’s strong hand. Chelkash calmly looked at him from under his thick eyebrows and, without letting go of his hand, continued talking:

- Well, well, give it up! Don't joke, you bony devil! I, brother, really...Are you really going to rob people’s houses and robber the streets?

- For what? And here there is enough goodness for our lifetime. By God, that's enough, Semenych! Do you hear, you’ve sacked two manufacturing places again?.. Look, Semenych, be careful! Don't get caught somehow!..

The indignant Semenych shook, sputtering and trying to say something. Chelkash let go of his hand and walked calmly long legs back to the harbor gates. The watchman, cursing furiously, moved after him.

Chelkash became cheerful; he whistled quietly through his teeth and, with his hands in his pants pockets, walked slowly, making caustic laughs and jokes right and left. He was paid the same.

- Look, Grishka, the authorities are so protective of you! - someone shouted from the crowd of movers who had already had lunch and were lying on the ground, resting.

“I’m barefoot, so Semenych is watching so that he doesn’t hurt my leg,” Chelkash answered.

We approached the gate. Two soldiers groped Chelkash and gently pushed him out into the street.

Chelkash crossed the road and sat down on the bedside table opposite the doors of the tavern. A line of loaded carts rumbled out of the harbor gates. Empty carts with cab drivers jumping on them rushed towards them. The harbor was spewing howling thunder and acrid dust...

In this frantic bustle, Chelkash felt great. A solid income was ahead of him, requiring a little work and a lot of dexterity. He was sure that he had enough dexterity, and, squinting his eyes, he dreamed of how he would go on a spree tomorrow morning, when credit notes would appear in his pocket... I remembered my comrade, Mishka, - he would have been very useful tonight if he had not broken his leg. Chelkash swore under his breath, thinking that he probably wouldn’t be able to handle the matter alone, without Mishka. What will the night be like?.. He looked at the sky and along the street.

About six paces from him, by the sidewalk, on the pavement, leaning his back against a bedside table, sat a young guy in a blue motley shirt, matching pants, bast shoes and a tattered red cap. Near him lay a small knapsack and a scythe without a handle, wrapped in a bundle of straw, neatly twisted with a rope. The guy was broad-shouldered, stocky, fair-haired, with a tanned and weather-beaten face and large blue eyes that looked at Chelkash trustingly and good-naturedly.

Chelkash bared his teeth, stuck out his tongue and, making a terrible face, stared at him with wide eyes.

The guy, at first perplexed, blinked, but then suddenly burst out laughing and shouted through his laughter: “Oh, eccentric!” - and, almost without getting up from the ground, he awkwardly rolled from his bedside table to Chelkash’s bedside table, dragging his knapsack through the dust and tapping the heel of his braid on the stones.

“What a walk, brother, apparently it’s great!” he turned to Chelkash, tugging at his trouser leg.

- It was a thing, sucker, it was such a thing! – Chelkash confessed, smiling. He immediately liked this healthy, good-natured guy with childish bright eyes. - From the cornfield, or what?

- Of course!.. They mowed a mile away - they mowed a penny. Things are bad! There are a lot of people! This same starving man trudged along - they knocked down the price, don’t even bother! They paid six hryvnia in Kuban. Business!.. And before, they say, the price was three rubles, four, five!..

- Previously!.. Previously, they paid three rubles for just looking at a Russian person. About ten years ago I did this very thing. When you come to the village, I’m Russian, they say! Now they will look at you, touch you, marvel at you and - get three rubles! Let them drink and feed. And live as long as you want!

The guy, listening to Chelkash, at first opened his mouth wide, expressing bewildered admiration on his round face, but then, realizing that the ragamuffin was lying, he slapped his lips and laughed. Chelkash kept a serious face, hiding a smile in his mustache.

- Oddball, you seem to be telling the truth, but I listen and believe... No, by God, before there...

- Well, what am I talking about? After all, I also say that, they say, there before...

“Go away!..” the guy waved his hand. - Shoemaker, or what? Ali a tailor?.. Are you?

- Me? - Chelkash asked again and, after thinking, said: - I’m a fisherman...

- Fish-ack! Look! So, are you fishing?..

- Why fish? The local fishermen catch more than one fish. More drowned people, old anchors, sunken ships - everything! There are such fishing rods for this...

– Lie, lie!.. Of those fishermen, perhaps, who sing to themselves:

We cast our nets
On dry shores
Yes, in barns, in cages!..

-Have you seen any of these? - Chelkash asked, looking at him with a grin.

- No, you can see where! I heard...

