"Well," said Michael, at last, addressing no one in particular. "Shall we take them to the ataman, or straight to the custom house officers?" "So that's to be the end!" I thought to myself. Nobody replied to Michael's question. Shakro went on quietly with his eating, and said nothing. "We could take them to the ataman--or we could take them to the custom house. One plan's as good as the other," remarked the old man, after a short silence. "They have stolen the custom house boat, so they ought to be taught a lesson for the future." "Wait a bit, old man," I began. "Certainly, they ought not to have stolen the boat. If they are not punished now, they will probably do something worse next time." The old man interrupted me, without paying any heed to my protestations. The old man spoke with revolting indifference. When he had finished speaking, his comrades nodded their heads in token of assent. "Yes, if a man steals, he has to bear the consequences, when he's caught---- Michael! what about the boat? Is it there?" "Oh, it's there all right!" "Are you sure the waves won't wash it away?" "Quite sure." "Well, that's all right. Then let it stay there. Tomorrow the boatmen will be going over to Kertch, and they can take it with them. They will not mind taking an empty boat along with them, will they? Well--so you mean to say you were not frightened, you vagabonds? Weren't you indeed? La! la! la! "Half a mile farther out, and you would have been by this time at the bottom of the sea! What would you have done if the waves had cast you back into the sea? Ay, sure enough, you would have sunk to the bottom like a couple of axes. And that would have been the end of you both!" As the old man finished speaking, he looked at me with an ironical smile on his lips. "Well, why don't you speak, lad?" he inquired. I was vexed by his reflections, which I misinterpreted as sneering at us. So I only answered rather sharply: "I was listening to you." "Well-and what do you say?" inquired the old man. "Nothing." "Why are you rude to me? Is it the right thing to be rude to a man older than yourself?" I was silent, acknowledging in my heart that it really was not the right thing. "Won't you have something more to eat?" continued the old shepherd. "No, I can't eat any more." "Well, don't have any, if you don't want it. Perhaps you'll take a bit of bread with you to eat on the road?" I trembled with joy, but would not betray my feelings. "Oh, yes. I should like to take some with me for the road," I answered, quietly. "I say, lads! give these fellows some bread and a piece of bacon each. If you can find something else, give it to them too." "Are we to let them go, then?" asked Michael. The other two shepherds looked up at the old man. "What can they do here?" "Did we not intend to take them either to the ataman or to the custom house?" asked Michael, in a disappointed tone.