Fyo

by Ineedalife8394

.

IV

THE time appointed was twelve o'clock, and the prince, returning home unexpectedly late, found the general waiting for him. At the first glance, he saw that the latter

was displeased, perhaps because he had been kept waiting. The prince apologized, and quickly took a seat. He seemed strangely timid before the general this morning, for some

reason, and felt as though his visitor were some piece of chi- na which he was afraid of breaking.

On scrutinizing him, the prince soon saw that the gener- al was quite a different man from what he had been the day before; he looked like one who had come to some momen- tous resolve. His calmness, however, was more apparent than real. He was courteous, but there was a suggestion of injured innocence in his manner.

'I've brought your book back,' he began, indicating a book lying on the table. 'Much obliged to you for lending it to me.'

'Ah, yes. Well, did you read it, general? It's curious, isn't it?' said the prince, delighted to be able to open up conversa- tion upon an outside subject.

'Curious enough, yes, but crude, and of course dreadful nonsense; probably the man lies in every other sentence.'

The general spoke with considerable confidence, and dragged his words out with a conceited drawl.

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'Oh, but it's only the simple tale of an old soldier who saw the French enter Moscow. Some of his remarks were won- derfully interesting. Remarks of an eye-witness are always valuable, whoever he be, don't you think so

'Had I been the publisher I should not have printed it. As to the evidence of eye-witnesses, in these days people pre- fer impudent lies to the stories of men of worth and long service. I know of some notes of the year 1812, which—I have determined, prince, to leave this house, Mr. Lebedeff's house.'

The general looked significantly at his host.

'Of course you have your own lodging at Pavlofsk at— at your daughter's house,' began the prince, quite at a loss what to say. He suddenly recollected that the general had come for advice on a most important matter, affecting his destiny.

'At my wife's; in other words, at my own place, my daugh- ter's house.'

'I beg your pardon, I—'

'I leave Lebedeff's house, my dear prince, because I have quarrelled with this person. I broke with him last night, and am very sorry that I did not do so before. I expect re- spect, prince, even from those to whom I give my heart, so to speak. Prince, I have often given away my heart, and am nearly always deceived. This person was quite unworthy of the gift.'

'There is much that might be improved in him,' said the prince, moderately, 'but he has some qualities which— though amid them one cannot but discern a cunning

The Idiot

nature—reveal what is often a diverting intellect.'

The prince's tone was so natural and respectful that the

general could not possibly suspect him of any insincerity. 'Oh, that he possesses good traits, I was the first to show, when I very nearly made him a present of my friendship. I

am not dependent upon his hospitality, and upon his house; I have my own family. I do not attempt to justify my own weakness. I have drunk with this man, and perhaps I de- plore the fact now, but I did not take him up for the sake of drink alone (excuse the crudeness of the expression, prince); I did not make friends with him for that alone. I was attract- ed by his good qualities; but when the fellow declares that he was a child in 1812, and had his left leg cut off, and buried in the Vagarkoff cemetery, in Moscow, such a cock-and-bull story amounts to disrespect, my dear sir, to—to impudent exaggeration.'

'Oh, he was very likely joking; he said it for fun.'

'I quite understand you. You mean that an innocent lie for the sake of a good joke is harmless, and does not offend the human heart. Some people lie, if you like to put it so, out of pure friendship, in order to amuse their fellows; but when a man makes use of extravagance in order to show his disrespect and to make clear how the intimacy bores him, it is time for a man of honour to break off the said intimacy., and to teach the offender his place.'

The general flushed with indignation as he spoke.

'Oh, but Lebedeff cannot have been in Moscow in 1812. He is much too young; it is all nonsense.'

'Very well, but even if we admit that he was alive in 1812, Free eBooks at Planet

can one believe that a French chasseur pointed a cannon at him for a lark, and shot his left leg off? He says he picked his own leg up and took it away and buried it in the cemetery. He swore he had a stone put up over it with the inscription: 'Here lies the leg of Collegiate Secretary Lebedeff,' and on the other side, 'Rest, beloved ashes, till the morn of joy,' and that he has a service read over it every year (which is simply sacrilege), and goes to Moscow once a year on purpose. He invites me to Moscow in order to prove his assertion, and show me his leg's tomb, and the very cannon that shot him; he says it's the eleventh from the gate of the Kremlin, an old- fashioned falconet taken from the French afterwards.'

'And, meanwhile both his legs are still on his body,' said the prince, laughing. 'I assure you, it is only an innocent joke, and you need not be angry about it.'

'Excuse me—wait a minute—he says that the leg we see is a wooden one, made by Tchernosvitoff.'

'They do say one can dance with those!'

'Quite so, quite so; and he swears that his wife never found out that one of his legs was wooden all the while they were married. When I showed him the ridiculousness of all this, he said, 'Well, if you were one of Napoleon's pages in 1812, you might let me bury my leg in the Moscow cem- etery.'

'Why, did you say—' began the prince, and paused in confusion.

The general gazed at his host disdainfully.

'Oh, go on,' he said, 'finish your sentence, by all means. Say how odd it appears to you that a man fallen to such a

The Idiot

depth of humiliation as I, can ever have been the actual eye- witness of great events. Go on, I don't mind! Has he found time to tell you scandal about me?'

'No, I've heard nothing of this from Lebedeff, if you mean Lebedeff.'

'H'm; I thought differently. You see, we were talking over this period of history. I was criticizing a current report of something which then happened, and having been myself an eyewitness of the occurrence—you are smiling, prince— you are looking at my face as if—'

'Oh no! not at all—I—'

'I am rather young-looking, I know; but I am actually older than I appear to be. I was ten or eleven in the year 1812. I don't know my age exactly, but it has always been a

weakness of mine to make it out less than it really is.

'I assure you, general, I do not in the least doubt your statement. One of our living autobiographers states that when he was a small baby in Moscow in 1812 the French

soldiers fed him with bread.'

'Well, there you see!' said the general, condescendingly.

'There is nothing whatever unusual about my tale. Truth very often appears to be impossible. I was a page—it sounds strange, I dare say. Had I been fifteen years old I should probably have been terribly frightened when the French arrived, as my mother was (who had been too slow about clearing out of Moscow); but as I was only just ten I was not in the least alarmed, and rushed through the crowd to the very door of the palace when Napoleon alighted from his horse.'

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'Undoubtedly, at ten years old you would not have felt the sense of fear, as you say,' blurted out the prince, hor- ribly uncomfortable in the sensation that he was just about to blush.

'Of course; and it all happened so easily and naturally. And yet, were a novelist to describe the episode, he would

put in all kinds of impossible and incredible details.'

'Oh,' cried the prince, 'I have often thought that! Why, I

know of a murder, for the sake of a watch. It's in all the pa- pers now. But if some writer had invented it, all the critics would have jumped down his throat and said the thing was too improbable for anything. And yet you read it in the pa- per, and you can't help thinking that out of these strange disclosures is to be gained the full knowledge of Russian life and character. You said that well, general; it is so true,' con- cluded the prince, warmly, delighted to have found a refuge from the fiery blushes which had covered his face.

'Yes, it's quite true, isn't it?' cried the general, his eyes sparkling with gratification. 'A small boy, a child, would naturally realize no danger; he would shove his way through the crowds to see the shine and glitter of the uniforms, and especially the great man of whom everyone was speaking, for at that time all the world had been talking of no one but this man for some years past. The world was full of his name; I—so to speak—drew it in with my mother's milk. Napoleon, passing a couple of paces from me, caught sight of me accidentally. I was very well dressed, and being all alone, in that crowd, as you will easily imagine...

'Oh, of course! Naturally the sight impressed him, and The Idiot

proved to him that not ALL the aristocracy had left Moscow; that at least some nobles and their children had remained behind.'

Just so just so! He wanted to win over the aristocracy! When his eagle eye fell on me, mine probably flashed back in response.' Voila un garcon bien eveille! Qui est ton pere?' I immediately replied, almost panting with excitement, 'A general, who died on the battle-fields of his country! 'Le fils d'un boyard et d'un brave, pardessus le marche. J'aime les boyards. M'aimes-tu, petit?' To this keen question I replied

as keenly, 'The Russian heart can recognize a great man even in the bitter enemy of his country.' At least, I don't re- member the exact words, you know, but the idea was as I say. Napoleon was struck; he thought a minute and then said to his suite: 'I like that boy's pride; if all Russians think like this child', then he didn't finish, hut went on and entered the palace. I instantly mixed with his suite, and followed him. I was already in high favour. I remember when he came into the first hall, the emperor stopped before a portrait of the Empress Katherine, and after a thoughtful glance remarked,

'That was a great woman,' and passed on.

'Well, in a couple of days I was known all over the pal-

ace and the Kremlin as 'le petit boyard.' I only went home to sleep. They were nearly out of their minds about me at home. A couple of days after this, Napoleon's page, De Ba- zancour, died; he had not been able to stand the trials of the campaign. Napoleon remembered me; I was taken away without explanation; the dead page's uniform was tried on me, and when I was taken before the emperor, dressed in

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it, he nodded his head to me, and I was told that I was ap- pointed to the vacant post of page.

'Well, I was glad enough, for I had long felt the greatest sympathy for this man; and then the pretty uniform and all that— only a child, you know—and so on. It was a dark green dress coat with gold buttons—red facings, white trou- sers, and a white silk waistcoat—silk stockings, shoes with buckles, and top-boots if I were riding out with his majesty or with the suite.

'Though the position of all of us at that time was not par- ticularly brilliant, and the poverty was dreadful all round, yet the etiquette at court was strictly preserved, and the more strictly in proportion to the growth of the forebod- ings of disaster.'

'Quite so, quite so, of course!' murmured the poor prince, who didn't know where to look. 'Your memoirs would be most interesting.'

The general was, of course, repeating what he had told Lebedeff the night before, and thus brought it out glibly enough, but here he looked suspiciously at the prince out of the corners of his eyes.

'My memoirs!' he began, with redoubled pride and dig- nity. 'Write my memoirs? The idea has not tempted me. And yet, if you please, my memoirs have long been written, but they shall not see the light until dust returns to dust. Then, I doubt not, they will be translated into all languages, not of course on account of their actual literary merit, but because of the great events of which I was the actual witness, though but a child at the time. As a child, I was able to penetrate

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into the secrecy of the great man's private room. At nights I have heard the groans and wailings of this 'giant in distress.' He could feel no shame in weeping before such a mere child as I was, though I understood even then that the reason for his suffering was the silence of the Emperor Alexander.'

'Yes, of course; he had written letters to the latter with proposals of peace, had he not?' put in the prince.

'We did not know the details of his proposals, but he wrote letter after letter, all day and every day. He was dread- fully agitated. Sometimes at night I would throw myself upon his breast with tears (Oh, how I loved that man!). 'Ask forgiveness, Oh, ask forgiveness of the Emperor Alexan- der!' I would cry. I should have said, of course, 'Make peace with Alexander,' but as a child I expressed my idea in the naive way recorded. 'Oh, my child,' he would say (he loved to talk to me and seemed to forget my tender years), 'Oh, my child, I am ready to kiss Alexander's feet, but I hate and abominate the King of Prussia and the Austrian Emperor, and—and—but you know nothing of politics, my child.' He would pull up, remembering whom he was speaking to, but his eyes would sparkle for a long while after this. Well now, if I were to describe all this, and I have seen greater events than these, all these critical gentlemen of the press and political parties—Oh, no thanks! I'm their very hum- ble servant, but no thanks!'

'Quite so—parties—you are very right,' said the prince. 'I was reading a book about Napoleon and the Waterloo cam- paign only the other day, by Charasse, in which the author does not attempt to conceal his joy at Napoleon's discom-

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fiture at every page. Well now, I don't like that; it smells of 'party,' you know. You are quite right. And were you much

occupied with your service under Napoleon?'

The general was in ecstasies, for the prince's remarks, made, as they evidently were, in all seriousness and sim-

plicity, quite dissipated the last relics of his suspicion.

'I know Charasse's book! Oh! I was so angry with his

work! I wrote to him and said—I forget what, at this mo- ment. You ask whether I was very busy under the Emperor? Oh no! I was called 'page,' but hardly took my duty seriously. Besides, Napoleon very soon lost hope of conciliating the Russians, and he would have forgotten all about me had he not loved me—for personal reasons— I don't mind saying so now. My heart was greatly drawn to him, too. My duties were light. I merely had to be at the palace occasionally to escort the Emperor out riding, and that was about all. I rode very fairly well. He used to have a ride before dinner, and his suite on those occasions were generally Davoust, myself, and Roustan.'

'Constant?' said the prince, suddenly, and quite involun- tarily.

'No; Constant was away then, taking a letter to the Em- press Josephine. Instead of him there were always a couple of orderlies—and that was all, excepting, of course, the gen- erals and marshals whom Napoleon always took with him for the inspection of various localities, and for the sake of consultation generally. I remember there was one—Da- voust—nearly always with him—a big man with spectacles.

They used to argue and quarrel sometimes. Once they were The Idiot

in the Emperor's study together—just those two and my- self—I was unobserved—and they argued, and the Emperor seemed to be agreeing to something under protest. Sudden- ly his eye fell on me and an idea seemed to flash across him.

'Child,' he said, abruptly. 'If I were to recognize the Rus- sian orthodox religion and emancipate the serfs, do you think Russia would come over to me?''

'Never!' I cried, indignantly.'

'The Emperor was much struck.'

'In the flashing eyes of this patriotic child I read and

accept the fiat of the Russian people. Enough, Davoust, it is mere phantasy on our part. Come, let's hear your other project.''

'Yes, but that was a great idea,' said the prince, clearly in- terested. 'You ascribe it to Davoust, do you?'

'Well, at all events, they were consulting together at the time. Of course it was the idea of an eagle, and must have originated with Napoleon; but the other project was good too—it was the 'Conseil du lion!' as Napoleon called it. This project consisted in a proposal to occupy the Kremlin with the whole army; to arm and fortify it scientifically, to kill as many horses as could be got, and salt their flesh, and spend the winter there; and in spring to fight their way out. Na- poleon liked the idea—it attracted him. We rode round the Kremlin walls every day, and Napoleon used to give orders where they were to be patched, where built up, where pulled down and so on. All was decided at last. They were alone to- gether—those two and myself.

'Napoleon was walking up and down with folded arms. Free eBooks at Planet

I could not take my eyes off his face—my heart beat loudly and painfully.

'I'm off,' said Davoust. 'Where to?' asked Napoleon.

'To salt horse-flesh,' said Davoust. Napoleon shuddered— his fate was being decided.

'Child,' he addressed me suddenly, 'what do you think of our plan?' Of course he only applied to me as a sort of toss- up, you know. I turned to Davoust and addressed my reply to him. I said, as though inspired:

'Escape, general! Go home!—'

'The project was abandoned; Davoust shrugged his shoul- ders and went out, whispering to himself—'Bah, il devient superstitieux!' Next morning the order to retreat was giv- en.'

'All this is most interesting,' said the prince, very softly, 'if it really was so—that is, I mean—' he hastened to correct

himself.

'Oh, my dear prince,' cried the general, who was now so

intoxicated with his own narrative that he probably could not have pulled up at the most patent indiscretion.

'You say, if it really was so!' There was more—much more, I assure you! These are merely a few little political acts. I tell you I was the eye-witness of the nightly sorrow and groan- ings of the great man, and of that no one can speak but myself. Towards the end he wept no more, though he con- tinued to emit an occasional groan; but his face grew more overcast day by day, as though Eternity were wrapping its gloomy mantle about him. Occasionally we passed whole hours of silence together at night, Roustan snoring in the

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next room—that fellow slept like a pig. 'But he's loyal to me and my dynasty,' said Napoleon of him.

'Sometimes it was very painful to me, and once he caught me with tears in my eyes. He looked at me kindly. 'You are sorry for me,' he said, 'you, my child, and perhaps one other child—my son, the King of Rome—may grieve for me. All the rest hate me; and my brothers are the first to betray me in misfortune.' I sobbed and threw myself into his arms. He could not resist me—he burst into tears, and our tears min- gled as we folded each other in a close embrace.

'Write, oh, write a letter to the Empress Josephine!' I cried, sobbing. Napoleon started, reflected, and said, 'You remind me of a third heart which loves me. Thank you, my friend;' and then and there he sat down and wrote that letter to Josephine, with which Constant was sent off next day.'

'You did a good action,' said the prince, 'for in the midst of his angry feelings you insinuated a kind thought into his heart.'

'Just so, prince, just so. How well you bring out that fact! Because your own heart is good!' cried the ecstatic old gen- tleman, and, strangely enough, real tears glistened in his eyes.' Yes, prince, it was a wonderful spectacle. And, do you know, I all but went off to Paris, and should assuredly have shared his solitary exile with him; but, alas, our destinies were otherwise ordered! We parted, he to his island, where I am sure he thought of the weeping child who had embraced him so affectionately at parting in Moscow; and I was sent off to the cadet corps, where I found nothing but roughness and harsh discipline. Alas, my happy days were done!

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'I do not wish to deprive your mother of you, and, there- fore, I will not ask you to go with me,' he said, the morning of his departure, 'but I should like to do something for you.' He was mounting his horse as he spoke. 'Write something in my sister's album for me,' I said rather timidly, for he was in a state of great dejection at the moment. He turned, called for a pen, took the album. 'How old is your sister?' he asked, holding the pen in his hand. 'Three years old,' I said.

'Ah, petite fille alors!' and he wrote in the album:

'Ne mentes jamais! NAPOLEON (votre ami sincere).' 'Such advice, and at such a moment, you must allow,

prince, was—'

'Yes, quite so; very remarkable.'

'This page of the album, framed in gold, hung on the wall

of my sister's drawing-room all her life, in the most conspic- uous place, till the day of her death; where it is now, I really don't know. Heavens! it's two o'clock! HOW I have kept you, prince! It is really most unpardonable of me.

The general rose.

'Oh, not in the least,' said the prince. ' On the contrary, I have been so much interested, I'm really very much obliged to you.'

'Prince,', said the general, pressing his hand, and look- ing at him with flashing eyes, and an expression as though he were under the influence of a sudden thought which had come upon him with stunning force. 'Prince, you are so kind, so simple-minded, that sometimes I really feel sorry for you! I gaze at you with a feeling of real affection. Oh, Heaven bless you! May your life blossom and fructify in

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love. Mine is over. Forgive me, forgive me!'

He left the room quickly, covering his face with his

hands.

The prince could not doubt the sincerity of his agitation.

He understood, too, that the old man had left the room in- toxicated with his own success. The general belonged to that class of liars, who, in spite of their transports of lying, in- variably suspect that they are not believed. On this occasion, when he recovered from his exaltation, he would probably suspect Muishkin of pitying him, and feel insulted.

'Have I been acting rightly in allowing him to develop such vast resources of imagination?' the prince asked him- self. But his answer was a fit of violent laughter which lasted ten whole minutes. He tried to reproach himself for the laughing fit, but eventually concluded that he needn't do so, since in spite of it he was truly sorry for the old man. The same evening he received a strange letter, short but decided.

The general informed him that they must part for ever; that he was grateful, but that even from him he could not accept 'signs of sympathy which were humiliating to the dignity of

a man already miserable enough.'

When the prince heard that the old man had gone to

Nina Alexandrovna, though, he felt almost easy on his ac- count.

We have seen, however, that the general paid a visit to Lizabetha Prokofievna and caused trouble there, the final upshot being that he frightened Mrs. Epanchin, and an- gered her by bitter hints as to his son Gania.

He had been turned out in disgrace, eventually, and this Free eBooks at Planet

was the cause of his bad night and quarrelsome day, which ended in his sudden departure into the street in a condition approaching insanity, as recorded before.

Colia did not understand the position. He tried severity with his father, as they stood in the street after the latter had cursed the household, hoping to bring him round that way.

'Well, where are we to go to now, father?' he asked. 'You don't want to go to the prince's; you have quarrelled with Lebedeff; you have no money; I never have any; and here we are in the middle of the road, in a nice sort of mess.'

'Better to be of a mess than in a mess! I remember making a joke something like that at the mess in eighteen hundred and forty— forty—I forget. 'Where is my youth, where is my golden youth?' Who was it said that, Colia?'

'It was Gogol, in Dead Souls, father,' cried Colia, glancing at him in some alarm.

'Dead Souls,' yes, of course, dead. When I die, Colia, you must engrave on my tomb:

'Here lies a Dead Soul, Shame pursues me.'

'Who said that, Colia?'

'I don't know, father.'

'There was no Eropegoff? Eroshka Eropegoff?' he cried,

suddenly, stopping in the road in a frenzy. 'No Eropegoff! And my own son to say it! Eropegoff was in the place of a brother to me for eleven months. I fought a duel for him. He was married afterwards, and then killed on the field of battle. The bullet struck the cross on my breast and glanced

off straight into his temple. 'I'll never forget you,' he cried, and expired. I served my country well and honestly, Colia,

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but shame, shame has pursued me! You and Nina will come to my grave, Colia; poor Nina, I always used to call her Nina in the old days, and how she loved... Nina, Nina, oh, Nina. What have I ever done to deserve your forgiveness and long- suffering? Oh, Colia, your mother has an angelic spirit, an angelic spirit, Colia!'

'I know that, father. Look here, dear old father, come back home! Let's go back to mother. Look, she ran after us when we came out. What have you stopped her for, just as though you didn't take in what I said? Why are you crying, father?'

Poor Colia cried himself, and kissed the old man's hands

'You kiss my hands, MINE?'

'Yes, yes, yours, yours! What is there to surprise anyone in that? Come, come, you mustn't go on like this, crying in the middle of the road; and you a general too, a military man! Come, let's go back.'

'God bless you, dear boy, for being respectful to a dis- graced man. Yes, to a poor disgraced old fellow, your father. You shall have such a son yourself; le roi de Rome. Oh, curs-

es on this house!'

'Come, come, what does all this mean?' cried Colia be-

side himself at last. 'What is it? What has happened to you? Why don't you wish to come back home? Why have you gone out of your mind, like this?'

'I'll explain it, I'll explain all to you. Don't shout! You shall hear. Le roi de Rome. Oh, I am sad, I am melancholy!

'Nurse, where is your tomb?'' 'Who said that, Colia?'

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'I don't know, I don't know who said it. Come home at once; come on! I'll punch Gania's head myself, if you like— only come. Oh, where are you off to again?' The general was dragging him away towards the door a house near. He sat down on the step, still holding Colia by the hand.

'Bend down—bend down your ear. I'll tell you all—dis- grace—bend down, I'll tell you in your ear.'

'What are you dreaming of?' said poor, frightened Colia, stooping down towards the old man, all the same.

'Le roi de Rome,' whispered the general, trembling all over.

'What? What DO you mean? What roi de Rome?'

'I-I,' the general continued to whisper, clinging more and more tightly to the boy's shoulder. 'I—wish—to tell you— all—MariaMaria Petrovna—Su—Su—Su...'

Colia broke loose, seized his father by the shoulders, and stared into his eyes with frenzied gaze. The old man had grown livid— his lips were shaking, convulsions were pass- ing over his features. Suddenly he leant over and began to sink slowly into Colia's arms.

'He's got a stroke!' cried Colia, loudly, realizing what was the matter at last.

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V

IN point of fact, Varia had rather exaggerated the certain- ty of her news as to the prince's betrothal to Aglaya. Very likely, with the perspicacity of her sex, she gave out as an

accomplished fact what she felt was pretty sure to become a fact in a few days. Perhaps she could not resist the satisfac- tion of pouring one last drop of bitterness into her brother Gania's cup, in spite of her love for him. At all events, she had been unable to obtain any definite news from the Ep- anchin girls—the most she could get out of them being hints and surmises, and so on. Perhaps Aglaya's sisters had mere- ly been pumping Varia for news while pretending to impart information; or perhaps, again, they had been unable to re- sist the feminine gratification of teasing a friend—for, after all this time, they could scarcely have helped divining the aim of her frequent visits.

On the other hand, the prince, although he had told Leb- edeff,—as we know, that nothing had happened, and that he had nothing to impart,—the prince may have been in error. Something strange seemed to have happened, without any- thing definite having actually happened. Varia had guessed that with her true feminine instinct.

How or why it came about that everyone at the Epanchins' became imbued with one conviction—that something very important had happened to Aglaya, and that her fate was in

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process of settlement—it would be very difficult to explain. But no sooner had this idea taken root, than all at once de- clared that they had seen and observed it long ago; that they had remarked it at the time of the 'poor knight' joke, and even before, though they had been unwilling to believe in such nonsense.

So said the sisters. Of course, Lizabetha Prokofievna had foreseen it long before the rest; her 'heart had been sore' for a long while, she declared, and it was now so sore that she appeared to be quite overwhelmed, and the very thought of the prince became distasteful to her.

There was a question to be decided—most important, but most difficult; so much so, that Mrs. Epanchin did not even see how to put it into words. Would the prince do or not? Was all this good or bad? If good (which might be the case, of course), WHY good? If bad (which was hardly doubtful), WHEREIN, especially, bad? Even the general, the paterfa- milias, though astonished at first, suddenly declared that,

'upon his honour, he really believed he had fancied some- thing of the kind, after all. At first, it seemed a new idea, and then, somehow, it looked as familiar as possible.' His wife frowned him down there. This was in the morning; but in the evening, alone with his wife, he had given tongue again.

'Well, really, you know'—(silence)—'of course, you know all this is very strange, if true, which I cannot deny; but'— (silence).—' But, on the other hand, if one looks things in the face, you know—upon my honour, the prince is a rare good fellow— and—and—and—well, his name, you know—your

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family name—all this looks well, and perpetuates the name and title and all that— which at this moment is not stand- ing so high as it might—from one point of view—don't you know? The world, the world is the world, of course—and people will talk—and—and—the prince has property, you know—if it is not very large—and then he—he—' (Contin- ued silence, and collapse of the general.)

Hearing these words from her husband, Lizabetha Pro- kofievna was driven beside herself.

According to her opinion, the whole thing had been one huge, fantastical, absurd, unpardonable mistake. 'First of all, this prince is an idiot, and, secondly, he is a fool— knows nothing of the world, and has no place in it. Whom can he be shown to? Where can you take him to? What will old Bielokonski say? We never thought of such a husband as THAT for our Aglaya!'

Of course, the last argument was the chief one. The ma- ternal heart trembled with indignation to think of such an absurdity, although in that heart there rose another voice, which said: 'And WHY is not the prince such a husband as you would have desired for Aglaya?' It was this voice which annoyed Lizabetha Prokofievna more than anything else.

For some reason or other, the sisters liked the idea of the prince. They did not even consider it very strange; in a word, they might be expected at any moment to range themselves strongly on his side. But both of them decided to say noth- ing either way. It had always been noticed in the family that the stronger Mrs. Epanchin's opposition was to any project, the nearer she was, in reality, to giving in.

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Alexandra, however, found it difficult to keep absolute si- lence on the subject. Long since holding, as she did, the post of 'confidential adviser to mamma,' she was now perpetu- ally called in council, and asked her opinion, and especially her assistance, in order to recollect 'how on earth all this happened?' Why did no one see it? Why did no one say any- thing about it? What did all that wretched 'poor knight' joke mean? Why was she, Lizabetha Prokofievna, driven to think, and foresee, and worry for everybody, while they all sucked their thumbs, and counted the crows in the garden, and did nothing? At first, Alexandra had been very careful, and had merely replied that perhaps her father's remark was not so far out: that, in the eyes of the world, probably the choice of the prince as a husband for one of the Epanchin girls would be considered a very wise one. Warming up, however, she added that the prince was by no means a fool, and never had been; and that as to 'place in the world,' no one knew what the position of a respectable person in Rus- sia would imply in a few years—whether it would depend on successes in the government service, on the old system, or what.

To all this her mother replied that Alexandra was a free- thinker, and that all this was due to that 'cursed woman's rights question.'

Half an hour after this conversation, she went off to town, and thence to the Kammenny Ostrof, ["Stone Island,' a sub- urb and park of St. Petersburg] to see Princess Bielokonski, who had just arrived from Moscow on a short visit. The princess was Aglaya's godmother.

The Idiot

'Old Bielokonski"listened to all the fevered and despair- ing lamentations of Lizabetha Prokofievna without the least emotion; the tears of this sorrowful mother did not evoke answering sighs— in fact, she laughed at her. She was a dreadful old despot, this princess; she could not allow equality in anything, not even in friendship of the old- est standing, and she insisted on treating Mrs. Epanchin as her protegee, as she had been thirty-five years ago. She could never put up with the independence and energy of Lizabetha's character. She observed that, as usual, the whole family had gone much too far ahead, and had converted a fly into an elephant; that, so far as she had heard their sto- ry, she was persuaded that nothing of any seriousness had occurred; that it would surely be better to wait until some- thing DID happen; that the prince, in her opinion, was a very decent young fellow, though perhaps a little eccentric, through illness, and not quite as weighty in the world as one could wish. The worst feature was, she said, Nastasia Philipovna.

Lizabetha Prokofievna well understood that the old lady was angry at the failure of Evgenie Pavlovitch—her own recommendation. She returned home to Pavlofsk in a worse humour than when she left, and of course everybody in the house suffered. She pitched into everyone, because, she declared, they had 'gone mad.' Why were things al- ways mismanaged in her house? Why had everybody been in such a frantic hurry in this matter? So far as she could see, nothing whatever had happened. Surely they had better wait and see what was to happen, instead of making moun-

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tains out of molehills.

And so the conclusion of the matter was that it would

be far better to take it quietly, and wait coolly to see what would turn up. But, alas! peace did not reign for more than ten minutes. The first blow dealt to its power was in certain news communicated to Lizabetha Prokofievna as to events which bad happened during her trip to see the princess. (This trip had taken place the day after that on which the prince had turned up at the Epanchins at nearly one o'clock at night, thinking it was nine.)

The sisters replied candidly and fully enough to their mother's impatient questions on her return. They said, in the first place, that nothing particular had happened since her departure; that the prince had been, and that Aglaya had kept him waiting a long while before she appeared—half an hour, at least; that she had then come in, and immediately asked the prince to have a game of chess; that the prince did not know the game, and Aglaya had beaten him easily; that she had been in a wonderfully merry mood, and had laughed at the prince, and chaffed him so unmercifully that one was quite sorry to see his wretched expression.

She had then asked him to play cards—the game called 'little fools.' At this game the tables were turned completely, for the prince had shown himself a master at it. Aglaya had

cheated and changed cards, and stolen others, in the most bare-faced way, but, in spite of everything the prince had beaten her hopelessly five times running, and she had been left 'little fool' each time.

Aglaya then lost her temper, and began to say such aw- The Idiot

ful things to the prince that he laughed no more, but grew dreadfully pale, especially when she said that she should not remain in the house with him, and that he ought to be ashamed of coming to their house at all, especially at night,

'AFTER ALL THAT HAD HAPPENED.'

So saying, she had left the room, banging the door after

her, and the prince went off, looking as though he were on his way to a funeral, in spite of all their attempts at conso- lation.

Suddenly, a quarter of an hour after the prince's depar- ture, Aglaya had rushed out of her room in such a hurry that she had not even wiped her eyes, which were full of tears. She came back because Colia had brought a hedge- hog. Everybody came in to see the hedgehog. In answer to their questions Colia explained that the hedgehog was not his, and that he had left another boy, Kostia Lebedeff, wait- ing for him outside. Kostia was too shy to come in, because he was carrying a hatchet; they had bought the hedgehog and the hatchet from a peasant whom they had met on the road. He had offered to sell them the hedgehog, and they had paid fifty copecks for it; and the hatchet had so taken their fancy that they had made up their minds to buy it of their own accord. On hearing this, Aglaya urged Colia to sell her the hedgehog; she even called him 'dear Colia,' in trying to coax him. He refused for a long time, but at last he could hold out no more, and went to fetch Kostia Lebe- deff. The latter appeared, carrying his hatchet, and covered with confusion. Then it came out that the hedgehog was not theirs, but the property of a schoolmate, one Petroff, who

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had given them some money to buy Schlosser's History for him, from another schoolfellow who at that moment was driven to raising money by the sale of his books. Colia and Kostia were about to make this purchase for their friend when chance brought the hedgehog to their notice, and they had succumbed to the temptation of buying it. They were now taking Petroff the hedgehog and hatchet which they had bought with his money, instead of Schiosser's History. But Aglaya so entreated them that at last they consented to sell her the hedgehog. As soon as she had got possession of it, she put it in a wicker basket with Colia's help, and cov- ered it with a napkin. Then she said to Colia: 'Go and take this hedgehog to the prince from me, and ask him to accept it as a token of my profound respect.' Colia joyfully prom- ised to do the errand, but he demanded explanations. 'What does the hedgehog mean? What is the meaning of such a present?' Aglaya replied that it was none of his business. ' I am sure that there is some allegory about it,' Colia persisted. Aglaya grew angry, and called him 'a silly boy.' 'If I did not respect all women in your person,' replied Colia, 'and if my own principles would permit it, I would soon prove to you, that I know how to answer such an insult!' But, in the end, Colia went off with the hedgehog in great delight, followed by Kostia Lebedeff. Aglaya's annoyance was soon over, and seeing that Colia was swinging the hedgehog's basket vio- lently to and fro, she called out to him from the verandah, as if they had never quarrelled: 'Colia, dear, please take care not to drop him!' Colia appeared to have no grudge against her, either, for he stopped, and answered most cordially:

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'No, I will not drop him! Don't be afraid, Aglaya Ivanovna!' After which he went on his way. Aglaya burst out laughing and ran up to her room, highly delighted. Her good spirits

lasted the whole day.

All this filled poor Lizabetha's mind with chaotic confu-

sion. What on earth did it all mean? The most disturbing feature was the hedgehog. What was the symbolic significa- tion of a hedgehog? What did they understand by it? What underlay it? Was it a cryptic message?

Poor General Epanchin 'put his foot in it' by answering the above questions in his own way. He said there was no cryptic message at all. As for the hedgehog, it was just a hedgehog, which meant nothing—unless, indeed, it was a pledge of friendship,—the sign of forgetting of offences and so on. At all events, it was a joke, and, of course, a most par- donable and innocent one.

We may as well remark that the general had guessed per- fectly accurately.

The prince, returning home from the interview with Aglaya, had sat gloomy and depressed for half an hour. He was almost in despair when Colia arrived with the hedge-

hog.

Then the sky cleared in a moment. The prince seemed to

arise from the dead; he asked Colia all about it, made him repeat the story over and over again, and laughed and shook hands with the boys in his delight.

It seemed clear to the prince that Aglaya forgave him, and that he might go there again this very evening; and in his eyes that was not only the main thing, but everything

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in the world.

'What children we are still, Colia!' he cried at last, enthu-

siastically,—'and how delightful it is that we can be children still!'

'Simply—my dear prince,—simply she is in love with you,—that's the whole of the secret!' replied Colia, with au- thority.

The prince blushed, but this time he said nothing. Colia burst out laughing and clapped his hands. A minute later the prince laughed too, and from this moment until the eve- ning he looked at his watch every other minute to see how much time he had to wait before evening came.

But the situation was becoming rapidly critical.

Mrs. Epanchin could bear her suspense no longer, and in spite of the opposition of husband and daughters, she sent for Aglaya, determined to get a straightforward answer out of her, once for all.

'Otherwise,' she observed hysterically, 'I shall die before evening.'

It was only now that everyone realized to what a ridicu- lous deadlock the whole matter had been brought. Excepting feigned surprise, indignation, laughter, and jeering—both at the prince and at everyone who asked her questions,— nothing could be got out of Aglaya.

Lizabetha Prokofievna went to bed and only rose again in time for tea, when the prince might be expected.

She awaited him in trembling agitation; and when he at last arrived she nearly went off into hysterics.

Muishkin himself came in very timidly. He seemed to The Idiot

feel his way, and looked in each person's eyes in a question- ing way,—for Aglaya was absent, which fact alarmed him at once.

This evening there were no strangers present—no one but the immediate members of the family. Prince S. was still in town, occupied with the affairs of Evgenie Pavlov- itch's uncle.

'I wish at least HE would come and say something!' com- plained poor Lizabetha Prokofievna.

The general sat still with a most preoccupied air. The sisters were looking very serious and did not speak a word, and Lizabetha Prokofievna did not know how to commence the conversation.

At length she plunged into an energetic and hostile criti- cism of railways, and glared at the prince defiantly.

Alas Aglaya still did not come—and the prince was quite lost. He had the greatest difficulty in expressing his opin- ion that railways were most useful institutions,—and in the middle of his speech Adelaida laughed, which threw him into a still worse state of confusion.

At this moment in marched Aglaya, as calm and collect- ed as could be. She gave the prince a ceremonious bow and solemnly took up a prominent position near the big round table. She looked at the prince questioningly.

All present realized that the moment for the settlement of perplexities had arrived.

'Did you get my hedgehog?' she inquired, firmly and al- most angrily.

Yes, I got it,' said the prince, blushing.

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'Tell us now, at once, what you made of the present? I must have you answer this question for mother's sake; she needs pacifying, and so do all the rest of the family!'

'Look here, Aglaya—' began the general.

'This—this is going beyond all limits!' said Lizabetha Prokofievna, suddenly alarmed.

'It is not in the least beyond all limits, mamma!' said her daughter, firmly. 'I sent the prince a hedgehog this morning, and I wish to hear his opinion of it. Go on, prince.'

'What—what sort of opinion, Aglaya Ivanovna?'

'About the hedgehog.'

'That is—I suppose you wish to know how I received the

hedgehog, Aglaya Ivanovna,—or, I should say, how I regard- ed your sending him to me? In that case, I may tell you—in a word—that I—in fact—'

He paused, breathless.

'Come—you haven't told us much!' said Aglaya, after

waiting some five seconds. 'Very well, I am ready to drop the hedgehog, if you like; but I am anxious to be able to clear up this accumulation of misunderstandings. Allow me to ask you, prince,—I wish to hear from you, person- ally—are you making me an offer, or not?'

'Gracious heavens!' exclaimed Lizabetha Prokofievna. The prince started. The general stiffened in his chair; the

sisters frowned.

'Don't deceive me now, prince—tell the truth. All these

people persecute me with astounding questions—about you. Is there any ground for all these questions, or not? Come!'

'I have not asked you to marry me yet, Aglaya Ivanov- The Idiot

na,' said the prince, becoming suddenly animated; 'but you know yourself how much I love you and trust you.'

'No—I asked you this—answer this! Do you intend to ask for my band, or not?'

'Yes—I do ask for it!' said the prince, more dead than alive now.

There was a general stir in the room.

'No—no—my dear girl,' began the general. 'You cannot proceed like this, Aglaya, if that's how the matter stands. It's impossible. Prince, forgive it, my dear fellow, but— Lizabetha Prokofievna!'—he appealed to his spouse for help—'you must really—'

'Not I—not I! I retire from all responsibility,' said Liza- betha Prokofievna, with a wave of the hand.

'Allow me to speak, please, mamma,' said Aglaya. 'I think I ought to have something to say in the matter. An impor- tant moment of my destiny is about to be decided'—(this is how Aglaya expressed herself)—'and I wish to find out how the matter stands, for my own sake, though I am glad you are all here. Allow me to ask you, prince, since you cherish those intentions, how you consider that you will provide for my happiness?'

'I—I don't quite know how to answer your question, Aglaya Ivanovna. What is there to say to such a question? And—and must I answer?'

'I think you are rather overwhelmed and out of breath. Have a little rest, and try to recover yourself. Take a glass of water, or—but they'll give you some tea directly.'

'I love you, Aglaya Ivanovna,—I love you very much. I Free eBooks at Planet

love only you—and—please don't jest about it, for I do love you very much.'

'Well, this matter is important. We are not children—we must look into it thoroughly. Now then, kindly tell me— what does your fortune consist of?'

'No—Aglaya—come, enough of this, you mustn't behave like this,' said her father, in dismay.

'It's disgraceful,' said Lizabetha Prokofievna in a loud whisper.

'She's mad—quite!' said Alexandra.

'Fortune—money—do you mean?' asked the prince in some surprise.

'Just so.'

'I have now—let's see—I have a hundred and thirty-five thousand roubles,' said the prince, blushing violently.

'Is that all, really?' said Aglaya, candidly, without the slightest show of confusion. 'However, it's not so bad, espe- cially if managed with economy. Do you intend to serve?'

'I—I intended to try for a certificate as private tutor.'

'Very good. That would increase our income nicely. Have you any intention of being a Kammer-junker?'

'A Kammer-junker? I had not thought of it, but—'

But here the two sisters could restrain themselves no

longer, and both of them burst into irrepressible laughter. Adelaida had long since detected in Aglaya's features the gathering signs of an approaching storm of laughter, which

she restrained with amazing self-control.

Aglaya looked menacingly at her laughing sisters, but

could not contain herself any longer, and the next minute The Idiot

she too had burst into an irrepressible, and almost hysteri- cal, fit of mirth. At length she jumped up, and ran out of the room.

'I knew it was all a joke!' cried Adelaida. 'I felt it ever since—since the hedgehog.'

'No, no! I cannot allow this,—this is a little too much,' cried Lizabetha Prokofievna, exploding with rage, and she rose from her seat and followed Aglaya out of the room as quickly as she could.

The two sisters hurriedly went after her.

The prince and the general were the only two persons left in the room.

'It's—it's really—now could you have imagined anything like it, Lef Nicolaievitch?' cried the general. He was evident- ly so much agitated that he hardly knew what he wished to say. 'Seriously now, seriously I mean—'

'I only see that Aglaya Ivanovna is laughing at me,' said the poor prince, sadly.

'Wait a bit, my boy, I'll just go—you stay here, you know. But do just explain, if you can, Lef Nicolaievitch, how in the world has all this come about? And what does it all mean? You must understand, my dear fellow; I am a father, you see, and I ought to be allowed to understand the matter—do ex- plain, I beg you!'

'I love Aglaya Ivanovna—she knows it,—and I think she must have long known it.'

The general shrugged his shoulders.

'Strange—it's strange,' he said, 'and you love her very much?'

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'Yes, very much.'

'Well—it's all most strange to me. That is—my dear fel- low, it is such a surprise—such a blow—that... You see, it is not your financial position (though I should not object if you were a bit richer)—I am thinking of my daughter's hap- piness, of course, and the thing is—are you able to give her the happiness she deserves? And then—is all this a joke on her part, or is she in earnest? I don't mean on your side, but on hers.'

At this moment Alexandra's voice was heard outside the door, calling out 'Papa!'

'Wait for me here, my boy—will you? Just wait and think it all over, and I'll come back directly,' he said hurriedly, and made off with what looked like the rapidity of alarm in response to Alexandra's call.

He found the mother and daughter locked in one anoth- er's arms, mingling their tears.

These were the tears of joy and peace and reconciliation. Aglaya was kissing her mother's lips and cheeks and hands;

they were hugging each other in the most ardent way. 'There, look at her now—Ivan Fedorovitch! Here she is—

all of her! This is our REAL Aglaya at last!' said Lizabetha Prokofievna.

Aglaya raised her happy, tearful face from her mother's breast, glanced at her father, and burst out laughing. She sprang at him and hugged him too, and kissed him over and over again. She then rushed back to her mother and hid her face in the maternal bosom, and there indulged in more tears. Her mother covered her with a corner of her shawl.

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'Oh, you cruel little girl! How will you treat us all next, I wonder?' she said, but she spoke with a ring of joy in her voice, and as though she breathed at last without the op- pression which she had felt so long.

'Cruel?' sobbed Aglaya. 'Yes, I AM cruel, and worthless, and spoiled—tell father so,—oh, here he is—I forgot Father, listen!' She laughed through her tears.

'My darling, my little idol,' cried the general, kissing and fondling her hands (Aglaya did not draw them away); 'so you love this young man, do you?'

'No, no, no, can't BEAR him, I can't BEAR your young man!' cried Aglaya, raising her head. 'And if you dare say that ONCE more, papa—I'm serious, you know, I'm,—do you hear me—I'm serious!'

She certainly did seem to be serious enough. She had flushed up all over and her eyes were blazing.

The general felt troubled and remained silent, while Liza- betha Prokofievna telegraphed to him from behind Aglaya to ask no questions.

'If that's the case, darling—then, of course, you shall do exactly as you like. He is waiting alone downstairs. Hadn't I better hint to him gently that he can go?' The general tele- graphed to Lizabetha Prokofievna in his turn.

'No, no, you needn't do anything of the sort; you mustn't hint gently at all. I'll go down myself directly. I wish to apol- ogize to this young man, because I hurt his feelings.'

'Yes, SERIOUSLY,' said the general, gravely.

'Well, you'd better stay here, all of you, for a little, and I'll go down to him alone to begin with. I'll just go in and then

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you can follow me almost at once. That's the best way.'

She had almost reached the door when she turned round

again.

'I shall laugh—I know I shall; I shall die of laughing,' she

said, lugubriously.

However, she turned and ran down to the prince as fast

as her feet could carry her.

'Well, what does it all mean? What do you make of it?'

asked the general of his spouse, hurriedly.

'I hardly dare say,' said Lizabetha, as hurriedly, 'but I

think it's as plain as anything can be.'

'I think so too, as clear as day; she loves him.'

'Loves him? She is head over ears in love, that's what she

is,' put in Alexandra.

'Well, God bless her, God bless her, if such is her destiny,'

said Lizabetha, crossing herself devoutly.

'H'm destiny it is,' said the general, 'and there's no getting

out of destiny.'

With these words they all moved off towards the draw-

ing-room, where another surprise awaited them. Aglaya had not only not laughed, as she had feared, but had gone to the prince rather timidly, and said to him:

'Forgive a silly, horrid, spoilt girl'—(she took his hand here)— 'and be quite assured that we all of us esteem you beyond all words. And if I dared to turn your beautiful, ad- mirable simplicity to ridicule, forgive me as you would a little child its mischief. Forgive me all my absurdity of just now, which, of course, meant nothing, and could not have the slightest consequence.' She spoke these words with great

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emphasis.

Her father, mother, and sisters came into the room and

were much struck with the last words, which they just caught as they entered—'absurdity which of course meant nothing'—and still more so with the emphasis with which

Aglaya had spoken.

They exchanged glances questioningly, but the prince

did not seem to have understood the meaning of Aglaya's words; he was in the highest heaven of delight.

'Why do you speak so?' he murmured. 'Why do you ask my forgiveness?'

He wished to add that he was unworthy of being asked for forgiveness by her, but paused. Perhaps he did under- stand Aglaya's sentence about 'absurdity which meant nothing,' and like the strange fellow that he was, rejoiced in the words.

Undoubtedly the fact that he might now come and see Aglaya as much as he pleased again was quite enough to make him perfectly happy; that he might come and speak to her, and see her, and sit by her, and walk with her—who knows, but that all this was quite enough to satisfy him for the whole of his life, and that he would desire no more to

the end of time?

(Lizabetha Prokofievna felt that this might be the case,

and she didn't like it; though very probably she could not have put the idea into words.)

It would be difficult to describe the animation and high spirits which distinguished the prince for the rest of the evening.

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He was so happy that 'it made one feel happy to look at him,' as Aglaya's sisters expressed it afterwards. He talked, and told stories just as he had done once before, and never since, namely on the very first morning of his acquaintance with the Epanchins, six months ago. Since his return to Pe- tersburg from Moscow, he had been remarkably silent, and had told Prince S. on one occasion, before everyone, that he did not think himself justified in degrading any thought by his unworthy words.

But this evening he did nearly all the talking himself, and told stories by the dozen, while he answered all questions put to him clearly, gladly, and with any amount of detail.

There was nothing, however, of love-making in his talk. His ideas were all of the most serious kind; some were even mystical and profound.

He aired his own views on various matters, some of his most private opinions and observations, many of which would have seemed rather funny, so his hearers agreed af- terwards, had they not been so well expressed.

The general liked serious subjects of conversation; but both he and Lizabetha Prokofievna felt that they were hav- ing a little too much of a good thing tonight, and as the evening advanced, they both grew more or less melancholy; but towards night, the prince fell to telling funny stories, and was always the first to burst out laughing himself, which he invariably did so joyously and simply that the rest laughed just as much at him as at his stories.

As for Aglaya, she hardly said a word all the evening; but she listened with all her ears to Lef Nicolaievitch's talk, and

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scarcely took her eyes off him.

'She looked at him, and stared and stared, and hung

on every word he said,' said Lizabetha afterwards, to her husband, 'and yet, tell her that she loves him, and she is fu- rious!'

'What's to be done? It's fate,' said the general, shrugging his shoulders, and, for a long while after, he continued to repeat: 'It's fate, it's fate!'

We may add that to a business man like General Epanchin the present position of affairs was most unsatisfactory. He hated the uncertainty in which they had been, perforce, left. However, he decided to say no more about it, and merely to look on, and take his time and tune from Lizabetha Proko- fievna.

The happy state in which the family had spent the eve- ning, as just recorded, was not of very long duration. Next day Aglaya quarrelled with the prince again, and so she continued to behave for the next few days. For whole hours at a time she ridiculed and chaffed the wretched man, and made him almost a laughingstock.

It is true that they used to sit in the little summer-house together for an hour or two at a time, very often, but it was observed that on these occasions the prince would read the paper, or some book, aloud to Aglaya.

'Do you know,' Aglaya said to him once, interrupting the reading, 'I've remarked that you are dreadfully badly ed- ucated. You never know anything thoroughly, if one asks you; neither anyone's name, nor dates, nor about treaties and so on. It's a great pity, you know!'

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'I told you I had not had much of an education,' replied the prince.

'How am I to respect you, if that's the case? Read on now. No— don't! Stop reading!'

And once more, that same evening, Aglaya mystified them all. Prince S. had returned, and Aglaya was particu- larly amiable to him, and asked a great deal after Evgenie Pavlovitch. (Muishkin had not come in as yet.)

Suddenly Prince S. hinted something about 'a new and approaching change in the family.' He was led to this re- mark by a communication inadvertently made to him by Lizabetha Prokofievna, that Adelaida's marriage must be postponed a little longer, in order that the two weddings might come off together.

It is impossible to describe Aglaya's irritation. She flared up, and said some indignant words about 'all these silly in- sinuations.' She added that 'she had no intentions as yet of replacing anybody's mistress.'

These words painfully impressed the whole party; but especially her parents. Lizabetha Prokofievna summoned a secret council of two, and insisted upon the general's de- manding from the prince a full explanation of his relations with Nastasia Philipovna. The general argued that it was only a whim of Aglaya's; and that, had not Prince S. unfor- tunately made that remark, which had confused the child and made her blush, she never would have said what she did; and that he was sure Aglaya knew well that anything she might have heard of the prince and Nastasia Philipovna was merely the fabrication of malicious tongues, and that

The Idiot

the woman was going to marry Rogojin. He insisted that the prince had nothing whatever to do with Nastasia Phili- povna, so far as any liaison was concerned; and, if the truth were to be told about it, he added, never had had.

Meanwhile nothing put the prince out, and he contin- ued to be in the seventh heaven of bliss. Of course he could not fail to observe some impatience and ill-temper in Agla- ya now and then; but he believed in something else, and nothing could now shake his conviction. Besides, Aglaya's frowns never lasted long; they disappeared of themselves.

Perhaps he was too easy in his mind. So thought Hip- polyte, at all events, who met him in the park one day.

'Didn't I tell you the truth now, when I said you were in love?' he said, coming up to Muishkin of his own accord, and stopping him.

The prince gave him his hand and congratulated him upon 'looking so well.'

Hippolyte himself seemed to be hopeful about his state of health, as is often the case with consumptives.

He had approached the prince with the intention of talk- ing sarcastically about his happy expression of face, but very soon forgot his intention and began to talk about himself. He began complaining about everything, disconnectedly and endlessly, as was his wont.

'You wouldn't believe,' he concluded, 'how irritating they all are there. They are such wretchedly small, vain, egotisti- cal, COMMONPLACE people! Would you believe it, they invited me there under the express condition that I should die quickly, and they are all as wild as possible with me for

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not having died yet, and for being, on the contrary, a good deal better! Isn't it a comedy? I don't mind betting that you don't believe me!'

The prince said nothing.

'I sometimes think of coming over to you again,' said Hippolyte, carelessly. 'So you DON'T think them capable of inviting a man on the condition that he is to look sharp and die?'

'I certainly thought they invited you with quite other views.'

'Ho, ho! you are not nearly so simple as they try to make you out! This is not the time for it, or I would tell you a thing or two about that beauty, Gania, and his hopes. You are being undermined, pitilessly undermined, and—and it is really melancholy to see you so calm about it. But alas! it's your nature—you can't help it!'

'My word! what a thing to be melancholy about! Why, do you think I should be any happier if I were to feel disturbed about the excavations you tell me of?'

'It is better to be unhappy and know the worst, than to be happy in a fool's paradise! I suppose you don't believe that you have a rival in that quarter?'

'Your insinuations as to rivalry are rather cynical, Hip- polyte. I'm sorry to say I have no right to answer you! As for Gania, I put it to you, CAN any man have a happy mind af- ter passing through what he has had to suffer? I think that is the best way to look at it. He will change yet, he has lots of time before him, and life is rich; besides—besides...' the prince hesitated. 'As to being undermined, I don't know

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what in the world you are driving at, Hippolyte. I think we had better drop the subject!'

'Very well, we'll drop it for a while. You can't look at any- thing but in your exalted, generous way. You must put out your finger and touch a thing before you'll believe it, eh? Ha! ha! ha! I suppose you despise me dreadfully, prince, eh? What do you think?'

'Why? Because you have suffered more than we have?'

'No; because I am unworthy of my sufferings, if you like!'

'Whoever CAN suffer is worthy to suffer, I should think. Aglaya Ivanovna wished to see you, after she had read your

confession, but—'

'She postponed the pleasure—I see—I quite understand!'

said Hippolyte, hurriedly, as though he wished to banish the subject. 'I hear—they tell me—that you read her all that nonsense aloud? Stupid @ bosh it was—written in delirium. And I can't understand how anyone can be so I won't say CRUEL, because the word would be humiliating to myself, but we'll say childishly vain and revengeful, as to RE- PROACH me with this confession, and use it as a weapon against me. Don't be afraid, I'm not referring to yourself.'