- Do you like it?

- Are they? Of course!.. It’s okay guys, free, free...

– What do you mean – freedom?.. Do you really love freedom?

- But how can it be? You are your own boss, go wherever you want, do whatever you want... Of course! If you manage to keep yourself in order, and there are no stones on your neck, then the first thing is! Walk as you please, just remember God...

Chelkash spat contemptuously and turned away from the guy.

“Now this is my business...” he says. “My father has died, my farm is small, my mother is an old woman, the land has been sucked out, what should I do?” You have to live. But as? Unknown. I'll go to my son-in-law good house. OK. If only they singled out their daughter!.. No, the devil father-in-law won’t single her out. Well, I’ll be bothering him... for a long time... Years! - Look, what's going on! And if I could earn a hundred and a half rubles, I would now stand up on my feet and - Antipas - bite me, bite me! Do you want to highlight Marfa? No? No need! Thank God, she is not the only girl in the village. And that means I would be completely free, on my own... No, yes! – The guy sighed. “And now there’s nothing you can do except become a son-in-law.” I thought: I’ll go to Kuban, grab two hundred rubles, it’s a Sabbath! master!.. But it didn’t burn out. Well, you’ll go to work as a farm laborer... I won’t improve with my farming, not at all! Ehe-he!..

The guy really didn’t want to become a son-in-law. Even his face grew sad. He shifted heavily on the ground.

Chelkash asked:

- Now where are you going?

- But where? you know, home.

- Well, brother, I don’t know this, maybe you’re planning to go to Turkey...

“To Tu-Turkey!..” the guy drawled. – Who is it among the Orthodox who goes there? Said it too!..

- What a fool you are! - Chelkash sighed and turned away from his interlocutor again. This healthy village guy awakened something in him...

A vague, slowly brewing, annoying feeling was simmering somewhere deep and preventing him from concentrating and thinking about what needed to be done that night.

The scolded guy muttered something in a low voice, occasionally casting sidelong glances at the tramp. His cheeks puffed out funny, his lips protruded, and his narrowed eyes blinked somehow too often and funny. He obviously did not expect that his conversation with this mustachioed ragamuffin would end so quickly and offensively.

The ragged man paid no more attention to him. He whistled thoughtfully, sitting on the nightstand and beating time with his bare, dirty heel.

The guy wanted to get even with him.

- Hey you, fisherman! How often do you drink it? - he began, but at the same moment the fisherman quickly turned his face to him, asking him:

- Listen, sucker! Do you want to work with me tonight? Speak quickly!

- Why work? – the guy asked incredulously.

- Well, what!.. Why will I make you... Let's go catch fish. You will row...

- So... What then? Nothing. You can work. Only... I wouldn’t want to get into trouble with you. You’re too boring... you’re dark...

Chelkash felt something like a burn in his chest and said in a low voice with cold anger:

- Don’t talk about things you don’t understand. I’ll hit you in the head, then it will lighten up in you...

He jumped off the bedside table, pulled his mustache with his left hand, clenched his right hand into a hard, sinewy fist, and his eyes sparkled.

The guy was scared. He quickly looked around and, blinking timidly, also jumped up from the ground. Measuring each other with their eyes, they were silent.

- Well? – Chelkash asked sternly. He seethed and shuddered from the insult inflicted on him by this young calf, whom he had despised during the conversation with him, and now immediately hated because he had such pure Blue eyes, a healthy tanned face, short strong arms, for the fact that he has a village somewhere there, a house in it, for the fact that a wealthy man invites him to be his son-in-law - for his entire life, past and future, and most of all for that that he, this child, compared to him, Chelkash, dares to love freedom, which he does not know the price of and which he does not need. It is always unpleasant to see that a person whom you consider inferior and inferior to you loves or hates the same things as you, and thus becomes like you.

The guy looked at Chelkash and felt the owner in him.

“After all, I... wouldn’t mind...” he began. – I’m looking for work. I don’t care who I work for, you or someone else. I just said that you don't look like... a working man—too bad... tattered. Well, I know that this can happen to anyone. Lord, I haven’t seen any drunkards! Oh, so many!.. and not even people like you.

- Fine, fine! Agree? – Chelkash asked more softly.

- Me? Let's go!.. with my pleasure! Tell me the price.

- My price is based on my work. What kind of work will it be? What a catch, then... You can get five. Understood?

But now it was about money, and here the peasant wanted to be precise and demanded the same accuracy from the employer. The guy's distrust and suspicion flared up again.

- This is not my hand, brother!

