"Light the lantern. You can't see anything."

"Directly."

And then a spot of dim light fell over the water. Foma saw that
the water was rocking calmly, that a ripple was passing over it,
as though the water were afflicted, and trembled for pain.

"Look! Look!" they whispered on the deck with fright.

At the same time a big, terrible human face, with white teeth set
together, appeared on the spot of light. It floated and rocked in the
water, its teeth seemed to stare at Foma as though saying, with a smile:

"Eh, boy, boy, it is cold. Goodbye!"

The boat-hooks shook, were lifted in the air, were lowered again
into the water and carefully began to push something there.

"Shove him! Shove! Look out, he may be thrown under the wheel."

"Shove him yourself then."

The boat-hooks glided over the side of the steamer, and, scratching
against it, produced a noise like the grinding of teeth. Foma could
not close his eyes for watching them. The noise of feet stamping on
the deck, over his head, was gradually moving toward the stern. And
then again that moaning cry for the dead was heard: