"We are landing. . . Here we are."

Tchelkache abruptly turned the boat and guided it toward something
black that arose from the water.

The sky was covered with clouds, and a fine, drizzling rain began to
fall, pattering joyously on the crests of the waves.

"Stop! . . . Softly!" ordered Tchelkache.

The bow of the boat hit the hull of a vessel.

"Are the devils sleeping?" growled Tchelkache, catching the ropes
hanging over the side with his boat-hook. "The ladder isn't lowered.
In this rain, besides. . . It couldn't have rained before! Eh! You
vermin, there! Eh!"

"Is that you Selkache?" came softly from above.

"Lower the ladder, will you!"

"Good-day, Selkache."

"Lower the ladder, smoky devil!" roared Tchelkache.

"Oh! Isn't he ill-natured to-day. . . Eh! Oh!"

"Go up, Gavrilo!" commanded Tchelkache to his companion.