Chelkash entered into the role:

- Don't talk, wait! Let's go to the tavern!

And they walked down the street next to each other, Chelkash - with an important face of the owner, twirling his mustache, the guy - with an expression of complete readiness to obey, but still full of mistrust and fear.

- What is your name? – Chelkash asked.

- Gavril! – the guy answered.

When they arrived at the dirty and smoky tavern, Chelkash, going up to the buffet, in the familiar tone of a regular, ordered a bottle of vodka, cabbage soup, roasted meat, tea and, having listed what was required, briefly said to the barman:

“Everything is on credit!” to which the barman silently nodded his head. Here Gavrila was immediately filled with respect for his master, who, despite his appearance as a swindler, enjoys such fame and trust.

- Well, now we’ll have a bite and talk properly. While you sit, I’ll go somewhere.

He left. Gavrila looked around. The tavern was located in the basement; it was damp, dark, and the whole place was full of the suffocating smell of burnt vodka, tobacco smoke, tar and something else pungent. Opposite Gavrila, at another table, sat a drunken man in a sailor's suit, with a red beard, covered in coal dust and tar. He purred, hiccupping every minute, a song, all of some interrupted and broken words, sometimes terribly hissing, sometimes guttural. He was obviously not Russian.

Two Moldavian women fit behind him; ragged, black-haired, tanned, they also creaked the song in drunken voices.

Then more came out of the darkness different figures, all strangely disheveled, all half-drunk, loud, restless...

Gavrila felt terrified. He wanted the owner to return quickly. The noise in the tavern merged into one note, and it seemed that it was some huge animal growling, it, possessing a hundred different voices, was irritated, blindly rushing out of this stone pit and could not find a way out into freedom... Gavrila felt like in his body something intoxicating and painful was absorbed, which made his head spin and his eyes blurred, running around the inn with curiosity and fear...

Chelkash came, and they began to eat and drink, talking. After the third glass, Gavrila became drunk. He felt happy and wanted to say something nice to his master, who is a nice man! – treated him so deliciously. But the words, which poured into his throat in waves, for some reason did not leave his tongue, which suddenly became heavy.

Chelkash looked at him and, smiling mockingly, said:

- I got drunk!.. Eh, prison! with five glasses!.. how will you work?..

“Friend!” Gavrila babbled. - Don't be afraid! I will respect you!.. Let me kiss you!.. huh?..

- Well, well!.. Here, take another bite!

Gavrila drank and finally got to the point where everything in his eyes began to fluctuate with even, wave-like movements. It was unpleasant and it made me sick. His face became stupidly delighted. Trying to say something, he smacked his lips funny and mumbled. Chelkash, looking intently at him, as if remembering something, twirled his mustache and kept smiling gloomily.

And the tavern roared with drunken noise. The red-haired sailor was sleeping with his elbows on the table.

- Come on, let's go! - Chelkash said, standing up. Gavrila tried to get up, but couldn’t and, cursing loudly, laughed the senseless laughter of a drunk.

- It's fun! - said Chelkash, again sitting down on the chair opposite him.

Gavrila kept laughing, looking at the owner with dull eyes. And he looked at him intently, vigilantly and thoughtfully. He saw before him a man whose life had fallen into his wolf's clutches. He, Chelkash, felt able to turn her this way and that way. He could break it like playing card, and could help her establish herself within a strong peasant framework. Feeling like the master of another, he thought that this guy would never drink such a cup as fate had given him, Chelkash, to drink... And he envied and regretted this young life, laughed at her and was even upset for her, imagining that she may once again fall into hands like his... And all Chelkash’s feelings eventually merged into one thing - something fatherly and economic. I felt sorry for the little one, and the little one was needed. Then Chelkash took Gavrila under the armpits and, lightly pushing him from behind with his knee, led him out into the tavern yard, where he piled firewood on the ground in the shade of a woodpile, and he sat down next to him and lit a pipe. Gavrila fidgeted a little, hummed and fell asleep.

1. Grigory Chelkash appeared, “a drunk and an experienced thief.” “Even in those places where, besides him, there were dozens of other brave and strong figures, the man knew how to attract attention to himself. He looked like a hawk - a predator of the steppe. His predatory thinness and gait, very smooth and calm at first glance, raged inside and was vigilant, like the steppe predator he so resembled.” Grishka was looking for his thief partner, Mishka. One of the guards told him that Mishka was taken to the hospital with a crushed leg. In the large crowd of raging people that was always at the port, Chelkash felt quite confident. He was getting ready for his next task, and regretted that he could not take Mishka as his assistant.

Gregory met a young guy, got to know him and introduced himself as a fisherman (although he doesn’t catch fish at all). They had a long heart-to-heart talk with him, and Chelkash gradually gained his trust. The guy's name was Gavrila. He told the thief that he wanted to get money, because he couldn’t manage his own household, and they didn’t give him girls with rich dowries as wives, and he couldn’t make money either. The guy without hesitation agrees to Chelkash’s offer to get money. An experienced thief invited him to have lunch together. Having borrowed lunch, he immediately won the respect of Gavrila, because even the appearance of a swindler could not deprive him of fame and the trust of others. During lunch, Chelkash manages to get Gavrila drunk, and the guy finds himself completely under his influence.

Chelkash not only envied, but also regretted the young life, at times he laughed and made fun of her, sometimes he was a little upset at the thought that she would someday end up in hands like his... In the end, all his feelings merged into something master's and father's. Although Grishka felt sorry for the boy, he really needed him.

2. When night fell, Chelkash and Gavrila got into the boat and went “to work.” Then there is a description of the sea and sky landscapes (about the clouds - “The soulless masses moved slowly, and there was something so fatal about it”). Chelkash did not tell Gavrila for a long time exactly for what purpose they went on the trip, but he, sitting on the oars, began to guess that Grigory was not going to fish. Gavrila got scared and asked Chelkash to let him go, but he was amused by the boy’s fear. He doesn’t want Gavrila to escape, so he takes his documents. After they stuck to the wall, Chelkash left and brought something heavy, cubic in shape. Gavrila turned the boat in the opposite direction and dreamed only that this damned work would end soon. And after they descend to earth, he will run away from Chelkash before he kills him or sends him to prison. The guy rowed the oars very carefully, so they were not caught by the guards. The beam from the searchlight slid across the water, which greatly frightened Gavrila, but the guards still did not catch them. After this, the guy began to refuse his part of the earnings, but the experienced thief seduces him, saying that when he returns to his village, he will again live a boring and dull life, because during that night he managed to earn half a thousand. He tells the guy about his prospects if he continues to cooperate with him. Grigory was inspired and began to talk about the life of the peasants. The thief remembered his childhood, native village, parents, wife, told about his service in the guard and how proud his father was of him after that. Chelkash is distracted by memories of the past, and they almost sailed past the ship on which the thieves were supposed to sell the goods.

3. They stayed overnight on the same Greek ship. Chelkash took the money and continued to persuade the guy to collaborate again. He showed Gavrila many pieces of paper that he had received from the Greeks. The guy with trembling hands took forty rubles - payment for the work done. This gave Gregory the idea that the guy was too greedy, but he pushed her away, believing that there was nothing more to demand from the village boys. A novice thief begins to think with inspiration that he can live well in the village with money. Once on land, Gavrila, threatening, asks Chelkash to give all his earnings to him. He, filled with both pity and hatred, gives away all the banknotes. The guy, constantly shuddering, thanks him and quickly hides what he had selected in his bosom. Grigory reflects that no matter how he is, cut off from his family and friends, a reveler and a thief, he will never become as greedy, and will never sink as low as this boy. Gavrila is thinking about killing his accomplice, because no one will miss him or look for him. Chelkash takes the unlucky thief by the throat, and, taking away the banknotes, leaves with contempt. The guy picks up a stone lying nearby and throws it at Gregory’s head, knocking him off his feet. After this, Gavrila runs away, but later still returns with the intention of asking for forgiveness, so as not to harbor sin in his soul. Chelkash, despising, drives the guy away from him, saying that he doesn’t even really know how to fornicate, after which he gives all the money, hiding only one piece of paper. Gavrila says that he will take them only after Gregory forgives him. The rain begins to fall, Chelkash turns around and walks away, without touching the money lying on the sand. His legs give way and his headband is stained with blood. Gavrila quickly begins to collect money and, hiding it, walks away in the other direction with wide and firm steps. Drops of rain and waves beating on the shore wash away traces and blood stains from the surface of the sand. On the deserted seashore there is nothing left that could remind of the small drama that played out between these people.

Port. The ringing of anchor chains, the roar of car clutches, the metallic scream of iron sheets falling onto the stone pavement. “The noise was overwhelming, the dust, irritating the nostrils, blinded the eyes, the heat baked the body and exhausted it, and everything around seemed tense, losing patience, ready to erupt in some kind of grandiose catastrophe, an explosion, after which one would breathe freely in the air refreshed by it.” and it’s easy... in the city, on the sea, in the sky it will become quiet, clear, glorious..."