'Oh, but I'm sorry you repudiate the confession, Hip- polyte—it is sincere; and, do you know, even the absurd parts of it—and these are many' (here Hippolyte frowned savagely) 'are, as it were, redeemed by suffering—for it must have cost you something to admit what you there say—great torture, perhaps, for all I know. Your motive must have been a very noble one all through. Whatever may have ap-

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peared to the contrary, I give you my word, I see this more plainly every day. I do not judge you; I merely say this to have it off my mind, and I am only sorry that I did not say it all THEN—'

Hippolyte flushed hotly. He had thought at first that the prince was 'humbugging' him; but on looking at his face he saw that he was absolutely serious, and had no thought of any deception. Hippolyte beamed with gratification.

'And yet I must die,' he said, and almost added: 'a man like me @

'And imagine how that Gania annoys me! He has de- veloped the idea —or pretends to believe—that in all probability three or four others who heard my confession will die before I do. There's an idea for you—and all this by way of CONSOLING me! Ha! ha! ha! In the first place they haven't died yet; and in the second, if they DID die— all of them—what would be the satisfaction to me in that? He judges me by himself. But he goes further, he actually pitches into me because, as he declares, 'any decent fellow' would die quietly, and that 'all this' is mere egotism on my part. He doesn't see what refinement of egotism it is on his own part—and at the same time, what ox-like coarseness! Have you ever read of the death of one Stepan Gleboff, in the eighteenth century? I read of it yesterday by chance.'

'Who was he?'

He was impaled on a stake in the time of Peter.'

'I know, I know! He lay there fifteen hours in the hard frost, and died with the most extraordinary fortitude—I know—what of him?'

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'Only that God gives that sort of dying to some, and not to others. Perhaps you think, though, that I could not die like Gleboff?'

'Not at all!' said the prince, blushing. 'I was only going to say that you—not that you could not be like Gleboff—but that you would have been more like @

'I guess what you mean—I should be an Osterman, not a Gleboff— eh? Is that what you meant?'

'What Osterman?' asked the prince in some surprise.

'Why, Osterman—the diplomatist. Peter's Osterman,' muttered Hippolyte, confused. There was a moment's pause of mutual confusion.

Oh, no, no!' said the prince at last, 'that was not what I was going to say—oh no! I don't think you would ever have been like Osterman.'

Hippolyte frowned gloomily.

'I'll tell you why I draw the conclusion,' explained the

prince, evidently desirous of clearing up the matter a little. 'Because, though I often think over the men of those times, I cannot for the life of me imagine them to be like ourselves. It really appears to me that they were of another race alto- gether than ourselves of today. At that time people seemed to stick so to one idea; now, they are more nervous, more sensitive, more enlightened—people of two or three ideas at once—as it were. The man of today is a broader man, so to speak—and I declare I believe that is what prevents him from being so self-contained and independent a being as his brother of those earlier days. Of course my remark was

only made under this impression, and not in the least @ Free eBooks at Planet

'I quite understand. You are trying to comfort me for the naiveness with which you disagreed with me—eh? Ha! ha! ha! You are a regular child, prince! However, I cannot help seeing that you always treat me like—like a fragile china cup. Never mind, never mind, I'm not a bit angry! At all events we have had a very funny talk. Do you know, all things considered, I should like to be something better than Osterman! I wouldn't take the trouble to rise from the dead to be an Osterman. However, I see I must make arrange- ments to die soon, or I myself—. Well—leave me now! Au revoir. Look here—before you go, just give me your opinion: how do you think I ought to die, now? I mean—the best, the most virtuous way? Tell me!'

'You should pass us by and forgive us our happiness,' said the prince in a low voice.

'Ha! ha! ha! I thought so. I thought I should hear some- thing like that. Well, you are—you really are—oh dear me! Eloquence, eloquence! Good-bye!'

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VI

As to the evening party at the Epanchins' at which Prin- cess Bielokonski was to be present, Varia had reported with accuracy; though she had perhaps expressed herself

too strongly.

The thing was decided in a hurry and with a certain

amount of quite unnecessary excitement, doubtless because 'nothing could be done in this house like anywhere else.'

The impatience of Lizabetha Prokofievna 'to get things settled' explained a good deal, as well as the anxiety of both parents for the happiness of their beloved daughter. Besides, Princess Bielokonski was going away soon, and they hoped that she would take an interest in the prince. They were anx- ious that he should enter society under the auspices of this lady, whose patronage was the best of recommendations for any young man.

Even if there seems something strange about the match, the general and his wife said to each other, the 'world' will accept Aglaya's fiance without any question if he is under the patronage of the princess. In any case, the prince would have to be 'shown' sooner or later; that is, introduced into society, of which he had, so far, not the least idea. Moreover, it was only a question of a small gathering of a few intimate friends. Besides Princess Bielokonski, only one other lady was expected, the wife of a high dignitary. Evgenie Pavlov-

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itch, who was to escort the princess, was the only young man.

Muishkin was told of the princess's visit three days be- forehand, but nothing was said to him about the party until the night before it was to take place.

He could not help observing the excited and agitated condition of all members of the family, and from certain hints dropped in conversation he gathered that they were all anxious as to the impression he should make upon the princess. But the Epanchins, one and all, believed that Muishkin, in his simplicity of mind, was quite incapable of realizing that they could be feeling any anxiety on his ac- count, and for this reason they all looked at him with dread and uneasiness.

In point of fact, he did attach marvellously little im- portance to the approaching event. He was occupied with altogether different thoughts. Aglaya was growing hour- ly more capricious and gloomy, and this distressed him. When they told him that Evgenie Pavlovitch was expected, he evinced great delight, and said that he had long wished to see him—and somehow these words did not please any- one.

Aglaya left the room in a fit of irritation, and it was not until late in the evening, past eleven, when the prince was taking his departure, that she said a word or two to him, privately, as she accompanied him as far as the front door.

'I should like you,' she said, 'not to come here tomorrow until evening, when the guests are all assembled. You know there are to be guests, don't you?'

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She spoke impatiently and with severity; this was the first allusion she had made to the party of tomorrow.

She hated the idea of it, everyone saw that; and she would probably have liked to quarrel about it with her parents, but pride and modesty prevented her from broaching the sub- ject.

The prince jumped to the conclusion that Aglaya, too, was nervous about him, and the impression he would make, and that she did not like to admit her anxiety; and this thought alarmed him.

'Yes, I am invited,' he replied.

She was evidently in difficulties as to how best to go on.

'May I speak of something serious to you, for once in my life?' she asked, angrily. She was irritated at she knew not what, and could not restrain her wrath.

'Of course you may; I am very glad to listen,' replied Muishkin.

Aglaya was silent a moment and then began again with evident dislike of her subject:

'I do not wish to quarrel with them about this; in some things they won't be reasonable. I always did feel a loathing for the laws which seem to guide mamma's conduct at times. I don't speak of father, for he cannot be expected to be any- thing but what he is. Mother is a noble-minded woman, I know; you try to suggest anything mean to her, and you'll see! But she is such a slave to these miserable creatures! I don't mean old Bielokonski alone. She is a contemptible old thing, but she is able to twist people round her little finger, and I admire that in her, at all events! How mean it all is,

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and how foolish! We were always middle-class, thorough- ly middle-class, people. Why should we attempt to climb into the giddy heights of the fashionable world? My sisters are all for it. It's Prince S. they have to thank for poisoning their minds. Why are you so glad that Evgenie Pavlovitch is coming?'

'Listen to me, Aglaya,' said the prince, 'I do believe you are nervous lest I shall make a fool of myself tomorrow at your party?'

'Nervous about you?' Aglaya blushed. 'Why should I be nervous about you? What would it matter to me if you were to make ever such a fool of yourself? How can you say such a thing? What do you mean by 'making a fool of yourself'? What a vulgar expression! I suppose you intend to talk in that sort of way tomorrow evening? Look up a few more such expressions in your dictionary; do, you'll make a grand effect! I'm sorry that you seem to be able to come into a room as gracefully as you do; where did you learn the art? Do you think you can drink a cup of tea decently, when you know everybody is looking at you, on purpose to see how you do it?'

'Yes, I think I can.'

'Can you? I'm sorry for it then, for I should have had a good laugh at you otherwise. Do break SOMETHING at least, in the drawing-room! Upset the Chinese vase, won't you? It's a valuable one; DO break it. Mamma values it, and she'll go out of her mind—it was a present. She'll cry before everyone, you'll see! Wave your hand about, you know, as you always do, and just smash it. Sit down near it on pur-

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pose.'

'On the contrary, I shall sit as far from it as I can. Thanks

for the hint.'

'Ha, ha! Then you are afraid you WILL wave your arms

about! I wouldn't mind betting that you'll talk about some lofty subject, something serious and learned. How delight- ful, how tactful that will be!'

'I should think it would be very foolish indeed, unless it happened to come in appropriately.'

'Look here, once for all,' cried Aglaya, boiling over, 'if I hear you talking about capital punishment, or the econom- ical condition of Russia, or about Beauty redeeming the world, or anything of that sort, I'll—well, of course I shall laugh and seem very pleased, but I warn you beforehand, don't look me in the face again! I'm serious now, mind, this time I AM REALLY serious.' She certainly did say this very seriously, so much so, that she looked quite different from what she usually was, and the prince could not help notic- ing the fact. She did not seem to be joking in the slightest degree.

'Well, you've put me into such a fright that I shall certain- ly make a fool of myself, and very likely break something too. I wasn't a bit alarmed before, but now I'm as nervous as can be.'

'Then don't speak at all. Sit still and don't talk.'

'Oh, I can't do that, you know! I shall say something fool- ish out of pure 'funk,' and break something for the same excellent reason; I know I shall. Perhaps I shall slip and fall on the slippery floor; I've done that before now, you know.

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I shall dream of it all night now. Why did you say anything about it?'

Aglaya looked blackly at him.

'Do you know what, I had better not come at all tomor- row! I'll plead sick-list and stay away,' said the prince, with decision.

Aglaya stamped her foot, and grew quite pale with an- ger.

Oh, my goodness! Just listen to that! 'Better not come,' when the party is on purpose for him! Good Lord! What a delightful thing it is to have to do with such a—such a stu- pid as you are!'

'Well, I'll come, I'll come,' interrupted the prince, hastily, 'and I'll give you my word of honour that I will sit the whole

evening and not say a word.'

'I believe that's the best thing you can do. You said you'd

'plead sick-list' just now; where in the world do you get hold of such expressions? Why do you talk to me like this? Are you trying to irritate me, or what?'

'Forgive me, it's a schoolboy expression. I won't do it again. I know quite well, I see it, that you are anxious on my account (now, don't be angry), and it makes me very happy to see it. You wouldn't believe how frightened I am of mis- behaving somehow, and how glad I am of your instructions. But all this panic is simply nonsense, you know, Aglaya! I give you my word it is; I am so pleased that you are such a child, such a dear good child. How CHARMING you can be if you like, Aglaya.'

Aglaya wanted to be angry, of course, but suddenly some The Idiot

quite unexpected feeling seized upon her heart, all in a mo- ment.

'And you won't reproach me for all these rude words of mine—some day—afterwards?' she asked, of a sudden.

'What an idea! Of course not. And what are you blushing for again? And there comes that frown once more! You've taken to looking too gloomy sometimes, Aglaya, much more than you used to. I know why it is.'

'Be quiet, do be quiet!'

'No, no, I had much better speak out. I have long wished to say it, and HAVE said it, but that's not enough, for you didn't believe me. Between us two there stands a being who—'

'Be quiet, be quiet, be quiet, be quiet!' Aglaya struck in, suddenly, seizing his hand in hers, and gazing at him al- most in terror.

At this moment she was called by someone. She broke loose from him with an air of relief and ran away.

The prince was in a fever all night. It was strange, but he had suffered from fever for several nights in succession. On this particular night, while in semi-delirium, he had an idea: what if on the morrow he were to have a fit before everybody? The thought seemed to freeze his blood with- in him. All night he fancied himself in some extraordinary society of strange persons. The worst of it was that he was talking nonsense; he knew that he ought not to speak at all, and yet he talked the whole time; he seemed to be trying to persuade them all to something. Evgenie and Hippolyte were among the guests, and appeared to be great friends.

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He awoke towards nine o'clock with a headache, full of confused ideas and strange impressions. For some reason or other he felt most anxious to see Rogojin, to see and talk to him, but what he wished to say he could not tell. Next, he determined to go and see Hippolyte. His mind was in a con- fused state, so much so that the incidents of the morning seemed to be imperfectly realized, though acutely felt.

One of these incidents was a visit from Lebedeff. Lebe- deff came rather early—before ten—but he was tipsy already. Though the prince was not in an observant condition, yet

he could not avoid seeing that for at least three days—ever since General Ivolgin had left the house Lebedeff had been behaving very badly. He looked untidy and dirty at all times of the day, and it was said that he had begun to rage about in his own house, and that his temper was very bad. As soon as he arrived this morning, he began to hold forth, beating his breast and apparently blaming himself for something.

'I've—I've had a reward for my meanness—I've had a slap in the face,' he concluded, tragically.

'A slap in the face? From whom? And so early in the morning?'

'Early?' said Lebedeff, sarcastically. 'Time counts for nothing, even in physical chastisement; but my slap in the face was not physical, it was moral.'

He suddenly took a seat, very unceremoniously, and be- gan his story. It was very disconnected; the prince frowned, and wished he could get away; but suddenly a few words struck him. He sat stiff with wonder—Lebedeff said some extraordinary things.

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In the first place he began about some letter; the name of Aglaya Ivanovna came in. Then suddenly he broke off and began to accuse the prince of something; he was appar- ently offended with him. At first he declared that the prince had trusted him with his confidences as to 'a certain person' (Nastasia Philipovna), but that of late his friendship had been thrust back into his bosom, and his innocent ques- tion as to 'approaching family changes' had been curtly put aside, which Lebedeff declared, with tipsy tears, he could not bear; especially as he knew so much already both from Rogojin and Nastasia Philipovna and her friend, and from

Varvara Ardalionovna, and even from Aglaya Ivanovna, through his daughter Vera. 'And who told Lizabetha Pro- kofievna something in secret, by letter? Who told her all about the movements of a certain person called Nastasia Philipovna? Who was the anonymous person, eh? Tell me!'

'Surely not you?' cried the prince.

'Just so,' said Lebedeff, with dignity; 'and only this very morning I have sent up a letter to the noble lady, stating that I have a matter of great importance to communicate. She received the letter; I know she got it; and she received ME, too.'

'Have you just seen Lizabetha Prokofievna?' asked the prince, scarcely believing his ears.

'Yes, I saw her, and got the said slap in the face as men- tioned. She chucked the letter back to me unopened, and kicked me out of the house, morally, not physically, al- though not far off it.'

'What letter do you mean she returned unopened?'

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'What! didn't I tell you? Ha, ha, ha! I thought I had. Why, I received a letter, you know, to be handed over—'From whom? To whom?'

But it was difficult, if not impossible, to extract anything from Lebedeff. All the prince could gather was, that the let- ter had been received very early, and had a request written on the outside that it might be sent on to the address given.

'Just as before, sir, just as before! To a certain person, and from a certain hand. The individual's name who wrote the letter is to be represented by the letter A.—'

'What? Impossible! To Nastasia Philipovna? Nonsense!' cried the prince.

'It was, I assure you, and if not to her then to Rogojin, which is the same thing. Mr. Hippolyte has had letters, too, and all from the individual whose name begins with an A.,' smirked Lebedeff, with a hideous grin.

As he kept jumping from subject to subject, and for- getting what he had begun to talk about, the prince said nothing, but waited, to give him time.

It was all very vague. Who had taken the letters, if letters there were? Probably Vera—and how could Lebedeff have got them? In all probability, he had managed to steal the present letter from Vera, and had himself gone over to Liza- betha Prokofievna with some idea in his head. So the prince concluded at last.

'You are mad!' he cried, indignantly.

'Not quite, esteemed prince,' replied Lebedeff, with some acerbity. 'I confess I thought of doing you the ser- vice of handing the letter over to yourself, but I decided

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that it would pay me better to deliver it up to the noble lady aforesaid, as I had informed her of everything hitherto by anonymous letters; so when I sent her up a note from my- self, with the letter, you know, in order to fix a meeting for eight o'clock this morning, I signed it 'your secret corre- spondent.' They let me in at once— very quickly—by the back door, and the noble lady received me.'

'Well? Go on.'

'Oh, well, when I saw her she almost punched my head, as I say; in fact so nearly that one might almost say she did punch my head. She threw the letter in my face; she seemed to reflect first, as if she would have liked to keep it, but thought better of it and threw it in my face instead. 'If any- body can have been such a fool as to trust a man like you to deliver the letter,' says she,' take it and deliver it! 'Hey! she was grandly indignant. A fierce, fiery lady that, sir!'

'Where's the letter now?'

'Oh, I've still got it, here!'

And he handed the prince the very letter from Aglaya to

Gania, which the latter showed with so much triumph to his Sister at a later hour.

'This letter cannot be allowed to remain in your hands.'

'It's for you—for you! I've brought it you on purpose!' cried Lebedeff, excitedly. 'Why, I'm yours again now, heart and hand, your slave; there was but a momentary pause in the flow of my love and esteem for you. Mea culpa, mea cul- pa! as the Pope of Rome says.

'This letter should be sent on at once,' said the prince, dis- turbed. 'I'll hand it over myself.'

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'Wouldn't it be better, esteemed prince, wouldn't it be better— to—don't you know—'

Lebedeff made a strange and very expressive grimace; he twisted about in his chair, and did something, apparently symbolical, with his hands.

'What do you mean?' said the prince.

'Why, open it, for the time being, don't you know?' he said, most confidentially and mysteriously.

The prince jumped up so furiously that Lebedeff ran towards the door; having gained which strategic position, however, he stopped and looked back to see if he might hope for pardon.

'Oh, Lebedeff, Lebedeff! Can a man really sink to such depths of meanness?' said the prince, sadly.

Lebedeff's face brightened.

'Oh, I'm a mean wretch—a mean wretch!' he said, ap-

proaching the prince once more, and beating his breast, with tears in his eyes.

'It's abominable dishonesty, you know!'

'Dishonesty—it is, it is! That's the very word!'

'What in the world induces you to act so? You are noth-

ing but a spy. Why did you write anonymously to worry so noble and generous a lady? Why should not Aglaya Iva- novna write a note to whomever she pleases? What did you mean to complain of today? What did you expect to get by it? What made you go at all?'

'Pure amiable curiosity,—I assure you—desire to do a service. That's all. Now I'm entirely yours again, your slave; hang me if you like!'

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'Did you go before Lizabetha Prokofievna in your present condition?' inquired the prince.

'No—oh no, fresher—more the correct card. I only be- came this like after the humiliation I suffered there,

'Well—that'll do; now leave me.'

This injunction had to be repeated several times before the man could be persuaded to move. Even then he turned back at the door, came as far as the middle of the room, and there went through his mysterious motions designed to convey the suggestion that the prince should open the let- ter. He did not dare put his suggestion into words again.

After this performance, he smiled sweetly and left the room on tiptoe.

All this had been very painful to listen to. One fact stood out certain and clear, and that was that poor Aglaya must be in a state of great distress and indecision and mental tor- ment ("from jealousy,' the prince whispered to himself). Undoubtedly in this inexperienced, but hot and proud little head, there were all sorts of plans forming, wild and im- possible plans, maybe; and the idea of this so frightened the prince that he could not make up his mind what to do. Something must be done, that was clear.

He looked at the address on the letter once more. Oh, he was not in the least degree alarmed about Aglaya writing such a letter; he could trust her. What he did not like about it was that he could not trust Gania.

However, he made up his mind that he would himself take the note and deliver it. Indeed, he went so far as to leave the house and walk up the road, but changed his mind

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when he had nearly reached Ptitsin's door. However, he there luckily met Colia, and commissioned him to deliv- er the letter to his brother as if direct from Aglaya. Colia asked no questions but simply delivered it, and Gania con- sequently had no suspicion that it had passed through so many hands.

Arrived home again, the prince sent for Vera Lebedeff and told her as much as was necessary, in order to relieve her mind, for she had been in a dreadful state of anxiety since she had missed the letter. She heard with horror that her father had taken it. Muishkin learned from her that she had on several occasions performed secret missions both for Aglaya and for Rogojin, without, however, having had the slightest idea that in so doing she might injure the prince in any way.

The latter, with one thing and another, was now so dis- turbed and confused, that when, a couple of hours or so later, a message came from Colia that the general was ill, he could hardly take the news in.

However, when he did master the fact, it acted upon him as a tonic by completely distracting his attention. He went at once to Nina Alexandrovna's, whither the general had been carried, and stayed there until the evening. He could do no good, but there are people whom to have near one is a blessing at such times. Colia was in an almost hysterical state; he cried continuously, but was running about all day, all the same; fetching doctors, of whom he collected three; going to the chemist's, and so on.

The general was brought round to some extent, but the The Idiot

doctors declared that he could not be said to be out of dan- ger. Varia and Nina Alexandrovna never left the sick man's bedside; Gania was excited and distressed, but would not go upstairs, and seemed afraid to look at the patient. He wrung his hands when the prince spoke to him, and said that 'such a misfortune at such a moment' was terrible.

The prince thought he knew what Gania meant by 'such a moment.'

Hippolyte was not in the house. Lebedeff turned up late in the afternoon; he had been asleep ever since his interview with the prince in the morning. He was quite sober now, and cried with real sincerity over the sick general—mourn- ing for him as though he were his own brother. He blamed himself aloud, but did not explain why. He repeated over and over again to Nina Alexandrovna that he alone was to blame—no one else—but that he had acted out of 'pure ami- able curiosity,' and that 'the deceased,' as he insisted upon calling the still living general, had been the greatest of ge- niuses.

He laid much stress on the genius of the sufferer, as if this idea must be one of immense solace in the present crisis.

Nina Alexandrovna—seeing his sincerity of feeling— said at last, and without the faintest suspicion of reproach in her voice: 'Come, come—don't cry! God will forgive you!'

Lebedeff was so impressed by these words, and the tone in which they were spoken, that he could not leave Nina Al- exandrovna all the evening—in fact, for several days. Till the general's death, indeed, he spent almost all his time at his side.

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Twice during the day a messenger came to Nina Alexan- drovna from the Epanchins to inquire after the invalid.

When—late in the evening—the prince made his appear- ance in Lizabetha Prokofievna's drawing-room, he found it full of guests. Mrs. Epanchin questioned him very ful- ly about the general as soon as he appeared; and when old Princess Bielokonski wished to know 'who this general was, and who was Nina Alexandrovna,' she proceeded to explain in a manner which pleased the prince very much.

He himself, when relating the circumstances of the gen- eral's illness to Lizabetha Prokofievna, 'spoke beautifully,' as Aglaya's sisters declared afterwards—'modestly, quietly, without gestures or too many words, and with great dignity.' He had entered the room with propriety and grace, and he was perfectly dressed; he not only did not 'fall down on the slippery floor,' as he had expressed it, but evidently made a very favourable impression upon the assembled guests.

As for his own impression on entering the room and tak- ing his seat, he instantly remarked that the company was not in the least such as Aglaya's words had led him to fear, and as he had dreamed of—in nightmare form—all night.

This was the first time in his life that he had seen a little corner of what was generally known by the terrible name of 'society.' He had long thirsted, for reasons of his own, to penetrate the mysteries of the magic circle, and, therefore, this assemblage was of the greatest possible interest to him.

His first impression was one of fascination. Somehow or other he felt that all these people must have been born on purpose to be together! It seemed to him that the Epanchins

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were not having a party at all; that these people must have been here always, and that he himself was one of them—re- turned among them after a long absence, but one of them, naturally and indisputably.

It never struck him that all this refined simplicity and nobility and wit and personal dignity might possibly be no more than an exquisite artistic polish. The majority of the guests—who were somewhat empty-headed, after all, in spite of their aristocratic bearing—never guessed, in their self-satisfied composure, that much of their superiority was mere veneer, which indeed they had adopted unconsciously and by inheritance.

The prince would never so much as suspect such a thing in the delight of his first impression.

He saw, for instance, that one important dignitary, old enough to be his grandfather, broke off his own conversa- tion in order to listen to HIM—a young and inexperienced man; and not only listened, but seemed to attach value to his opinion, and was kind and amiable, and yet they were strangers and had never seen each other before. Perhaps what most appealed to the prince's impressionability was the refinement of the old man's courtesy towards him. Per- haps the soil of his susceptible nature was really predisposed to receive a pleasant impression.

Meanwhile all these people-though friends of the family and of each other to a certain extent—were very far from being such intimate friends of the family and of each other as the prince concluded. There were some present who nev- er would think of considering the Epanchins their equals.

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There were even some who hated one another cordially. For instance, old Princess Bielokonski had all her life despised the wife of the 'dignitary,' while the latter was very far from loving Lizabetha Prokofievna. The dignitary himself had been General Epanchin's protector from his youth up; and the general considered him so majestic a personage that he would have felt a hearty contempt for himself if he had even for one moment allowed himself to pose as the great man's equal, or to think of him—in his fear and reverence-as any- thing less than an Olympic God! There were others present who had not met for years, and who had no feeling what- ever for each other, unless it were dislike; and yet they met tonight as though they had seen each other but yesterday in some friendly and intimate assembly of kindred spirits.

It was not a large party, however. Besides Princess Bielo- konski and the old dignitary (who was really a great man) and his wife, there was an old military general—a count or baron with a German name, a man reputed to possess great knowledge and administrative ability. He was one of those Olympian administrators who know everything ex- cept Russia, pronounce a word of extraordinary wisdom, admired by all, about once in five years, and, after being an eternity in the service, generally die full of honour and riches, though they have never done anything great, and have even been hostile to all greatness. This general was Ivan Fedorovitch's immediate superior in the service; and it pleased the latter to look upon him also as a patron. On the other hand, the great man did not at all consider himself Epanchin's patron. He was always very cool to him, while

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taking advantage of his ready services, and would instantly have put another in his place if there had been the slightest reason for the change.

Another guest was an elderly, important-looking gen- tleman, a distant relative of Lizabetha Prokofievna's. This gentleman was rich, held a good position, was a great talk- er, and had the reputation of being 'one of the dissatisfied,' though not belonging to the dangerous sections of that class. He had the manners, to some extent, of the English aristoc- racy, and some of their tastes (especially in the matter of under-done roast beef, harness, men-servants, etc.). He was a great friend of the dignitary's, and Lizabetha Prokofievna, for some reason or other, had got hold of the idea that this worthy intended at no distant date to offer the advantages of his hand and heart to Alexandra.

Besides the elevated and more solid individuals enu- merated, there were present a few younger though not less elegant guests. Besides Prince S. and Evgenie Pavlovitch, we must name the eminent and fascinating Prince N.—once the vanquisher of female hearts all over Europe. This gen- tleman was no longer in the first bloom of youth—he was forty-five, but still very handsome. He was well off, and lived, as a rule, abroad, and was noted as a good teller of stories. Then came a few guests belonging to a lower stra- tum of society—people who, like the Epanchins themselves, moved only occasionally in this exalted sphere. The Ep- anchins liked to draft among their more elevated guests a few picked representatives of this lower stratum, and Liz- abetha Prokofievna received much praise for this practice,

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which proved, her friends said, that she was a woman of tact. The Epanchins prided themselves upon the good opinion

people held of them.

One of the representatives of the middle-class present

today was a colonel of engineers, a very serious man and a great friend of Prince S., who had introduced him to the Ep- anchins. He was extremely silent in society, and displayed on the forefinger of his right hand a large ring, probably be- stowed upon him for services of some sort. There was also a poet, German by name, but a Russian poet; very present- able, and even handsome-the sort of man one could bring into society with impunity. This gentleman belonged to a German family of decidedly bourgeois origin, but he had a knack of acquiring the patronage of 'big-wigs,' and of retaining their favour. He had translated some great Ger- man poem into Russian verse, and claimed to have been a friend of a famous Russian poet, since dead. (It is strange how great a multitude of literary people there are who have had the advantages of friendship with some great man of their own profession who is, unfortunately, dead.) The dig- nitary's wife had introduced this worthy to the Epanchins.

This lady posed as the patroness of literary people, and she certainly had succeeded in obtaining pensions for a few of them, thanks to her influence with those in authority on such matters. She was a lady of weight in her own way. Her age was about forty-five, so that she was a very young wife for such an elderly husband as the dignitary. She had been a beauty in her day and still loved, as many ladies of forty-five do love, to dress a little too smartly. Her intellect was noth-

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ing to boast of, and her literary knowledge very doubtful. Literary patronage was, however, with her as much a mania as was the love of gorgeous clothes. Many books and trans- lations were dedicated to her by her proteges, and a few of these talented individuals had published some of their own letters to her, upon very weighty subjects.

This, then, was the society that the prince accepted at once as true coin, as pure gold without alloy.

It so happened, however, that on this particular evening all these good people were in excellent humour and highly pleased with themselves. Every one of them felt that they were doing the Epanchins the greatest possible honour by their presence. But alas! the prince never suspected any such subtleties! For instance, he had no suspicion of the fact that the Epanchins, having in their mind so important a step as the marriage of their daughter, would never think of presuming to take it without having previously 'shown off' the proposed husband to the dignitary—the recognized patron of the family. The latter, too, though he would prob- ably have received news of a great disaster to the Epanchin family with perfect composure, would nevertheless have considered it a personal offence if they had dared to marry their daughter without his advice, or we might almost say, his leave.

The amiable and undoubtedly witty Prince N. could not but feel that he was as a sun, risen for one night only to shine upon the Epanchin drawing-room. He accounted them immeasurably his inferiors, and it was this feeling which caused his special amiability and delightful ease and grace

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towards them. He knew very well that he must tell some sto- ry this evening for the edification of the company, and led up to it with the inspiration of anticipatory triumph.

The prince, when he heard the story afterwards, felt that he had never yet come across so wonderful a humorist, or such remarkable brilliancy as was shown by this man; and yet if he had only known it, this story was the oldest, stalest, and most worn-out yarn, and every drawing-room in town was sick to death of it. It was only in the innocent Epanchin household that it passed for a new and brilliant tale—as a sudden and striking reminiscence of a splendid and talent- ed man.

Even the German poet, though as amiable as possible, felt that he was doing the house the greatest of honours by his presence in it.

But the prince only looked at the bright side; he did not turn the coat and see the shabby lining.

Aglaya had not foreseen that particular calamity. She herself looked wonderfully beautiful this evening. All three sisters were dressed very tastefully, and their hair was done with special care.

Aglaya sat next to Evgenie Pavlovitch, and laughed and talked to him with an unusual display of friendliness. Evgenie himself behaved rather more sedately than usual, probably out of respect to the dignitary. Evgenie had been known in society for a long while. He had appeared at the Epanchins' today with crape on his hat, and Princess Bielo- konski had commended this action on his part. Not every society man would have worn crape for 'such an uncle.'

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Lizabetha Prokofievna had liked it also, but was too pre- occupied to take much notice. The prince remarked that Aglaya looked attentively at him two or three times, and

seemed to be satisfied with his behaviour.

Little by little he became very happy indeed. All his late

anxieties and apprehensions (after his conversation with Lebedeff) now appeared like so many bad dreams—impos- sible, and even laughable.

He did not speak much, only answering such questions as were put to him, and gradually settled down into un- broken silence, listening to what went on, and steeped in perfect satisfaction and contentment.

Little by little a sort of inspiration, however, began to stir within him, ready to spring into life at the right moment. When he did begin to speak, it was accidentally, in response to a question, and apparently without any special object.

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VII

WHILE he feasted his eyes upon Aglaya, as she talked merrily with Evgenie and Prince N., suddenly the old anglomaniac, who was talking to the dignitary in anoth-

er corner of the room, apparently telling him a story about something or other—suddenly this gentleman pronounced the name of 'Nicolai Andreevitch Pavlicheff' aloud. The prince quickly turned towards him, and listened.

The conversation had been on the subject of land, and the present disorders, and there must have been something amusing said, for the old man had begun to laugh at his companion's heated expressions.

The latter was describing in eloquent words how, in consequence of recent legislation, he was obliged to sell a beautiful estate in the N. province, not because he wanted ready money—in fact, he was obliged to sell it at half its value. 'To avoid another lawsuit about the Pavlicheff estate, I ran away,' he said. 'With a few more inheritances of that kind I should soon be ruined!'

At this point General Epanchin, noticing how interested Muishkin had become in the conversation, said to him, in a low tone:

'That gentleman—Ivan Petrovitch—is a relation of your late friend, Mr. Pavlicheff. You wanted to find some of his relations, did you not?'

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The general, who had been talking to his chief up to this moment, had observed the prince's solitude and silence, and was anxious to draw him into the conversation, and so introduce him again to the notice of some of the important personages.

'Lef Nicolaievitch was a ward of Nicolai Andreevitch Pavlicheff, after the death of his own parents,' he remarked, meeting Ivan Petrovitch's eye.

'Very happy to meet him, I'm sure,' remarked the latter. 'I remember Lef Nicolaievitch well. When General Epanchin introduced us just now, I recognized you at once, prince.

You are very little changed, though I saw you last as a child of some ten or eleven years old. There was something in your features, I suppose, that—'

'You saw me as a child!' exclaimed the prince, with sur- prise.

'Oh! yes, long ago,' continued Ivan Petrovitch, 'while you were living with my cousin at Zlatoverhoff. You don't re- member me? No, I dare say you don't; you had some malady at the time, I remember. It was so serious that I was sur- prised—'

'No; I remember nothing!' said the prince. A few more words of explanation followed, words which were spoken without the smallest excitement by his companion, but which evoked the greatest agitation in the prince; and it was discovered that two old ladies to whose care the prince had been left by Pavlicheff, and who lived at Zlatoverhoff, were also relations of Ivan Petrovitch.

The latter had no idea and could give no information as Free eBooks at Planet

to why Pavlicheff had taken so great an interest in the little prince, his ward.

'In point of fact I don't think I thought much about it,' said the old fellow. He seemed to have a wonderfully good memory, however, for he told the prince all about the two old ladies, Pavlicheff's cousins, who had taken care of him, and whom, he declared, he had taken to task for being too severe with the prince as a small sickly boy—the elder sis- ter, at least; the younger had been kind, he recollected. They both now lived in another province, on a small estate left to them by Pavlicheff. The prince listened to all this with eyes sparkling with emotion and delight.

He declared with unusual warmth that he would nev- er forgive himself for having travelled about in the central provinces during these last six months without having hunted up his two old friends.

He declared, further, that he had intended to go every day, but had always been prevented by circumstances; but that now he would promise himself the pleasure—however far it was, he would find them out. And so Ivan Petrovitch REALLY knew Natalia Nikitishna!what a saintly nature was hers!—and Martha Nikitishna! Ivan Petrovitch must excuse him, but really he was not quite fair on dear old Martha. She was severe, perhaps; but then what else could she be with such a little idiot as he was then? (Ha, ha.) He really was an idiot then, Ivan Petrovitch must know, though he might not believe it. (Ha, ha.) So he had really seen him there! Good heavens! And was he really and truly and actu- ally a cousin of Pavlicheff's?

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'I assure you of it,' laughed Ivan Petrovitch, gazing amusedly at the prince.

'Oh! I didn't say it because I DOUBT the fact, you know. (Ha, ha.) How could I doubt such a thing? (Ha, ha, ha.) I made the remark because—because Nicolai Andreevitch Pavlicheff was such a splendid man, don't you see! Such a high-souled man, he really was, I assure you.'

The prince did not exactly pant for breath, but he 'seemed almost to CHOKE out of pure simplicity and goodness of heart,' as Adelaida expressed it, on talking the party over with her fiance, the Prince S., next morning.

'But, my goodness me,' laughed Ivan Petrovitch, 'why can't I be cousin to even a splendid man?'

'Oh, dear!' cried the prince, confused, trying to hurry his words out, and growing more and more eager every mo- ment: 'I've gone and said another stupid thing. I don't know what to say. I—I didn't mean that, you know—I—I—he re- ally was such a splendid man, wasn't he?'

The prince trembled all over. Why was he so agitated? Why had he flown into such transports of delight without any apparent reason? He had far outshot the measure of joy and emotion consistent with the occasion. Why this was it

would be difficult to say.

He seemed to feel warmly and deeply grateful to some-

one for something or other—perhaps to Ivan Petrovitch; but likely enough to all the guests, individually, and collec- tively. He was much too happy.

Ivan Petrovitch began to stare at him with some sur- prise; the dignitary, too, looked at him with considerable

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attention; Princess Bielokonski glared at him angrily, and compressed her lips. Prince N., Evgenie, Prince S., and the girls, all broke off their own conversations and listened. Aglaya seemed a little startled; as for Lizabetha Prokofievna, her heart sank within her.

This was odd of Lizabetha Prokofievna and her daugh- ters. They had themselves decided that it would be better if the prince did not talk all the evening. Yet seeing him sitting silent and alone, but perfectly happy, they had been on the point of exerting themselves to draw him into one of the groups of talkers around the room. Now that he was in the midst of a talk they became more than ever anxious and perturbed.

'That he was a splendid man is perfectly true; you are quite right,' repeated Ivan Petrovitch, but seriously this time. 'He was a fine and a worthy fellow—worthy, one may say, of the highest respect,' he added, more and more seri- ously at each pause; ' and it is agreeable to see, on your part, such—'

'Wasn't it this same Pavlicheff about whom there was a strange story in connection with some abbot? I don't re- member who the abbot was, but I remember at one time everybody was talking about it,' remarked the old digni- tary.

'Yes—Abbot Gurot, a Jesuit,' said Ivan Petrovitch. 'Yes, that's the sort of thing our best men are apt to do. A man of rank, too, and rich—a man who, if he had continued to serve, might have done anything; and then to throw up the service and everything else in order to go over to Roman

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Catholicism and turn Jesuit— openly, too—almost trium- phantly. By Jove! it was positively a mercy that he died when he did—it was indeed—everyone said so at the time.'

The prince was beside himself.

'Pavlicheff?—Pavlicheff turned Roman Catholic? Impos- sible!' he cried, in horror.

'H'm! impossible is rather a strong word,' said Ivan Petro- vitch. 'You must allow, my dear prince... However, of course you value the memory of the deceased so very highly; and he certainly was the kindest of men; to which fact, by the way, I ascribe, more than to anything else, the success of the abbot in influencing his religious convictions. But you may ask me, if you please, how much trouble and worry I, personally, had over that business, and especially with this same Gurot! Would you believe it,' he continued, address- ing the dignitary, 'they actually tried to put in a claim under the deceased's will, and I had to resort to the very strongest measures in order to bring them to their senses? I assure you they knew their cue, did these gentlemen— wonder- ful! Thank goodness all this was in Moscow, and I got the Court, you know, to help me, and we soon brought them to their senses.

'You wouldn't believe how you have pained and aston- ished me,' cried the prince.

'Very sorry; but in point of fact, you know, it was all non- sense and would have ended in smoke, as usual—I'm sure of that. Last year,'—he turned to the old man again,—'Count- ess K. joined some Roman Convent abroad. Our people never seem to be able to offer any resistance so soon as

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they get into the hands of these— intriguers—especially abroad.'

'That is all thanks to our lassitude, I think,' replied the old man, with authority. 'And then their way of preaching; they have a skilful manner of doing it! And they know how to startle one, too. I got quite a fright myself in '32, in Vi- enna, I assure you; but I didn't cave in to them, I ran away instead, ha, ha!'

'Come, come, I've always heard that you ran away with the beautiful Countess Levitsky that time—throwing up everything in order to do it—and not from the Jesuits at all,' said Princess Bielokonski, suddenly.

'Well, yes—but we call it from the Jesuits, you know; it comes to the same thing,' laughed the old fellow, delighted with the pleasant recollection.

'You seem to be very religious,' he continued, kindly, ad- dressing the prince,' which is a thing one meets so seldom nowadays among young people.'

The prince was listening open-mouthed, and still in a condition of excited agitation. The old man was evidently interested in him, and anxious to study him more closely.

'Pavlicheff was a man of bright intellect and a good Chris- tian, a sincere Christian,' said the prince, suddenly. 'How could he possibly embrace a faith which is unchristian? Ro- man Catholicism is, so to speak, simply the same thing as unchristianity,' he added with flashing eyes, which seemed to take in everybody in the room.

'Come, that's a little TOO strong, isn't it?' murmured the old man, glancing at General Epanchin in surprise.

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'How do you make out that the Roman Catholic religion is UNCHRISTIAN? What is it, then?' asked Ivan Petro- vitch, turning to the prince.

'It is not a Christian religion, in the first place,' said the latter, in extreme agitation, quite out of proportion to the necessity of the moment. 'And in the second place, Roman Catholicism is, in my opinion, worse than Atheism itself.

Yes— that is my opinion. Atheism only preaches a nega- tion, but Romanism goes further; it preaches a disfigured, distorted Christ—it preaches Anti-Christ—I assure you, I swear it! This is my own personal conviction, and it has long distressed me. The Roman Catholic believes that the Church on earth cannot stand without universal temporal Power. He cries 'non possumus!' In my opinion the Roman Catho- lic religion is not a faith at all, but simply a continuation of the Roman Empire, and everything is subordinated to this idea—beginning with faith. The Pope has seized territories and an earthly throne, and has held them with the sword.

And so the thing has gone on, only that to the sword they have added lying, intrigue, deceit, fanaticism, superstition, swindling;—they have played fast and loose with the most sacred and sincere feelings of men;—they have exchanged everything—everything for money, for base earthly POW- ER! And is this not the teaching of Anti-Christ? How could the upshot of all this be other than Atheism? Atheism is the child of Roman Catholicism—it proceeded from these Ro- mans themselves, though perhaps they would not believe it. It grew and fattened on hatred of its parents; it is the prog- eny of their lies and spiritual feebleness. Atheism! In our

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country it is only among the upper classes that you find unbelievers; men who have lost the root or spirit of their faith; but abroad whole masses of the people are beginning to profess unbelief—at first because of the darkness and lies by which they were surrounded; but now out of fanaticism, out of loathing for the Church and Christianity!'

The prince paused to get breath. He had spoken with ex- traordinary rapidity, and was very pale.

All present interchanged glances, but at last the old dig- nitary burst out laughing frankly. Prince N. took out his eye-glass to have a good look at the speaker. The German poet came out of his corner and crept nearer to the table, with a spiteful smile.

'You exaggerate the matter very much,' said Ivan Petro- vitch, with rather a bored air. 'There are, in the foreign Churches, many representatives of their faith who are wor- thy of respect and esteem.'

'Oh, but I did not speak of individual representatives. I was merely talking about Roman Catholicism, and its essence—of Rome itself. A Church can never entirely dis- appear; I never hinted at that!'

'Agreed that all this may be true; but we need not discuss a subject which belongs to the domain of theology.'

'Oh, no; oh, no! Not to theology alone, I assure you! Why, Socialism is the progeny of Romanism and of the Romanis- tic spirit. It and its brother Atheism proceed from Despair in opposition to Catholicism. It seeks to replace in itself the moral power of religion, in order to appease the spiritual thirst of parched humanity and save it; not by Christ, but

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by force. 'Don't dare to believe in God, don't dare to possess any individuality, any property! Fraternite ou la Mort; two million heads. 'By their works ye shall know them'—we are told. And we must not suppose that all this is harmless and without danger to ourselves. Oh, no; we must resist, and quickly, quickly! We must let out Christ shine forth upon the Western nations, our Christ whom we have preserved intact, and whom they have never known. Not as slaves, al- lowing ourselves to be caught by the hooks of the Jesuits, but carrying our Russian civilization to THEM, we must stand before them, not letting it be said among us that their preaching is 'skilful,' as someone expressed it just now.'

'But excuse me, excuse me;' cried Ivan Petrovitch consid- erably disturbed, and looking around uneasily. 'Your ideas are, of course, most praiseworthy, and in the highest degree patriotic; but you exaggerate the matter terribly. It would be better if we dropped the subject.'

'No, sir, I do not exaggerate, I understate the matter, if anything, undoubtedly understate it; simply because I can- not express myself as I should like, but—'

'Allow me!'

The prince was silent. He sat straight up in his chair and gazed fervently at Ivan Petrovitch.

'It seems to me that you have been too painfully impressed by the news of what happened to your good benefactor,' said the old dignitary, kindly, and with the utmost calmness of demeanour. 'You are excitable, perhaps as the result of your solitary life. If you would make up your mind to live more among your fellows in society, I trust, I am sure, that the

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world would be glad to welcome you, as a remarkable young man; and you would soon find yourself able to look at things more calmly. You would see that all these things are much simpler than you think; and, besides, these rare cases come about, in my opinion, from ennui and from satiety.'

'Exactly, exactly! That is a true thought!' cried the prince. 'From ennui, from our ennui but not from satiety! Oh, no, you are wrong there! Say from THIRST if you like; the thirst

of fever! And please do not suppose that this is so small a matter that we may have a laugh at it and dismiss it; we must be able to foresee our disasters and arm against them. We Russians no sooner arrive at the brink of the water, and re- alize that we are really at the brink, than we are so delighted with the outlook that in we plunge and swim to the farthest point we can see. Why is this? You say you are surprised at Pavlicheff's action; you ascribe it to madness, to kindness of heart, and what not, but it is not so.

'Our Russian intensity not only astonishes ourselves; all Europe wonders at our conduct in such cases! For, if one of us goes over to Roman Catholicism, he is sure to become a Jesuit at once, and a rabid one into the bargain. If one of us becomes an Atheist, he must needs begin to insist on the prohibition of faith in God by force, that is, by the sword. Why is this? Why does he then exceed all bounds at once? Because he has found land at last, the fatherland that he sought in vain before; and, because his soul is rejoiced to find it, he throws himself upon it and kisses it! Oh, it is not from vanity alone, it is not from feelings of vanity that Rus- sians become Atheists and Jesuits! But from spiritual thirst,

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from anguish of longing for higher things, for dry firm land, for foothold on a fatherland which they never believed in be- cause they never knew it. It is easier for a Russian to become an Atheist, than for any other nationality in the world. And not only does a Russian 'become an Atheist,' but he actually BELIEVES IN Atheism, just as though he had found a new faith, not perceiving that he has pinned his faith to a nega- tion. Such is our anguish of thirst! 'Whoso has no country has no God.' That is not my own expression; it is the expres- sion of a merchant, one of the Old Believers, whom I once met while travelling. He did not say exactly these words. I think his expression was:

'Whoso forsakes his country forsakes his God.'

'But let these thirsty Russian souls find, like Columbus' discoverers, a new world; let them find the Russian world, let them search and discover all the gold and treasure that lies hid in the bosom of their own land! Show them the res- titution of lost humanity, in the future, by Russian thought alone, and by means of the God and of the Christ of our Russian faith, and you will see how mighty and just and wise and good a giant will rise up before the eyes of the astonished and frightened world; astonished because they expect nothing but the sword from us, because they think they will get nothing out of us but barbarism. This has been the case up to now, and the longer matters go on as they are now proceeding, the more clear will be the truth of what I say; and I—'

But at this moment something happened which put a most unexpected end to the orator's speech. All this heat-

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ed tirade, this outflow of passionate words and ecstatic ideas which seemed to hustle and tumble over each other as they fell from his lips, bore evidence of some unusually disturbed mental condition in the young fellow who had 'boiled over' in such a remarkable manner, without any ap- parent reason.

Of those who were present, such as knew the prince lis- tened to his outburst in a state of alarm, some with a feeling of mortification. It was so unlike his usual timid self-con- straint; so inconsistent with his usual taste and tact, and with his instinctive feeling for the higher proprieties. They could not understand the origin of the outburst; it could not be simply the news of Pavlicheff's perversion. By the ladies the prince was regarded as little better than a lunatic, and Princess Bielokonski admitted afterwards that 'in another minute she would have bolted.'

The two old gentlemen looked quite alarmed. The old general (Epanchin's chief) sat and glared at the prince in severe displeasure. The colonel sat immovable. Even the German poet grew a little pale, though he wore his usual artificial smile as he looked around to see what the others would do.

In point of fact it is quite possible that the matter would have ended in a very commonplace and natural way in a few minutes. The undoubtedly astonished, but now more col- lected, General Epanchin had several times endeavoured to interrupt the prince, and not having succeeded he was now preparing to take firmer and more vigorous measures to attain his end. In another minute or two he would prob-

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ably have made up his mind to lead the prince quietly out of the room, on the plea of his being ill (and it was more than likely that the general was right in his belief that the prince WAS actually ill), but it so happened that destiny had some- thing different in store.

At the beginning of the evening, when the prince first came into the room, he had sat down as far as possible from the Chinese vase which Aglaya had spoken of the day be- fore.

Will it be believed that, after Aglaya's alarming words, an ineradicable conviction had taken possession of his mind that, however he might try to avoid this vase next day, he must certainly break it? But so it was.

During the evening other impressions began to awaken in his mind, as we have seen, and he forgot his presentiment. But when Pavlicheff was mentioned and the general intro- duced him to Ivan Petrovitch, he had changed his place, and went over nearer to the table; when, it so happened, he took the chair nearest to the beautiful vase, which stood on a pedestal behind him, just about on a level with his elbow.

As he spoke his last words he had risen suddenly from his seat with a wave of his arm, and there was a general cry of horror.

The huge vase swayed backwards and forwards; it seemed to be uncertain whether or no to topple over on to the head of one of the old men, but eventually determined to go the other way, and came crashing over towards the German poet, who darted out of the way in terror.

The crash, the cry, the sight of the fragments of valuable Free eBooks at Planet

china covering the carpet, the alarm of the company—what all this meant to the poor prince it would be difficult to con- vey to the mind of the reader, or for him to imagine.

But one very curious fact was that all the shame and vexation and mortification which he felt over the accident were less powerful than the deep impression of the almost supernatural truth of his premonition. He stood still in alarm—in almost superstitious alarm, for a moment; then all mists seemed to clear away from his eyes; he was con- scious of nothing but light and joy and ecstasy; his breath came and went; but the moment passed. Thank God it was not that! He drew a long breath and looked around.

For some minutes he did not seem to comprehend the excitement around him; that is, he comprehended it and saw everything, but he stood aside, as it were, like some- one invisible in a fairy tale, as though he had nothing to do with what was going on, though it pleased him to take an interest in it.

He saw them gather up the broken bits of china; he heard the loud talking of the guests and observed how pale Agla- ya looked, and how very strangely she was gazing at him.

There was no hatred in her expression, and no anger whatev- er. It was full of alarm for him, and sympathy and affection, while she looked around at the others with flashing, angry eyes. His heart filled with a sweet pain as he gazed at her.

At length he observed, to his amazement, that all had taken their seats again, and were laughing and talking as though nothing had happened. Another minute and the laughter grew louder—they were laughing at him, at his

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dumb stupor—laughing kindly and merrily. Several of them spoke to him, and spoke so kindly and cordially, es- pecially Lizabetha Prokofievna—she was saying the kindest possible things to him.

Suddenly he became aware that General Epanchin was tapping him on the shoulder; Ivan Petrovitch was laugh- ing too, but still more kind and sympathizing was the old dignitary. He took the prince by the hand and pressed it warmly; then he patted it, and quietly urged him to rec- ollect himself—speaking to him exactly as he would have spoken to a little frightened child, which pleased the prince wonderfully; and next seated him beside himself.

The prince gazed into his face with pleasure, but still seemed to have no power to speak. His breath failed him.

The old man's face pleased him greatly.

'Do you really forgive me?' he said at last. 'And—and Liz-

abetha Prokofievna too?' The laugh increased, tears came into the prince's eyes, he could not believe in all this kind- ness—he was enchanted.

'The vase certainly was a very beautiful one. I remem- ber it here for fifteen years—yes, quite that!' remarked Ivan Petrovitch.

'Oh, what a dreadful calamity! A wretched vase smashed, and a man half dead with remorse about it,' said Lizabetha Prokofievna, loudly. 'What made you so dreadfully startled, Lef Nicolaievitch?' she added, a little timidly. 'Come, my dear boy! cheer up. You really alarm me, taking the acci- dent so to heart.'

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said the prince, rising from his seat once more, but the old gentleman caught his hand and drew him down again—he seemed unwilling to let him go.

'C'est tres-curieux et c'est tres-serieux,' he whispered across the table to Ivan Petrovitch, rather loudly. Probably the prince heard him.

'So that I have not offended any of you? You will not be- lieve how happy I am to be able to think so. It is as it should be. As if I COULD offend anyone here! I should offend you again by even suggesting such a thing.'

'Calm yourself, my dear fellow. You are exaggerating again; you really have no occasion to be so grateful to us. It is a feeling which does you great credit, but an exaggera- tion, for all that.'

'I am not exactly thanking you, I am only feeling a growing admiration for you—it makes me happy to look at you. I dare say I am speaking very foolishly, but I must speak—I must explain, if it be out of nothing better than self-respect.'

All he said and did was abrupt, confused, feverish—very likely the words he spoke, as often as not, were not those he wished to say. He seemed to inquire whether he MIGHT speak. His eyes lighted on Princess Bielokonski.

'All right, my friend, talk away, talk away!' she remarked. 'Only don't lose your breath; you were in such a hurry when you began, and look what you've come to now! Don't be afraid of speaking— all these ladies and gentlemen have seen far stranger people than yourself; you don't astonish THEM. You are nothing out-of-the-way remarkable, you

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know. You've done nothing but break a vase, and give us all a fright.'

The prince listened, smiling.

'Wasn't it you,' he said, suddenly turning to the old gen- tleman, 'who saved the student Porkunoff and a clerk called Shoabrin from being sent to Siberia, two or three months since?'

The old dignitary blushed a little, and murmured that the prince had better not excite himself further.

'And I have heard of YOU,' continued the prince, address- ing Ivan Petrovitch, 'that when some of your villagers were burned out you gave them wood to build up their houses again, though they were no longer your serfs and had be- haved badly towards you.'

'Oh, come, come! You are exaggerating,' said Ivan Petro- vitch, beaming with satisfaction, all the same. He was right, however, in this instance, for the report had reached the prince's ears in an incorrect form.

'And you, princess,' he went on, addressing Princess Bielokonski, 'was it not you who received me in Moscow, six months since, as kindly as though I had been your own son, in response to a letter from Lizabetha Prokofievna; and gave me one piece of advice, again as to your own son, which I shall never forget? Do you remember?'

'What are you making such a fuss about?' said the old lady, with annoyance. 'You are a good fellow, but very sil- ly. One gives you a halfpenny, and you are as grateful as though one had saved your life. You think this is praisewor- thy on your part, but it is not —it is not, indeed.'

