long seconds passed。 Cold； wet arms clasped his neck and dark eyes flashed before him。 Then he understood that it was Sasha。
The dull horror； which had suddenly seized him； vanished； replaced now by wild； rebellious joy。 Having dragged the woman out of the water； he grasped her by the waist； clasped her to his breast； and； not knowing what to say to her； he stared into her eyes with astonishment。 She smiled at him caressingly。
〃I am cold；〃 said Sasha； softly； and quivered in every limb。
Foma laughed gaily at the sound of her voice； lifted her into his arms and quickly； almost running； dashed across the rafts to the shore。 She was wet and cold； but her breathing was hot； it burned Foma's cheek and filled his breast with wild joy。
〃You wanted to drown me？〃 said she； firmly； pressing close to him。 〃It was rather too early。 Wait！〃
〃How well you have done it；〃 muttered Foma； as he ran。
〃You're a fine； brave fellow！ And your device wasn't bad； either； though you seem to be so peaceable。〃
〃And they are still roaring there； ha！ ha！〃
〃The devil take them！ If they are drowned； we'll be sent to Siberia；〃 said the woman； as though she wanted to console and encourage him by this。 She began to shiver； and the shudder of her body； felt by Foma； made him hasten his pace。
Sobs and cries for help followed them from the river。 There； on the placid water； floated in the twilight a small island； withdrawing from the shore toward the stream of the main current of the river； and on that little island dark human figures were running about。
Night was closing down upon them。
CHAPTER IX
ONE Sunday afternoon； Yakov Tarasovich Mayakin was drinking tea in his garden and talking to his daughter。 The collar of his shirt unbuttoned； a towel wound round his neck； he sat on a bench under a canopy of verdant cherry…trees； waved his hands in the air； wiped the perspiration off his face； and incessantly poured forth into the air his brisk speech。
〃The man who permits his belly to have the upper hand over him is a fool and a rogue！ Is there nothing better in the world than eating and drinking？ Upon what will you pride yourself before people； if you are like a hog？〃
The old man's eyes sparkled irritably and angrily； his lips twisted with contempt； and the wrinkles of his gloomy face quivered。
〃If Foma were my own son； I would have made a man of him！〃
Playing with an acacia branch； Lubov mutely listened to her father's words； now and then casting a close and searching look in his agitated； quivering face。 Growing older； she changed； without noticing it； her suspicious and cold relation toward the old man。 In his words she now began to find the same ideas that were in her books； and this won her over on her father's side； involuntarily causing the girl to prefer his live words to the cold letters of the book。 Always overwhelmed with business affairs； always alert and clever； he went his own way alone； and she perceived his solitude； knew how painful it was； and her relations toward her father grew in warmth。 At times she even entered into arguments with the old man； he always regarded her remarks contemptuously and sarcastically； but more tenderly and attentively from time to time。
〃If the deceased Ignat could read in the newspapers of the indecent life his son is leading； he would have killed Foma！〃 said Mayakin； striking the table with his fists。 〃How they have written it up！ It's a disgrace！〃
〃He deserves it；〃 said Lubov。
〃I don't say it was done at random！ They've barked at him； as was necessary。 And who was it that got into such a fit of anger？〃
〃What difference does it make to you？〃 asked the girl。
〃It's interesting to know。 How cleverly the rascal described Foma's behaviour。 Evidently he must have been with him and witnessed all the indecency himself。〃
〃Oh； no； he wouldn't go with Foma on a spree！' said Lubov； confidently； and blushed deeply at her father's searching look。
〃So！ You have fine acquaintances； Lubka！ 〃 said Mayakin with humorous bitterness。 〃Well； who wrote it？〃
〃What do you wish to know it for； papa？〃
〃Come； tell me！〃
She had no desire to tell； but the old man persisted； and his voice was growing more and more dry and angry。 Then she asked him uneasily：
〃And you will not do him any ill for it？〃
〃I？ I willbite his head off！ Fool！ What can I do to him？ They； these writers； are not a foolish lot and are therefore a powera power； the devils！ And I am not the governor； and even he cannot put one's hand out of joint or tie one's tongue。 Like mice； they gnaw us little by little。 And we have to poison them not with matches； but with roubles。 Yes！ Well； who is it？〃