Grishka Chelkash appeared when the movers were sitting down to lunch. He was “an old poisoned wolf, well known to the people of Havana, an inveterate drunkard and a clever, brave thief. He was barefoot, in old, worn out corduroy pants, without a hat, and in a dirty cotton shirt with a torn collar.” It was clear that he had just woken up. He walked slowly, looking for someone among the movers. Chel Kash immediately attracted attention by its resemblance to a steppe hawk with its predatory thinness and this aiming gait, reminiscent of a bird of prey. He exchanged a few words with familiar movers. The watchman tried not to miss him. Chelkash tenaciously grabbed his hand and asked about his partner Mishka. The watchman said that Mishka’s leg was crushed by a cast-iron plate. Having boldly talked to the watchman, Chelkash moved on, thinking about how he could cope with the matter without an assistant.

He saw a young guy sitting on the pavement, leaning his back against the bedside table. The guy was broad-shouldered, stocky, with a tanned and weather-beaten face. His blue eyes looked good-naturedly at Chelkash. Grishka spoke to him. The guy said that he was hired to mow, but received pennies. Chelkash said about himself that he is a fisherman, but he doesn’t catch fish in the sea. The guy began to talk about his life in the village. His father is dead, there is little land, his mother is an old woman. He would like to marry the daughter of a wealthy peasant, but he did not allow them to live in his house, and the guy did not want to become a son-in-law. So he went to work as a farm laborer.

After joking with the guy and thinking a little, Chelkash invited him to work with him that night. The peasant started talking about money, but Chelkash said that the money would be for work. He took the guy to the tavern. There he ordered them a good lunch, briefly telling the innkeeper: “Everything is on credit!” He nodded his head silently. Gavrila realized that his master was known and trusted here. Leaving Gavrila alone, Chelkash left. In this dimly lit tavern with the roguish public, Gavrila felt terrified. Chelkash arrived, they began to eat and drink. After three drinks, Gavrila became drunk. Gavrila soon became very drunk. Chelkash “looked at him intently, vigilantly and thoughtfully. He saw in front of him a man whose life had fallen into his wolf's paws... He could break it like a playing card, and could help it establish itself in a strong peasant framework... he thought that this guy would never drink such a cup that fate had given drink to him... And he envied and regretted this young life... and even felt sad for her, imagining that she could once again fall into hands like his...” In the end, his feelings merged into something paternal and economic: he felt sorry for the little one and he was needed.

At night they went out to sea. The sky was overcast, the clouds were slowly creeping. There was something fatal in this slow movement of the soulless masses. Chel porridge was happy at sea, but Gavrila was afraid. Gavrila asked where the tackle was. Chelkash rudely ordered him to row in silence. Suddenly they were called out. Chelkash ordered Gavrila to be silent and row even more quietly. They were called a second time, but this time the voice was further away. Chelkash said that Gavrila was lucky, because if they had been chased, he would have immediately sent him to the fish. He asked to let him go, cried quietly, but rowed strongly and desperately. They sailed past the hulls of ships. Chelkash ordered to stop at the harbor. To prevent Gavrila from sailing away without him, Chelkash took the bundle with his passport from him. He left and ordered us to wait. Fear gripped Gavrila. Chelkash appeared and handed Gavrila two large bales. They set sail. Gavrila wanted only one thing: to quickly finish this damned work and run away from this man before he killed him and sent him to prison. Chelkash said that they had only one gate left to pass. He ordered to row more quietly. Gavrila was expecting a shout at any moment: “Stop, thieves!” He wanted to call people to help him. Suddenly the spotlight began to slide across the sea. Gavrila became even more frightened and fell to the bottom of the boat. Chelkash pushed him with his foot and quietly said that this was a customs searchlight, you need to get out of here quickly before they are illuminated. Gavrila again began to row vigorously.

Having passed dangerous place, Chelkash put Gavrila behind the wheel so that he could rest a little, and he began to row. He started talking about how they made good money today.

With this money, Gavrila will be able to buy himself a horse, a cow, sheep... Chelkash deliberately started talking about the village in order to cheer up Gavrila a little. He began to talk about himself. He valued peasant life freedom, the fact that a person can demand respect for himself. Gavrila agreed with him and said that man is nothing without land. This sobered Chelkash. He again transferred Gavrila to the oars. Memories of childhood and youth spent in the village overwhelmed Chelkash.

They handed over the stolen goods to some sailors on the ship. They were promised money in the morning.