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She seemed to be very angry, but suddenly burst out laughing, quite good-humouredly.

Lizabetha Prokofievna's face brightened up, too; so did that of General Epanchin.

'I told you Lef Nicolaievitch was a man—a man—if only he would not be in such a hurry, as the princess remarked,' said the latter, with delight.

Aglaya alone seemed sad and depressed; her face was flushed, perhaps with indignation.

'He really is very charming,' whispered the old dignitary to Ivan Petrovitch.

'I came into this room with anguish in my heart,' con- tinued the prince, with ever-growing agitation, speaking quicker and quicker, and with increasing strangeness. 'I—I was afraid of you all, and afraid of myself. I was most afraid of myself. When I returned to Petersburg, I promised myself to make a point of seeing our greatest men, and members of our oldest families—the old families like my own. I am now among princes like myself, am I not? I wished to know you, and it was necessary, very, very necessary. I had always heard so much that was evil said of you all—more evil than good; as to how small and petty were your interests, how absurd your habits, how shallow your education, and so on. There is so much written and said about you! I came here today with anxious curiosity; I wished to see for my- self and form my own convictions as to whether it were true that the whole of this upper stratum of Russian society is WORTHLESS, has outlived its time, has existed too long, and is only fit to die— and yet is dying with petty, spiteful

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warring against that which is destined to supersede it and take its place—hindering the Coming Men, and knowing not that itself is in a dying condition. I did not fully believe in this view even before, for there never was such a class among us—excepting perhaps at court, by accident—or by uniform; but now there is not even that, is there? It has van- ished, has it not?'

'No, not a bit of it,' said Ivan Petrovitch, with a sarcastic laugh.

'Good Lord, he's off again!' said Princess Bielokonski, impatiently.

'Laissez-le dire! He is trembling all over,' said the old man, in a warning whisper.

The prince certainly was beside himself.

'Well? What have I seen?' he continued. 'I have seen men of graceful simplicity of intellect; I have seen an old man who is not above speaking kindly and even LISTENING to a boy like myself; I see before me persons who can under- stand, who can forgive—kind, good Russian hearts—hearts almost as kind and cordial as I met abroad. Imagine how delighted I must have been, and how surprised! Oh, let me express this feeling! I have so often heard, and I have even believed, that in society there was nothing but empty forms, and that reality had vanished; but I now see for myself that this can never be the case HERE, among us—it may be the order elsewhere, but not in Russia. Surely you are not all Je- suits and deceivers! I heard Prince N.'s story just now. Was it not simple-minded, spontaneous humour? Could such words come from the lips of a man who is dead?—a man

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whose heart and talents are dried up? Could dead men and women have treated me so kindly as you have all been treat- ing me to-day? Is there not material for the future in all this—for hope? Can such people fail to UNDERSTAND? Can such men fall away from reality?'

'Once more let us beg you to be calm, my dear boy. We'll talk of all this another time—I shall do so with the greatest pleasure, for one,' said the old dignitary, with a smile.

Ivan Petrovitch grunted and twisted round in his chair. General Epanchin moved nervously. The latter's chief had started a conversation with the wife of the dignitary, and took no notice whatever of the prince, but the old lady very often glanced at him, and listened to what he was saying.

'No, I had better speak,' continued the prince, with a new outburst of feverish emotion, and turning towards the old man with an air of confidential trustfulness.' Yesterday,

Aglaya Ivanovna forbade me to talk, and even specified the particular subjects I must not touch upon—she knows well enough that I am odd when I get upon these matters. I am nearly twenty-seven years old, and yet I know I am little better than a child. I have no right to express my ideas, and said so long ago. Only in Moscow, with Rogojin, did I ever speak absolutely freely! He and I read Pushkin together— all his works. Rogojin knew nothing of Pushkin, had not even heard his name. I am always afraid of spoiling a great Thought or Idea by my absurd manner. I have no eloquence, I know. I always make the wrong gestures— inappropriate gestures—and therefore I degrade the Thought, and raise a laugh instead of doing my subject justice. I have no sense

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of proportion either, and that is the chief thing. I know it would be much better if I were always to sit still and say nothing. When I do so, I appear to be quite a sensible sort of a person, and what's more, I think about things. But now I must speak; it is better that I should. I began to speak be- cause you looked so kindly at me; you have such a beautiful face. I promised Aglaya Ivanovna yesterday that I would not speak all the evening.'

'Really?' said the old man, smiling.

'But, at times, I can't help thinking that I am. wrong in feeling so about it, you know. Sincerity is more important than elocution, isn't it?'

'Sometimes.'

'I want to explain all to you—everything—everything! I know you think me Utopian, don't you—an idealist? Oh, no! I'm not, indeed—my ideas are all so simple. You don't believe me? You are smiling. Do you know, I am sometimes very wicked—for I lose my faith? This evening as I came here, I thought to myself, 'What shall I talk about? How am I to begin, so that they may be able to understand partially, at all events?' How afraid I was— dreadfully afraid! And yet, how COULD I be afraid—was it not shameful of me? Was I afraid of finding a bottomless abyss of empty selfish- ness? Ah! that's why I am so happy at this moment, because I find there is no bottomless abyss at all—but good, healthy material, full of life.

'It is not such a very dreadful circumstance that we are odd people, is it? For we really are odd, you know—careless, reckless, easily wearied of anything. We don't look thor-

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oughly into matters—don't care to understand things. We are all like this—you and I, and all of them! Why, here are you, now—you are not a bit angry with me for calling you odd,' are you? And, if so, surely there is good material in you? Do you know, I sometimes think it is a good thing to be odd. We can forgive one another more easily, and be more humble. No one can begin by being perfect—there is much one cannot understand in life at first. In order to attain to perfection, one must begin by failing to understand much. And if we take in knowledge too quickly, we very likely are not taking it in at all. I say all this to you—you who by this time understand so much—and doubtless have failed to un- derstand so much, also. I am not afraid of you any longer. You are not angry that a mere boy should say such words to you, are you? Of course not! You know how to forget and to forgive. You are laughing, Ivan Petrovitch? You think I am a champion of other classes of people—that I am THEIR ad- vocate, a democrat, and an orator of Equality?' The prince laughed hysterically; he had several times burst into these little, short nervous laughs. 'Oh, no—it is for you, for myself, and for all of us together, that I am alarmed. I am a prince of an old family myself, and I am sitting among my peers; and I am talking like this in the hope of saving us all; in the hope that our class will not disappear altogether—into the darkness—unguessing its danger—blaming everything around it, and losing ground every day. Why should we dis- appear and give place to others, when we may still, if we choose, remain in the front rank and lead the battle? Let us be servants, that we may become lords in due season!'

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He tried to get upon his feet again, but the old man still restrained him, gazing at him with increasing perturbation as he went on.

'Listen—I know it is best not to speak! It is best simply to give a good example—simply to begin the work. I have done this— I have begun, and—and—oh! CAN anyone be unhappy, really? Oh! what does grief matter—what does misfortune matter, if one knows how to be happy? Do you know, I cannot understand how anyone can pass by a green tree, and not feel happy only to look at it! How anyone can talk to a man and not feel happy in loving him! Oh, it is my own fault that I cannot express myself well enough! But there are lovely things at every step I take—things which even the most miserable man must recognize as beautiful. Look at a little child—look at God's day-dawn—look at the grass growing— look at the eyes that love you, as they gaze back into your eyes!'

He had risen, and was speaking standing up. The old gentleman was looking at him now in unconcealed alarm. Lizabetha Prokofievna wrung her hands. 'Oh, my God!' she cried. She had guessed the state of the case before anyone else.

Aglaya rushed quickly up to him, and was just in time to receive him in her arms, and to hear with dread and horror that awful, wild cry as he fell writhing to the ground.

There he lay on the carpet, and someone quickly placed a cushion under his head.

No one had expected this.

In a quarter of an hour or so Prince N. and Evgenie

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Pavlovitch and the old dignitary were hard at work endeav- ouring to restore the harmony of the evening, but it was of no avail, and very soon after the guests separated and went their ways.

A great deal of sympathy was expressed; a considerable amount of advice was volunteered; Ivan Petrovitch ex- pressed his opinion that the young man was 'a Slavophile, or something of that sort"; but that it was not a dangerous development. The old dignitary said nothing.

True enough, most of the guests, next day and the day after, were not in very good humour. Ivan Petrovitch was a little offended, but not seriously so. General Epanchin's chief was rather cool towards him for some while after the occurrence. The old dignitary, as patron of the family, took the opportunity of murmuring some kind of admonition to the general, and added, in flattering terms, that he was most interested in Aglaya's future. He was a man who really did possess a kind heart, although his interest in the prince, in the earlier part of the evening, was due, among other rea- sons, to the latter's connection with Nastasia Philipovna, according to popular report. He had heard a good deal of this story here and there, and was greatly interested in it, so much so that he longed to ask further questions about it.

Princess Bielokonski, as she drove away on this eventful evening, took occasion to say to Lizabetha Prokofievna:

'Well—he's a good match—and a bad one; and if you want my opinion, more bad than good. You can see for yourself the man is an invalid.'

Lizabetha therefore decided that the prince was impos- The Idiot

sible as a husband for Aglaya; and during the ensuing night she made a vow that never while she lived should he marry Aglaya. With this resolve firmly impressed upon her mind, she awoke next day; but during the morning, after her early lunch, she fell into a condition of remarkable inconsistency. In reply to a very guarded question of her sisters', Aglaya

had answered coldly, but exceedingly haughtily:

'I have never given him my word at all, nor have I ever counted him as my future husband—never in my life. He is

just as little to me as all the rest.'

Lizabetha Prokofievna suddenly flared up.

'I did not expect that of you, Aglaya,' she said. 'He is an impossible husband for you,—I know it; and thank God that we agree upon that point; but I did not expect to hear such words from you. I thought I should hear a very differ- ent tone from you. I would have turned out everyone who was in the room last night and kept him,—that's the sort of man he is, in my opinion!'

Here she suddenly paused, afraid of what she had just said. But she little knew how unfair she was to her daughter at that moment. It was all settled in Aglaya's mind. She was only waiting for the hour that would bring the matter to a final climax; and every hint, every careless probing of her wound, did but further lacerate her heart.

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VIII

THIS same morning dawned for the prince pregnant with no less painful presentiments,—which fact his physical state was, of course, quite enough to account for; but he was

so indefinably melancholy,—his sadness could not attach it- self to anything in particular, and this tormented him more than anything else. Of course certain facts stood before him, clear and painful, but his sadness went beyond all that he could remember or imagine; he realized that he was power- less to console himself unaided. Little by little he began to develop the expectation that this day something important, something decisive, was to happen to him.

His attack of yesterday had been a slight one. Except- ing some little heaviness in the head and pain in the limbs, he did not feel any particular effects. His brain worked all right, though his soul was heavy within him.

He rose late, and immediately upon waking remem- bered all about the previous evening; he also remembered, though not quite so clearly, how, half an hour after his fit, he had been carried home.

He soon heard that a messenger from the Epanchins' had already been to inquire after him. At half-past eleven another arrived; and this pleased him.

Vera Lebedeff was one of the first to come to see him and offer her services. No sooner did she catch sight of him than

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she burst into tears; but when he tried to soothe her she began to laugh. He was quite struck by the girl's deep sym- pathy for him; he seized her hand and kissed it. Vera flushed crimson.

'Oh, don't, don't!' she exclaimed in alarm, snatching her hand away. She went hastily out of the room in a state of strange confusion.

Lebedeff also came to see the prince, in a great hurry to get away to the 'deceased,' as he called General Ivolgin, who was alive still, but very ill. Colia also turned up, and begged the prince for pity's sake to tell him all he knew about his father which had been concealed from him till now. He said he had found out nearly everything since yesterday; the poor boy was in a state of deep affliction. With all the sympathy which he could bring into play, the prince told Colia the whole story without reserve, detailing the facts as clearly as he could. The tale struck Colia like a thunderbolt. He could not speak. He listened silently, and cried softly to himself the while. The prince perceived that this was an impression which would last for the whole of the boy's life. He made haste to explain his view of the matter, and pointed out that the old man's approaching death was probably brought on by horror at the thought of his action; and that it was not everyone who was capable of such a feeling.

Colia's eyes flashed as he listened.

'Gania and Varia and Ptitsin are a worthless lot! I shall

not quarrel with them; but from this moment our feet shall not travel the same road. Oh, prince, I have felt much that is quite new to me since yesterday! It is a lesson for me. I

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shall now consider my mother as entirely my responsibility; though she may be safe enough with Varia. Still, meat and drink is not everything.'

He jumped up and hurried off, remembering sudden- ly that he was wanted at his father's bedside; but before he went out of the room he inquired hastily after the prince's health, and receiving the latter's reply, added:

'Isn't there something else, prince? I heard yesterday, but I have no right to talk about this... If you ever want a true friend and servant—neither you nor I are so very happy, are we? —come to me. I won't ask you questions, though.'

He ran off and left the prince more dejected than ever.

Everyone seemed to be speaking prophetically, hinting at some misfortune or sorrow to come; they had all looked at him as though they knew something which he did not know. Lebedeff had asked questions, Colia had hinted, and

Vera had shed tears. What was it?

At last, with a sigh of annoyance, he said to himself that

it was nothing but his own cursed sickly suspicion. His face lighted up with joy when, at about two o'clock, he espied the Epanchins coming along to pay him a short visit, 'just for a minute.' They really had only come for a minute.

Lizabetha Prokofievna had announced, directly after lunch, that they would all take a walk together. The in- formation was given in the form of a command, without explanation, drily and abruptly. All had issued forth in obedience to the mandate; that is, the girls, mamma, and Prince S. Lizabetha Prokofievna went off in a direction ex- actly contrary to the usual one, and all understood very well

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what she was driving at, but held their peace, fearing to ir- ritate the good lady. She, as though anxious to avoid any conversation, walked ahead, silent and alone. At last Ad- elaida remarked that it was no use racing along at such a pace, and that she could not keep up with her mother.

'Look here,' said Lizabetha Prokofievna, turning round suddenly; 'we are passing his house. Whatever Aglaya may think, and in spite of anything that may happen, he is not a stranger to us; besides which, he is ill and in misfortune. I, for one, shall call in and see him. Let anyone follow me who cares to.'

Of course every one of them followed her.

The prince hastened to apologize, very properly, for yes-

terday's mishap with the vase, and for the scene generally. 'Oh, that's nothing,' replied Lizabetha; 'I'm not sorry for the vase, I'm sorry for you. H'm! so you can see that there

was a 'scene,' can you? Well, it doesn't matter much, for ev- eryone must realize now that it is impossible to be hard on you. Well, au revoir. I advise you to have a walk, and then go to sleep again if you can. Come in as usual, if you feel in- clined; and be assured, once for all, whatever happens, and whatever may have happened, you shall always remain the friend of the family—mine, at all events. I can answer for myself.'

In response to this challenge all the others chimed in and reechoed mamma's sentiments.

And so they took their departure; but in this hasty and kindly designed visit there was hidden a fund of cruel- ty which Lizabetha Prokofievna never dreamed of. In the

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words 'as usual,' and again in her added, 'mine, at all events,' there seemed an ominous knell of some evil to come.

The prince began to think of Aglaya. She had certainly given him a wonderful smile, both at coming and again at leave-taking, but had not said a word, not even when the others all professed their friendship for him. She had looked very intently at him, but that was all. Her face had been pal- er than usual; she looked as though she had slept badly.

The prince made up his mind that he would make a point of going there 'as usual,' tonight, and looked feverishly at his watch.

Vera came in three minutes after the Epanchins had left. 'Lef Nicolaievitch,' she said, 'Aglaya Ivanovna has just given

me a message for you.'

The prince trembled.

'Is it a note?'

'No, a verbal message; she had hardly time even for that.

She begs you earnestly not to go out of the house for a single moment all to-day, until seven o'clock in the evening. It may have been nine; I didn't quite hear.'

'But—but, why is this? What does it mean?'

'I don't know at all; but she said I was to tell you particu- larly.'

'Did she say that?'

'Not those very words. She only just had time to whis- per as she went by; but by the way she looked at me I knew it was important. She looked at me in a way that made my heart stop beating.'

The prince asked a few more questions, and though he The Idiot

learned nothing else, he became more and more agitated. Left alone, he lay down on the sofa, and began to think.

'Perhaps,' he thought, 'someone is to be with them until nine tonight and she is afraid that I may come and make a fool of myself again, in public.' So he spent his time longing for the evening and looking at his watch. But the clearing- up of the mystery came long before the evening, and came in the form of a new and agonizing riddle.

Half an hour after the Epanchins had gone, Hippolyte arrived, so tired that, almost unconscious, he sank into a chair, and broke into such a fit of coughing that he could not stop. He coughed till the blood came. His eyes glittered, and two red spots on his cheeks grew brighter and bright- er. The prince murmured something to him, but Hippolyte only signed that he must be left alone for a while, and sat silent. At last he came to himself.

'I am off,' he said, hoarsely, and with difficulty.

'Shall I see you home?' asked the prince, rising from his seat, but suddenly stopping short as he remembered Aglaya's prohibition against leaving the house. Hippolyte laughed.

'I don't mean that I am going to leave your house,' he continued, still gasping and coughing. 'On the contrary, I thought it absolutely necessary to come and see you; oth- erwise I should not have troubled you. I am off there, you know, and this time I believe, seriously, that I am off! It's all over. I did not come here for sympathy, believe me. I lay down this morning at ten o'clock with the intention of not rising again before that time; but I thought it over and rose just once more in order to come here; from which you may

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deduce that I had some reason for wishing to come.'

'It grieves me to see you so, Hippolyte. Why didn't you send me a message? I would have come up and saved you

this trouble.'

'Well, well! Enough! You've pitied me, and that's all that

good manners exact. I forgot, how are you?'

'I'm all right; yesterday I was a little—'

'I know, I heard; the china vase caught it! I'm sorry I

wasn't there. I've come about something important. In the first place I had, the pleasure of seeing Gavrila Ardaliono- vitch and Aglaya Ivanovna enjoying a rendezvous on the green bench in the park. I was astonished to see what a fool a man can look. I remarked upon the fact to Aglaya Ivanov- na when he had gone. I don't think anything ever surprises you, prince!' added Hippolyte, gazing incredulously at the prince's calm demeanour. 'To be astonished by nothing is a sign, they say, of a great intellect. In my opinion it would serve equally well as a sign of great foolishness. I am not hinting about you; pardon me! I am very unfortunate today in my expressions.