〃Do you remember； when I was going to school； a Gymnasium student used to come up to us。 Yozhov？ Such a dark little fellow！〃
〃Mm！ Of course； I saw him。 I know him。 So it's he？〃
〃Yes。〃
〃The little mouse！ Even at that time one could see already that something wrong would come out of him。 Even then he stood in the way of other people。 A bold boy he was。 I should have looked after him then。 Perhaps； I might have made a man of him。〃
Lubov looked at her father； smiled inimically； and asked hotly：
〃And isn't he who writes for newspapers a man？〃
For a long while； the old man did not answer his daughter。 Thoughtfully； he drummed with his fingers against the table and examined his face； which was reflected in the brightly polished brass of the samovar。 Then he raised his head； winked his eyes and said impressively and irritably：
〃They are not men； they are sores！ The blood of the Russian people has become mixed； it has become mixed and spoiled； and from the bad blood have come all these book and newspaper… writers； these terrible Pharisees。 They have broken out everywhere； and they are still breaking out； more and more。 Whence comes this spoiling of the blood？ From slowness of motion。 Whence the mosquitoes； for instance？ From the swamp。 All sorts of uncleanliness multiply in stagnant waters。 The same is true of a disordered life。〃
〃That isn't right； papa！〃 said Lubov； softly。
〃What do you mean bynot right？〃
〃Writers are the most unselfish people； they are noble personalities！ They don't want anythingall they strive for is justicetruth！ They're not mosquitoes。〃
Lubov grew excited as she lauded her beloved people； her face was flushed； and her eyes looked at her father with so much feeling； as though imploring him to believe her； being unable to convince him。
〃Eh； you！〃 said the old man； with a sigh； interrupting her。 〃You've read too much！ You've been poisoned！ Tell mewho are they？ No one knows！ That Yozhovwhat is he？ Only God knows。 All they want is the truth； you say？ What modest people they are！ And suppose truth is the very dearest thing there is？ Perhaps everybody is seeking it in silence？ Believe meman cannot be unselfish。 Man will not fight for what belongs not to him； and if he does fighthis name is 'fool；' and he is of no use to anybody。 A man must be able to stand up for himself； for his own； then will he attain something！ Here you have it！ Truth！ Here I have been reading the same newspaper for almost forty years； and I can see wellhere is my face before you； and before me； there on the samovar is again my face； but it is another face。 You see； these newspapers give a samovar face to everything； and do not see the real one。 And yet you believe them。 But I know that my face on the samovar is distorted。 No one can tell the real truth； man's throat is too delicate for this。 And then； the real truth is known to nobody。〃
〃Papa！〃 exclaimed Lubov； sadly； 〃But in books and in newspapers they defend the general interests of all the people。〃
〃And in what paper is it written that you are weary of life； and that it was time for you to get married？ So； there your interest is not defended！ Eh！ You！ Neither is mine defended。 Who knows what I need？ Who； but myself； understands my interests？〃
〃No； papa； that isn't right； that isn't right！ I cannot refute you； but I feel that this isn't right！〃 said Lubov almost with despair。
〃It is right！〃 said the old man； firmly。 〃Russia is confused； and there is nothing steadfast in it； everything is staggering！ Everybody lives awry； everybody walks on one side； there's no harmony in life。 All are yelling out of tune； in different voices。 And not one understands what the other is in need of！ There is a mist over everythingeverybody inhales that mist； and that's why the blood of the people has become spoiledhence the sores。 Man is given great liberty to reason； but is not permitted to do anythingthat's why man does not live； but rots and stinks。〃
〃What ought one to do； then？〃 asked Lubov； resting her elbows on the table and bending toward her father。
〃Everything！〃 cried the old man； passionately。 〃Do everything。 Go ahead！ Let each man do whatever he knows best！ But for that liberty must be given to mancomplete freedom！ Since there has come a time； when everyraw youth believes that he knows everything and was created for the complete arrangement of life give him； give the rogue freedom！ Here； Carrion； live！ Come； come； live！ Ah！ Then such a comedy will follow； feeling that his bridle is off； man will then rush up higher than his ears； and like a feath