In the morning Chelkash woke up Gavrila, dressed in long boots, leather pants. They swam ashore. Chelkash showed Gavrila the proceeds. He looked at the pieces of paper with greedy eyes. Chelkash offered Gavrila his money. Gavrila hid the money with trembling hands and lowered his eyes. Chelkash saw that Gavrila was greedy. “Not good... However, what then?.. Peasant...” Chelkash said thoughtfully. Gavrila replied that you can do a lot with money, and began to talk about his life in the village with money. The boat buried itself in the sand. On Chelkash’s face was the smile of a man who had planned something very pleasant for Gavrila. He saw that Gavrila was very excited. Chelkash asked what was the matter. Gavrila threw himself at Chelkash’s feet and began to ask him to give him the money, because Chelkash earned it in only one night. Gavrila promised to pray for him all his life. Chelkash pushed Gavrila away and threw him some pieces of paper: “Here! Eat..." He said that he himself wanted to give them to Gavrila: "Is it possible to torture yourself like that for money? Fool! Greedy devils!.. They don’t remember themselves... You’re selling yourself for a nickel!” Gavrila happily hid the money in his bosom. Chelkash looked at him and felt that he - a thief, a reveler - would never be so greedy, low, and not remembering himself. This thought filled him with a feeling of freedom.

Gavrila admitted that he wanted to kill Chelkash, realizing that no one would miss him, and take the money for himself. Hearing this, Chel Kash grabbed Gavrila by the throat and took away the money. Direct, dry, predatory, he turned his back to Gavrila and walked away. Gavrila jumped to his feet like a cat and threw a stone at Chelkash. It hit the head. Chelkash fell, tried to get up and again stood up like a string. Gavrila started to run.

It started to rain. For a long time nothing was visible except the rain and a long man lying on the sand by the sea. But then the running Gavrila appeared again. He knelt in front of Chelkash and began to move him. His hand was covered in blood. Chelkash woke up. Gavrila began to ask to forgive him: “Take the sin from your soul!.. Dear! Sorry!" Chelkash, driving Gavrila away, spat in his eyes. He again began to ask for forgiveness. Chelkash pulled out the money, leaving one piece of paper for himself, and gave it to Gavrila. Gavrila replied that he would not take it until Chelkash forgives him. “You’re lying, you’ll take it, you scoundrel!” Chelkash said confidently. “Don’t be ashamed that you almost killed a man!” Nobody will punish people like me. They will also say thank you when they find out. Here, take it!” Gavrila saw that Chelkash was laughing, and he felt better. Gavrila took the money. He again asked to forgive him. "Nothing!" - Chelkash answered coldly and left, staggering. Gavrila looked after him, then took off his cap, crossed himself, hid the money in his bosom and walked in the opposite direction with wide, firm steps.

“The blue southern sky, darkened by dust, is cloudy; the hot sun looks into the greenish sea, as if through a thin gray veil; it is almost not reflected in the water... Vanity and confusion reign in the port. People seem insignificant in this noise. What they created enslaved and depersonalized them.” The line of porters carrying thousands of pounds of bread in order to earn a few pounds of bread for food was ridiculous and pathetic. The noise was overwhelming and the dust irritated the nostrils. At the sound of the gong, lunch began.

The movers sat in a circle, laying out their simple food. Now among them appeared Grishka Chelkash, an old poisoned wolf, well known to those present, an inveterate drunkard and a clever, brave thief. “He was barefoot, in old, worn out corduroy pants, without a hat, in a dirty cotton shirt with a torn collar, revealing his dry and angular bones, covered in brown leather. It was clear from his tousled black and gray hair and his crumpled, sharp, predatory face that he had just woken up. He walked, casting sharp glances around. Even in this crowd, he stood out sharply due to his resemblance to a steppe hawk, his predatory thinness and this aiming gait, smooth and calm in appearance, but internally excited and vigilant, as old as the bird of prey that he resembled.”

He spoke abruptly and sharply to those who addressed him, and was probably not in a good mood. Suddenly, a watchman blocked Chelkash’s path. Chelkash asked him about his friend Mishka, and he replied that Mishka’s leg was crushed with a “cast iron bayonet” and he was taken to the hospital. The watchman escorted Chelkash out of the gate, but he had great mood: “A solid income was ahead of him, requiring a little work and a lot of dexterity.” He was already dreaming about how he would go on a spree tomorrow morning, when there would be money in his pocket. But Chelkash couldn’t cope alone, without a partner, and Mishka broke his leg. Chelkash looked around and saw a village guy with a bag at his feet. “The guy was stocky, broad-shouldered, fair-haired, with a tanned and weather-beaten face and large blue eyes that looked at Chelkash trustingly and good-naturedly.”

