The impetus was so strong that the boat was tossed sideways on to the shore by a wave, and then righted herself whilst the wave rolled laughing back into the sea. The rower jumped ashore, and went straight up to Vassili-- "Good-day, father!" "Jakoff!" exclaimed Vassili, more astonished than pleased. They kissed each other three times on the mouth and on the cheeks; after which Vassili's astonishment was a mixture of joy and of trouble. "I felt sure ... there was something ... my heart told me so.... Ah! it's you ... How did you manage it?... And I, who was saying to myself, Is it Sereja?... No; I could see quite well it wasn't Sereja!... And now I find it's you!" Vassili was stroking his beard with one hand, and with the other he was gesticulating in the air. He would have liked to have looked at Malva, but the bright eyes of his son were fixed on him and made him feel awkward. His pride, in having a son so strong and so handsome, was struggling against the embarrassment he felt in the presence of his mistress. He moved about restlessly in front of Jakoff, interjecting questions without waiting for replies. Everything seemed to be mixed up in his head, and the culminating point of discomfort was reached when he heard Malva remark in a mocking tone-- "Don't jump about like that ... for joy! Take him to the hut and give him a feed." He glanced at her: a mocking smile, which he knew well, hovered in the corners of her lips, and her whole person, round, soft and fresh as usual, appeared at the same time strange and new to him. Malva was glancing with her green eyes from father to son, while she nibbled carraway seeds with her little white teeth. Jakoff was also smiling, and for a few seconds, which were painful to Vassili, all three were silent. "I shall be back directly!" cried Vassili suddenly, going towards the hut. "Don't stay there in the sun. I am going to fetch some water.... We'll make some soup. I'll give you some fish-soup to taste, Jakoff! You two look after each other; I shall be with you in a minute,..." He caught up an earthenware saucepan which was on the ground near the hut, and retired behind the nets, whose grey folds completely hid him from view. Malva and the lad followed him. "Well, my fine young man, I have brought you to your father!" said Malva, eyeing Jakoff's robust figure. He bent towards her his face, covered with its soft, fair beard, and said with sparkling eyes-- "Yes, here we are!... It's fine to be here.... What a stretch of sea!" "Yes, the sea is wide.... And the old man? Has he changed much?" "No ... no.... I thought he would be whiter, and he has scarcely any grey hairs.... And he's so ... strong!" "How long is it since you have seen each other?" "Five years, perhaps.... When he left the village, I was going on for seventeen."