Chapter 17 - Page 2

brother, and with a joyful smile which
made her whole face pucker up, touched him on the shoulder and
began making rapid signs to him with her hands, her face, and
whole body.

'That's right, that's right, Stepka is a trump!' answered the
brother, nodding. 'She's fetched everything and mended everything,
she's a trump! Here, take this for it!' He brought out two pieces
of gingerbread from his pocket and gave them to her.

The dumb woman's face flushed with pleasure, and she began making
a weird noise for joy. Having seized the gingerbread she began to
gesticulate still more rapidly, frequently pointing in one
direction and passing her thick finger over her eyebrows and her
face. Lukashka understood her and kept nodding, while he smiled
slightly. She was telling him to give the girls dainties, and that
the girls liked him, and that one girl, Maryanka--the best of them
all--loved him. She indicated Maryanka by rapidly pointing in the
direction of Maryanka's home and to her own eyebrows and face, and
by smacking her lips and swaying her head. 'Loves' she expressed
by pressing her hands to her breast, kissing her hand, and
pretending to embrace someone. Their mother returned to the hut,
and seeing what her dumb daughter was saying, smiled and shook her
head. Her daughter showed her the gingerbread and again made the
noise which expressed joy.

'I told Ulitka the other day that I'd send a matchmaker to them,'
said the mother. 'She took my words well.'

Lukashka looked silently at his mother.

'But how about selling the wine, mother? I need a horse.'

'I'll cart it when I have time. I must get the barrels ready,'
said the mother, evidently not wishing her son to meddle in
domestic matters. 'When you go out you'll find a bag in the
passage. I borrowed from the neighbours and got something for you
to take back to the cordon; or shall I put it in your saddle-bag?'

'All right,' answered Lukashka. 'And if Girey Khan should come
across the river send him to me at the cordon, for I shan't get
leave again for a long time now; I have some business with him.'

He began to get ready to start.

'I will send him on,' said the old women. 'It seems you have been
spreeing at Yamka's all the time. I went out in the night to see
the cattle, and I think it was your voice I heard singing songs.'

Lukashka did not reply, but went out into the passage, threw the
bags over his shoulder, tucked up the skirts of his coat, took his
musket, and then stopped for a moment on the threshold.

'Good-bye, mother!' he said as he closed the gate behind him.
'Send me a small barrel with Nazarka. I promised it to the lads,
and he'll call for it.'

'May Christ keep you, Lukashka.