The guy started talking to Chelkash, and he immediately liked him. The guy asked about Chelkash’s occupation: shoemaker or tailor? Chelkash said that he was a fisherman. The guy started talking about freedom, and Chelkash was surprised, why does the guy need freedom? The peasant said: his father died, the farm was exhausted. Of course, he can go to Primaki in a rich house, but these are years of working for his father-in-law. If he had one hundred and fifty rubles, he would get back on his feet and live independently. And now there is nothing to do but become a son-in-law. I went to mow in Kuban, but didn’t earn anything, they paid me a pittance.

Suddenly Chelkash invited the guy to work with him at night. When the peasant asked what to do, Chelkash answered: row. Chelkash, who had previously despised the guy, suddenly hated him “because he has such clear blue eyes, a healthy tanned face, short strong arms, because a wealthy man invites him to be his son-in-law - for his entire life, past and future , and most of all because he, this child, compared to him, Chelkash, dares to love freedom, which he does not know the price of and which he does not need. It is always unpleasant to see that a person whom you consider inferior and inferior to you loves or hates the same things as you, and thus becomes like you.” The guy agreed because he really came to look for work. They met. The guy's name was Gavrila. They went to a tavern located in a dirty and damp basement.

Gavrila quickly became drunk and wanted to say something nice to Chelkash. Chelkash looked at the guy and thought that he had the power to turn his life around, break it like a playing card, or help it settle into a strong peasant framework. Finally, Chelkash realized that he felt sorry for the little one and needed him. Drunk Gavrila fell asleep in a tavern.

At night they prepared the boat for going out to sea. The night is dark, the whole sky is overcast. And the sea is calm. Gavrila rowed, Chelkash drove the wheel. Chelkash asks Gavrila if he likes being at sea, he is a little afraid. But Chelkash loves the sea. At sea, a wide, warm feeling rises in him - embracing his entire soul, it cleanses it a little from worldly filth. He appreciates this and loves to see himself as the best here, among the water and air. Gavrila asks where the tackle is, and Chelkash nods towards the stern, and then gets angry that he has to lie to the guy; He angrily advises Gavrila to row - he was hired for this. They were heard and called out, but Chelkash threatened Gavrila to tear him apart if he made a sound. There was no chase, and Chelkash calmed down. And Gavrila prays and asks to let him go. Out of fright, he cries and sniffles in the darkness, but the boat quickly moves forward. Chelkash orders to leave the oars and, leaning his hands on the wall, moves forward.

Chelkash takes the oars and Gavrila’s knapsack with his passport so that he does not run away, orders the little one to wait in the boat, and he suddenly disappears. Gavrila was seized with horror, even greater than under Chelkash; it seemed to him that he was about to die. Suddenly Chelkash appeared, handing the guy something cubic and heavy, oars, Gavrila’s knapsack, and he himself jumped into the boat. Gavrila joyfully greeted Chelkash, asked if he was tired, not without that, Chelkash answered. He is satisfied with the loot, now he needs to sneak back unnoticed, and then get your money, Gavrila. The guy rows with all his might, wanting to quickly finish this dangerous work and run away from scary person, while intact. Chelkash warns that there is one dangerous place, it must be passed unnoticed and silently, because if they notice, they can kill you with a gun. Gavrila was seized with horror, he was ready to scream at the top of his lungs, but then he fell off the bench. Chelkash angrily whispered that the customs cruiser was lighting the harbor with a lantern, and if it illuminated them, they would die. We must row. With a kick, Chelkash brought Gavrila to his senses, reassured him that they were catching smugglers, but they were not noticed, they swam far away, the danger was over. "It's the end of everything..."

Chelkash sat on the oars, and Gavrila took the helm. The tramp tried to encourage the guy with good money. He promised Gavrila a quarter, but he just wanted to get to the shore alive - there were no more desires.

Chelkash asks Gavrila what joy he has in village life. Here is his life, full of danger, and in one night he “grabbed” half a thousand. Gavrila was struck by the amount named by Chelkash. To calm the guy down, Chelkash started talking about the village. He wanted to get Gavrila to talk, but he got carried away and began to tell him that the peasant is his own master if he has at least a piece of land. Gavrila even forgot who he was dealing with. He imagined that in front of him was a peasant. Gavrila said that Chelkash is speaking correctly; Here he is, Chelkash, lifted off the ground and what he has become! Chelkash was offended by this guy’s speech. He abruptly interrupted Gavrila, saying that all this was not serious. He doesn't mean what he says. Angry at the guy, Chel-kash put him back on the oars, barely restraining himself so as not to throw the guy into the water. Sitting at the stern, Chelkash remembered his parents, his wife Anfisa, and himself as a guards soldier. Waking up from his memories, he said that he would hand over the cargo and receive five hundred. They quickly approached the barge and even bumped into its side, climbed onto the deck, and Gavrila immediately began snoring, and Chelkash, sitting next to him, tried on someone’s boot. Then he stretched out and fell asleep.

He woke up first. Chelkash climbed up from the hold and returned only two hours later. He was wearing leather pants and a jacket. The suit is shabby, but strong and suits Chelkash very well. The awakened Gavrila was at first frightened, not recognizing the transformed Chelkash. The guy looked at Chelkash with admiration, calling him a master, and he, laughing at Gavrila’s nightly fears, asked if he was ready to try his luck again for two hundred rubles. Gavrila agrees. Chelkash laughs at the guy who easily succumbed to temptation. They got into the boat and swam to the shore. Chelkash realized that by nightfall a “good storm” would break out. Gavrila impatiently asks Chelkash how much he received for the goods. Chelkash takes out a stack of rainbow-colored bills from his pocket. Gavrila, looking at them with greedy eyes, says that she does not believe in the possibility of receiving such a sum.

“If only I had that kind of money!” - and he sighed dejectedly. And at that time Chelkash carefreely dreamed out loud how they would walk together on the shore. Chelkash does not need such a huge amount of money; he gave several pieces of paper to Gavrila. He hastily hid them in his bosom. The tramp was unpleasantly struck by Gavrila's greed. And the guy began excitedly talking about what he would do if he had that kind of “money.” They reached the shore. Chelkash had the look of a man who had something very pleasant in mind. He smiled slyly.

Chelkash was surprised by Gavrila’s condition, he even asked the guy: “What’s making you cringe?” In response, Gavrila laughed, but the laughter was like a sob. Chelkash waved his hand and walked away. Gavrila caught up with him, grabbed him by the legs and pulled him. Chelkash fell on the sand and wanted to hit Gavrila, but stopped, listening to the guy’s bashful whisper: “Darling! Give me this money! Give, for Christ's sake! After all, in one night... You throw them into the wind, and I would into the ground!.. Do me a good deed... After all, you are lost... there is no way for you.”

Chelkash looked at the guy with disgust, then took money out of his pocket and threw it to Gavrila. “Here, eat!” Chelkash felt like a hero. He was surprised that a person could torture himself so much for money. Gavrila, squealing in delight, collected money and began to say that he wanted to kill his partner. Chelkash jumped up and shouted: “Give me the money!” Then he knocked Gavrila down and took his money. Turning his back to the guy, Chelkash walked away. But he had not walked even five steps when Gavrila threw a large stone at him. Chelkash turned to face Gavrila and fell face first into the sand, clutching his head. Gavrila rushed away, but soon returned. The guy shook Chelkash, trying to lift him up, calling him brother. Chelkash, who woke up, chased Gavrila away, but he did not leave, asked to forgive him, said that the devil had misled him, picked Chelkash up and led him, supporting him by the waist. Chelkash was angry, saying that the guy didn’t even know how to fornicate.

Chelkash asked if Gavrila had taken the money, but he said that he had not. Chelkash took a wad of money out of his pocket, put one hundred in his pocket, and gave the rest of the money to Gavrila.

Gavrila refused, saying that he would take it only if Chelkash forgives him. Chelkash reassured him:

“Take it! Take it! It didn’t work for nothing! Take it, don't be afraid! Don't be ashamed that you almost killed a man! Nobody will punish people like me. They will also say thank you when they find out. Here, take it!”

Gavrila, seeing Chelkash laugh, took the money.

The rain was already pouring down in buckets. They said goodbye and went in different directions. Chelkash carried his head as if “he was afraid of losing it.” Gavrila looked after him for a long time until he disappeared behind a veil of rain. Then Gavrila sighed, crossed himself, hid the money and with wide, firm steps walked in the opposite direction from Chelkash.

“Soon the rain and splashes of the waves washed away the red spot where Chelkash lay, washed away the traces of Chelkash and the traces of the young guy on the coastal sand... And on deserted shore there was nothing left in the sea to remember the little drama that played out between two people.”