Shackles. S. Skitalec

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      – Trample down!

      They cheerfully trampled down with pleasure smelling grass and joyfully laughed. Then mudflows. From a bright green mowed grass their uncovered heads – one fair-haired, another blond, and two pairs of laughing eyes were seen. To sit now it was soft. The grandfather jumped on a cart nakleska, pulled reins, and Chalka, winding the head, with a grass bunch in teeth, willingly drove the cart back on the former road. The crude grass lay densely. It was heavy to Chalke to trot, but he, probably, tried.

      The zealous country horse was not young any more, but never waited for a whip, carried шагисто, ran a dispute, and in dark nights did not go astray, having remarkable memory on roads. It was the old friend and the grandfather’s companion. Even now, when Chalki’s strengths became any more not those that before, he still in the old manner strove to trot with a heavy cart. But was tired soon and only wound the head as if wanted to tell: “Eh, old age!”

      It was pleasant to come back home, lying on a soft, damp, fragrant grass. On an edge the grandfather stopped Chalka, got down, took out the axe and cut down a young curly birch, having thrust its komly under a grass “for a Trinity”.

      – It is our, hrestyansky, the wood – explained Laurels to the nephew – there was a wish – cut down, nothing for it will be, and before the wood was lordly… the barin died long ago, the wood to us departed! And behind a village fence the merchant bought Dubrov near the village where the mansion remained, together with the earth…

      – Here and there is not enough earth! – the grandfather interfered – swindlers! That there was the barin an earth, and now – a kuptsova!. Than you will live if you will grow up?.

      Children could not answer, puzzly looked at each other. The wood rustled, green walls stood on both sides of the road, the green arch met over their heads. Again the Print lake flashed aside.

      – Let’s reach to the bridge – we will get down – whispered to the friend of Monasteries – on Print we will run!

      When drove on the bridge, there was misfortune: the cart got stuck in dirt; Chalka hardly held on it to the dry coast and suddenly stopped knee-deep in the dense bog. How many the grandfather urged on it, it only wound and shook the head.

      – Eh, old age! – with a sigh the grandfather told and on a shaft got out to the coast. – You what you sit, swindlers? Get down!

      Children got on a shaft after the grandfather. Sucked in Chalka to the bog more and more deeply.

      Then the grandfather выпряг him also looked around: whether looks who? But on a holiday behind the village was nobody.

      – Eh, old age! – again the grandfather repeated, took Chalka one hand for a tail, and another for a mane, planted the feet against the coast so that bast shoes it went to the soft earth, terribly began to roar on Chalka and – pulled out it on the dry place. Then looked back on the parties again, became on chalkino place in shafts, all napruzhinitsya, the back stooped, the head left between big shoulders, and the long beard almost touched the earth. Panting, the grandfather rocked here and there and took out a cart then wiped a sleeve a bald head, put Chalka and suddenly, having angrily threatened with a whip handle, severely told children:

      – You motrit, swindlers, do not stir! I will bungle!

      And though they knew that the grandfather never before flogged anybody but only he swore and in rare instances raised, however involuntarily were afraid: they were frightened by its force; has to be therefore it also never did not beat anybody: was afraid of the force.

      – We on Sittsevo will go! – prositelno told Laurels.

      The grandfather silently sat down on a cart, pulled reins and, already driving off, waved on them a hand.

      Having got over through a stream on the cut-down tree, they ran a forest footpath to the lake. Both were without caps, barefoot and already on the run took off from themselves shirts it is to plunge into the water rather. Print sparkled in the sun between oak trunks. When ran up to the high green coast, on an unruffled surface of the lake, on its middle, floated, being removed, two big proud birds with silver feathers, with long necks and black noses.

      – Swans! – whispered Laurels, threw a shirt on a grass and wanted was with running start to plunge into the water, but on the usual place of bathing someone floundered about and swam, lifting legs the whole column of the splashes sparkling in the sun.

      – Children! – cheerfully the chest female voice cried – you want, I will get a cockleshell?

      – This is Grunka! – said Laurels in low tones.

      The girl disappeared under water and long there remained, only circles on water went.

      Suddenly she jumped out up to a breast over water and with laughter threw it a big brilliant silvery sink.

      The laurels bent to lift a gift, but Vukol as if was dumbfounded, without taking eyes from Gruni. Around the head her snake twisted the black big braid intertwined in white water colors. The dark face with eagle eyes and thin, as if drawn, eyebrows affected it: it seemed to it similar to the person, somewhere seen by it… perhaps, in a dream…

      Grunya swam up to the coast where over water, on low to a tree bough, her dress hung, and rose from water already in a shirt: the shirt was in covering on a breast and on hips and only around a slender waist lay freely, Unwound the long thick plait which fell below knees, squeezed out of it water, threw a lilac dress, and the head tied with a red bandage. By sight it was years sixteen.

      – Lavrusha! This is the nephew, perhaps, yours? – loudly Grunya asked, and her voice began to sound as a pipe.

      – Nephew! – solidly the Laurels answered.

      Grunya looked at Vukol with the unusual eyes, and it seemed to him that she watches derisively.

      – What is your name?

      Vukol stood pale, looking to the earth, and, as captivated, lost gift for speaking, could utter nothing.

      – See you, exactly what tsarevitch!

      Light step there passed Grunya by it and, passing, again burned it with a quizzical glance. It disappeared in the wood, singing the lingering song.

      – Eh, what! – Vukol with surprise told – it is similar to the fisherman’s daughter!

      The laurels did not understand it:

      – She is not the fisherman’s daughter, it Listratov the daughter, at them rolls in money!

      They plunged into the water and floated. Then, having held the breath, fell by a bottom, opened eyes there as before did, and through water as through a chintz, saw each other sitting at a sandy bottom. Therefore the transparent lake – Print was called. Came up upward, splashed and floated as frogs, but Vukol’s memory did not leave an image of the beauty; he wanted to see as soon as possible again it and to look, look endlessly.

      IV

      In the wood the cart with two horsemen drove. The miller Chelyak, stocky, wide, all convex as if a bucket-chelyak СКАЧАТЬ