"Yes, very plain; you might as well have no brain." Sereja continued in a mocking tone-- "And you, who are so intelligent!... How many times have you been beaten with birch-rods in the village?" Vassili glanced at him and remained silent "Very often I should think.... And it's a capital idea of your village authorities to drive wisdom upwards, from down below.... And you, what can you do with your brain? Where would you go? What would you invent? Say! Whereas I, without bothering myself about anything, I go straight ahead, and there's an end of it. And I believe I shall go further than you." "It's possible," Vassili agreed. "Perhaps you will even go as far as Siberia...." "Ah! no fear!" And Sereja burst into a frank laugh. In spite of Vassili's hope, Sereja did not lose his head; and that vexed the elder man, who would not offer him a second glass; but Sereja himself solved the difficulty. "Why don't you ask me news of Malva?" "What can it matter to me?" said Vassili indifferently, although he felt a secret presentiment. "As she did not come here on Sunday, you ought to inquire what she was up to. I know you are jealous, you old devil!" "There are plenty like her," said Vassili carelessly. "Many indeed!" said Sereja, imitating him. "Ah! you brutal peasants! Whether you get honey or tar it's all the same to you!" "What do you want to praise her up for? Have you come to offer her to me in marriage? But I married her long ago on my own account!" said Vassili. Sereja looked at him, was silent a moment, and then placing his hand on Vassili's shoulder began speaking to him seriously. "I know that ... I know very well what she is with you. I did not get in your way.... I neither tried to get her nor wanted her. But now this Jakoff, your son, is hanging round her all day; beat him till you make the blood come; do you hear me? If not, it's I who will do the beating.... You are a strong fellow, although you are a regular fool.... But just remember this, I never got in your way." "That's what's the matter then! It's you now who are in love with her?" Vassili questioned, in a thick voice. "Get along with you; if I were sure of myself I would have kicked you all out of the way long ago! But what could I want with her?" "Then why are you meddling?" Sereja opened his eyes wide and laughed. "Why am I meddling?... The devil only knows.... She's a woman, and a spicy one. She pleases me. Or, perhaps, I pity her...." Vassili felt uncomfortable. He realized by the frank laughter of Sereja that the lad was sincere, and that he was not himself running after Malva. But he said-- "If she were a virtuous girl one might pity her. But as it is ... it seems rather queer, doesn't it?" The other man did not answer; he watched the boat making a circle, and turning its bows towards land. Sereja's ruddy face wore an open, good, and simple expression. As he watched him, Vassili's feelings grew softer.