"How are you, father?"

"Iakov!" cried Vassili, more surprised than pleased.

They embraced three times. Afterwards Vassili's stupor became mingled
with both joy and uneasiness. The watchman stroked his blond beard with
one hand and with the other gesticulated:

"I knew something was up; my heart told me so. So it was you! I kept
asking myself if it was Serejka. But I saw it was not Serejka. How did
you come here?"

Vassili would have liked to look at Malva, but his son's rollicking eyes
were upon him and he did not dare. The pride he felt at having a son so
strong and handsome struggled in him with the embarrassment caused by
the presence of Malva. He shuffled about and kept asking Iakov one
question after another, often without waiting for a reply. His head
felt awhirl, and he felt particularly uneasy when he heard Malva say in
a mocking tone.

"Don't skip about--for joy. Take him to the cabin and give him
something to eat."

The father examined his son from head to foot. On the latter's lips
hovered that cunning smile Vassili knew so well. Malva turned her green
eyes from the father to the son and munched melon seeds between her
small white teeth. Iakov smiled and for a few seconds, which were
painful to Vassili, all three were silent.