"If the current carries them against the fleet," whispered the peasant, "they'll strike against the bows--and they'll be smashed into splinters.""Keep quiet!"
"They'll drown!"
"You'll get a boat, and overtake them."
"That's it! Thank you. What then? They're after all human beings.
And we'll be held responsible for them." Satisfied now, laughing with delight, the peasant dashed in bounds across the rafts to the shore. And Foma stood by the water and felt a passionate desire to shout something, but he controlled himself, in order to give time for the raft to float off farther, so that those drunken people would not be able to jump across to the moored links. He experienced a pleasant caressing sensation as he saw the raft softly rocking upon the water and floating off farther and farther from him every moment.The heavy and dark feeling, with which his heart had been filled during this time, now seemed to float away together with the people on the raft. Calmly he inhaled the fresh air and with it something sound that cleared his brain. At the very edge of the floating raft stood Sasha, with her back toward Foma; he looked at her beautiful figure and involuntarily recalled Medinskaya. The latter was smaller in size. The recollection of her stung him, and he cried out in a loud, mocking voice:
"Eh, there! Good-bye! Ha! ha! ha!"
Suddenly the dark figures of the people moved toward him and crowded together in one group, in the centre of the raft. But by this time a clear strip of water, about three yards wide, was flashing between them and Foma.
There was a silence lasting for a few seconds.
Then suddenly a hurricane of shrill, repulsively pitiful sounds, which were full of animal fright, was hurled at Foma, and louder than all and more repulsive than all, Zvantzev's shrill, jarring cry pierced the ear:
"He-e-elp!"
Some one--in all probability, the sedate gentleman with the side whiskers--roared in his basso:
"Drowning! They're drowning people!"
"Are you people?" cried Foma, angrily, irritated by their screams which seemed to bite him. And the people ran about on the raft in the madness of fright; the raft rocked under their feet, floated faster on account of this, and the agitated water was loudly splashing against and under it. The screams rent the air, the people jumped about, waving their hands, and the stately figure of Sasha alone stood motionless and speechless on the edge of the raft.
"Give my regards to the crabs!" cried Foma. Foma felt more and more cheerful and relieved in proportion as the raft was floating away from him.
"Foma Ignatyevich!" said Ookhtishchev in a faint, but sober voice, "look out, this is a dangerous joke. I'll make a complaint.""When you are drowned? You may complain!" answered Foma, cheerfully.
"You are a murderer!" exclaimed Zvantzev, sobbing. But at this time a ringing splash of water was heard as though it groaned with fright or with astonishment. Foma shuddered and became as though petrified. Then rang out the wild, deafening shrieks of the women, and the terror-stricken screams of men, and all the figures on the raft remained petrified in their places. And Foma, staring at the water, felt as though he really were petrified. In the water something black, surrounded with splashes, was floating toward him.
Rather instinctively than consciously, Foma threw himself with his chest on the beams of the raft, and stretched out his hands, his head hanging down over the water. Several incredibly 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.