'I knew yesterday that Gavrila Ardalionovitch—' began the prince, and paused in evident confusion, though Hip- polyte had shown annoyance at his betraying no surprise.

'You knew it? Come, that's news! But no—perhaps better not tell me. And were you a witness of the meeting?'

'If you were there yourself you must have known that I was NOT there!'

'Oh! but you may have been sitting behind the bushes somewhere. However, I am very glad, on your account, of

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course. I was beginning to be afraid that Mr. Gania—might have the preference!'

'May I ask you, Hippolyte, not to talk of this subject? And not to use such expressions?'

'Especially as you know all, eh?'

'You are wrong. I know scarcely anything, and Aglaya Ivanovna is aware that I know nothing. I knew nothing whatever about this meeting. You say there was a meeting. Very well; let's leave it so—'

'Why, what do you mean? You said you knew, and now suddenly you know nothing! You say 'very well; let's leave it so.' But I say, don't be so confiding, especially as you know nothing. You are confiding simply BECAUSE you know nothing. But do you know what these good people have in their minds' eye—Gania and his sister? Perhaps you are suspicious? Well, well, I'll drop the subject!' he added, hast- ily, observing the prince's impatient gesture. 'But I've come to you on my own business; I wish to make you a clear ex- planation. What a nuisance it is that one cannot die without explanations! I have made such a quantity of them already. Do you wish to hear what I have to say?'

'Speak away, I am listening.'

'Very well, but I'll change my mind, and begin about Ga- nia. Just fancy to begin with, if you can, that I, too, was given an appointment at the green bench today! However, I won't deceive you; I asked for the appointment. I said I had a secret to disclose. I don't know whether I came there too early, I think I must have; but scarcely had I sat down beside Aglaya Ivanovna than I saw Gavrila Ardalionovitch and his sister

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Varia coming along, arm in arm, just as though they were enjoying a morning walk together. Both of them seemed very much astonished, not to say disturbed, at seeing me; they evidently had not expected the pleasure. Aglaya Iva- novna blushed up, and was actually a little confused. I don't know whether it was merely because I was there, or wheth- er Gania's beauty was too much for her! But anyway, she turned crimson, and then finished up the business in a very funny manner. She jumped up from her seat, bowed back to Gania, smiled to Varia, and suddenly observed: 'I only came here to express my gratitude for all your kind wishes on my behalf, and to say that if I find I need your services, believe me—' Here she bowed them away, as it were, and they both marched off again, looking very foolish. Gania evidently could not make head nor tail of the matter, and turned as red as a lobster; but Varia understood at once that they must get away as quickly as they could, so she dragged Gania away; she is a great deal cleverer than he is. As for myself, I went there to arrange a meeting to be held between

Aglaya Ivanovna and Nastasia Philipovna.'

'Nastasia Philipovna!' cried the prince.

'Aha! I think you are growing less cool, my friend, and

are beginning to be a trifle surprised, aren't you? I'm glad that you are not above ordinary human feelings, for once. I'll console you a little now, after your consternation. See what I get for serving a young and high-souled maiden!

This morning I received a slap in the face from the lady!' 'A—a moral one?' asked the prince, involuntarily. 'Yes—not a physical one! I don't suppose anyone—even

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a woman— would raise a hand against me now. Even Ga- nia would hesitate! I did think at one time yesterday, that he would fly at me, though. I bet anything that I know what you are thinking of now! You are thinking: 'Of course one can't strike the little wretch, but one could suffocate him with a pillow, or a wet towel, when he is asleep! One OUGHT to get rid of him somehow.' I can see in your face that you are thinking that at this very second.'

'I never thought of such a thing for a moment,' said the prince, with disgust.

'I don't know—I dreamed last night that I was being suf- focated with a wet cloth by—somebody. I'll tell you who it was—Rogojin! What do you think, can a man be suffocated with a wet cloth?'

'I don't know.'

'I've heard so. Well, we'll leave that question just now. Why am I a scandal-monger? Why did she call me a scandal- monger? And mind, AFTER she had heard every word I had to tell her, and had asked all sorts of questions besides—but such is the way of women. For HER sake I entered into rela- tions with Rogojin—an interesting man! At HER request I

arranged a personal interview between herself and Nasta- sia Philipovna. Could she have been angry because I hinted that she was enjoying Nastasia Philipovna's 'leavings'? Why, I have been impressing it upon her all this while for her own good. Two letters have I written her in that strain, and I began straight off today about its being humiliating for her. Besides, the word 'leavings' is not my invention. At all events, they all used it at Gania's, and she used it herself. So

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why am I a scandal-monger? I see—I see you are tremen- dously amused, at this moment! Probably you are laughing at me and fitting those silly lines to my case—

'Maybe sad Love upon his setting smiles, And with vain hopes his farewell hour beguiles.

'Ha, ha, ha!'

Hippolyte suddenly burst into a fit of hysterical laughter,

which turned into a choking cough.

'Observe,' he gasped, through his coughing, 'what a fel-

low Gania is! He talks about Nastasia's 'leavings,' but what does he want to take himself?'

The prince sat silent for a long while. His mind was filled with dread and horror.

'You spoke of a meeting with Nastasia Philipovna,' he said at last, in a low voice.

'Oh—come! Surely you must know that there is to be a meeting today between Nastasia and Aglaya Ivanovna, and that Nastasia has been sent for on purpose, through Rogojin, from St. Petersburg? It has been brought about by invita- tion of Aglaya Ivanovna and my own efforts, and Nastasia is at this moment with Rogojin, not far from here—at Dana

Alexeyevna's—that curious friend of hers; and to this ques- tionable house Aglaya Ivanovna is to proceed for a friendly chat with Nastasia Philipovna, and for the settlement of sev- eral problems. They are going to play at arithmetic—didn't you know about it? Word of honour?'

'It's a most improbable story.'

'Oh, very well! if it's improbable—it is—that's all! And yet— where should you have heard it? Though I must say,

The Idiot

if a fly crosses the room it's known all over the place here. However, I've warned you, and you may be grateful to me. Well—au revoir— probably in the next world! One more thing—don't think that I am telling you all this for your sake. Oh, dear, no! Do you know that I dedicated my con- fession to Aglaya Ivanovna? I did though, and how she took it, ha, ha! Oh, no! I am not acting from any high, exalted motives. But though I may have behaved like a cad to you, I have not done HER any harm. I don't apologize for my words about 'leavings' and all that. I am atoning for that, you see, by telling you the place and time of the meeting. Goodbye! You had better take your measures, if you are worthy the name of a man! The meeting is fixed for this evening—that's certain.'

Hippolyte walked towards the door, but the prince called him back and he stopped.

'Then you think Aglaya Ivanovna herself intends to go to Nastasia Philipovna's tonight?' he asked, and bright hectic spots came out on his cheeks and forehead.

'I don't know absolutely for certain; but in all probability it is so,' replied Hippolyte, looking round. 'Nastasia would hardly go to her; and they can't meet at Gania's, with a man nearly dead in the house.'

'It's impossible, for that very reason,' said the prince. 'How would she get out if she wished to? You don't know the habits of that house—she COULD not get away alone to

Nastasia Philipovna's! It's all nonsense!'

'Look here, my dear prince, no one jumps out of the win-

dow if they can help it; but when there's a fire, the dandiest Free eBooks at Planet

gentleman or the finest lady in the world will skip out! When the moment comes, and there's nothing else to be done— our young lady will go to Nastasia Philipovna's! Don't they let the young ladies out of the house alone, then?'

'I didn't mean that exactly.'

'If you didn't mean that, then she has only to go down the steps and walk off, and she need never come back unless she chooses: Ships are burned behind one sometimes, and one doesn't care to return whence one came. Life need not con- sist only of lunches, and dinners, and Prince S's. It strikes me you take Aglaya Ivanovna for some conventional board- ing-school girl. I said so to her, and she quite agreed with me. Wait till seven or eight o'clock. In your place I would send someone there to keep watch, so as to seize the exact moment when she steps out of the house. Send Colia. He'll play the spy with pleasure—for you at least. Ha, ha, ha!'

Hippolyte went out.

There was no reason for the prince to set anyone to watch, even if he had been capable of such a thing. Aglaya's com- mand that he should stay at home all day seemed almost explained now. Perhaps she meant to call for him, herself, or it might be, of course, that she was anxious to make sure of his not coming there, and therefore bade him remain at home. His head whirled; the whole room seemed to be turn- ing round. He lay down on the sofa, and closed his eyes.

One way or the other the question was to be decided at last— finally.

Oh, no, he did not think of Aglaya as a boarding-school miss, or a young lady of the conventional type! He had long

The Idiot

since feared that she might take some such step as this. But why did she wish to see Nastasia?

He shivered all over as he lay; he was in high fever again.

No! he did not account her a child. Certain of her looks, certain of her words, of late, had filled him with apprehen- sion. At times it had struck him that she was putting too great a restraint upon herself, and he remembered that he had been alarmed to observe this. He had tried, all these days, to drive away the heavy thoughts that oppressed him; but what was the hidden mystery of that soul? The question had long tormented him, although he implicitly trusted that soul. And now it was all to be cleared up. It was a dreadful thought. And 'that woman' again! Why did he always feel as though 'that woman' were fated to appear at each critical moment of his life, and tear the thread of his destiny like a bit of rotten string? That he always HAD felt this he was ready to swear, although he was half delirious at the mo- ment. If he had tried to forget her, all this time, it was simply because he was afraid of her. Did he love the woman or hate her? This question he did not once ask himself today; his heart was quite pure. He knew whom he loved. He was not so much afraid of this meeting, nor of its strangeness, nor of any reasons there might be for it, unknown to himself; he was afraid of the woman herself, Nastasia Philipovna. He remembered, some days afterwards, how during all those fevered hours he had seen but HER eyes, HER look, had heard HER voice, strange words of hers; he remembered that this was so, although he could not recollect the details of his thoughts.

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He could remember that Vera brought him some dinner, and that he took it; but whether he slept after dinner, or no, he could not recollect.

He only knew that he began to distinguish things clearly from the moment when Aglaya suddenly appeared, and he jumped up from the sofa and went to meet her. It was just a quarter past seven then.

Aglaya was quite alone, and dressed, apparently hastily, in a light mantle. Her face was pale, as it had been in the morning, and her eyes were ablaze with bright but subdued fire. He had never seen that expression in her eyes before.

She gazed attentively at him.

'You are quite ready, I observe,' she said, with absolute

composure, 'dressed, and your hat in your hand. I see somebody has thought fit to warn you, and I know who. Hippolyte?'

'Yes, he told me,' said the prince, feeling only half alive.

'Come then. You know, I suppose, that you must escort me there? You are well enough to go out, aren't you?'

'I am well enough; but is it really possible?—'

He broke off abruptly, and could not add another word. This was his one attempt to stop the mad child, and, after he

had made it, he followed her as though he had no will of his own. Confused as his thoughts were, he was, nevertheless, capable of realizing the fact that if he did not go with her, she would go alone, and so he must go with her at all haz- ards. He guessed the strength of her determination; it was beyond him to check it.

They walked silently, and said scarcely a word all the way. The Idiot

He only noticed that she seemed to know the road very well; and once, when he thought it better to go by a certain lane, and remarked to her that it would be quieter and less public, she only said, 'it's all the same,' and went on.

When they were almost arrived at Daria Alexeyevna's house (it was a large wooden structure of ancient date), a gorgeously-dressed lady and a young girl came out of it. Both these ladies took their seats in a carriage, which was waiting at the door, talking and laughing loudly the while, and drove away without appearing to notice the approach- ing couple.

No sooner had the carriage driven off than the door opened once more; and Rogojin, who had apparently been awaiting them, let them in and closed it after them.

'There is not another soul in the house now excepting our four selves,' he said aloud, looking at the prince in a strange way.

Nastasia Philipovna was waiting for them in the first room they went into. She was dressed very simply, in black. She rose at their entrance, but did not smile or give her hand, even to the prince. Her anxious eyes were fixed upon

Aglaya. Both sat down, at a little distance from one anoth- er—Aglaya on the sofa, in the corner of the room, Nastasia by the window. The prince and Rogojin remained standing, and were not invited to sit.

Muishkin glanced at Rogojin in perplexity, but the latter only smiled disagreeably, and said nothing. The silence con- tinued for some few moments.

An ominous expression passed over Nastasia Philipov- Free eBooks at Planet

na's face, of a sudden. It became obstinate-looking, hard, and full of hatred; but she did not take her eyes off her visi- tors for a moment.

Aglaya was clearly confused, but not frightened. On en- tering she had merely glanced momentarily at her rival, and then had sat still, with her eyes on the ground, apparently in thought. Once or twice she glanced casually round the room. A shade of disgust was visible in her expression; she looked as though she were afraid of contamination in this place.

She mechanically arranged her dress, and fidgeted un- comfortably, eventually changing her seat to the other end of the sofa. Probably she was unconscious of her own movements; but this very unconsciousness added to the of- fensiveness of their suggested meaning.

At length she looked straight into Nastasia's eyes, and in- stantly read all there was to read in her rival's expression. Woman understood woman! Aglaya shuddered.

'You know of course why I requested this meeting?' she said at last, quietly, and pausing twice in the delivery of this very short sentence.

'No—I know nothing about it,' said Nastasia, drily and abruptly.

Aglaya blushed. Perhaps it struck her as very strange and impossible that she should really be sitting here and waiting for 'that woman's' reply to her question.

At the first sound of Nastasia's voice a shudder ran through her frame. Of course 'that woman' observed and took in all this.

The Idiot

'You know quite well, but you are pretending to be igno- rant,' said Aglaya, very low, with her eyes on the ground.

'Why should I?' asked Nastasia Philipovna, smiling slightly.

'You want to take advantage of my position, now that I am in your house,' continued Aglaya, awkwardly.

'For that position YOU are to blame and not I,' said Nas- tasia, flaring up suddenly. 'I did not invite YOU, but you me; and to this moment I am quite ignorant as to why I am thus honoured.'

Aglaya raised her head haughtily.

'Restrain your tongue!' she said. 'I did not come here to fight you with your own weapons.

'Oh! then you did come 'to fight,' I may conclude? Dear me!—and I thought you were cleverer—'

They looked at one another with undisguised malice. One of these women had written to the other, so lately, such letters as we have seen; and it all was dispersed at their first meeting. Yet it appeared that not one of the four persons in the room considered this in any degree strange.

The prince who, up to yesterday, would not have believed that he could even dream of such an impossible scene as this, stood and listened and looked on, and felt as though he had long foreseen it all. The most fantastic dream seemed suddenly to have been metamorphosed into the most vivid reality.

One of these women so despised the other, and so longed to express her contempt for her (perhaps she had only come for that very purpose, as Rogojin said next day), that howso-

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ever fantastical was the other woman, howsoever afflicted her spirit and disturbed her understanding, no precon- ceived idea of hers could possibly stand up against that deadly feminine contempt of her rival. The prince felt sure that Nastasia would say nothing about the letters herself; but he could judge by her flashing eyes and the expression of her face what the thought of those letters must be cost- ing her at this moment. He would have given half his life to prevent Aglaya from speaking of them. But Aglaya sud- denly braced herself up, and seemed to master herself fully, all in an instant.

'You have not quite understood,' she said. 'I did not come to quarrel with you, though I do not like you. I came to speak to you as... as one human being to another. I came with my mind made up as to what I had to say to you, and I shall not change my intention, although you may misun- derstand me. So much the worse for you, not for myself! I wished to reply to all you have written to me and to reply personally, because I think that is the more convenient way. Listen to my reply to all your letters. I began to be sorry for Prince Lef Nicolaievitch on the very day I made his ac- quaintance, and when I heard—afterwards—of all that took place at your house in the evening, I was sorry for him be- cause he was such a simple-minded man, and because he, in the simplicity of his soul, believed that he could be hap- py with a woman of your character. What I feared actually took place; you could not love him, you tortured him, and threw him over. You could not love him because you are too proud—no, not proud, that is an error; because you are too

The Idiot

vain—no, not quite that either; too self-loving; you are self- loving to madness. Your letters to me are a proof of it. You could not love so simple a soul as his, and perhaps in your heart you despised him and laughed at him. All you could love was your shame and the perpetual thought that you were disgraced and insulted. If you were less shameful, or had no cause at all for shame, you would be still more un- happy than you are now.

Aglaya brought out these thronging words with great satisfaction. They came from her lips hurriedly and impetu- ously, and had been prepared and thought out long ago, even before she had ever dreamed of the present meeting. She watched with eagerness the effect of her speech as shown in Nastasia's face, which was distorted with agitation.

'You remember,' she continued, 'he wrote me a letter at that time; he says you know all about that letter and that you even read it. I understand all by means of this letter, and understand it correctly. He has since confirmed it all to me—what I now say to you, word for word. After receiving his letter I waited; I guessed that you would soon come back here, because you could never do without Petersburg; you are still too young and lovely for the provinces. However, this is not my own idea,' she added, blushing dreadfully; and from this moment the colour never left her cheeks to the end of her speech. When I next saw the prince I began to feel terribly pained and hurt on his account. Do not laugh; if you laugh you are unworthy of understanding what I say.'

'Surely you see that I am not laughing,' said Nastasia, sadly and sternly.

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'However, it's all the same to me; laugh or not, just as you please. When I asked him about you, he told me that he had long since ceased to love you, that the very recollection of you was a torture to him, but that he was sorry for you; and that when he thought of you his heart was pierced. I ought to tell you that I never in my life met a man anything like him for noble simplicity of mind and for boundless trust- fulness. I guessed that anyone who liked could deceive him, and that he would immediately forgive anyone who did de- ceive him; and it was for this that I grew to love him—'

Aglaya paused for a moment, as though suddenly brought up in astonishment that she could have said these words, but at the same time a great pride shone in her eyes, like a defiant assertion that it would not matter to her if 'this woman' laughed in her face for the admission just made.

'I have told you all now, and of course you understand what I wish of you.'

'Perhaps I do; but tell me yourself,' said Nastasia Phili- povna, quietly.

Aglaya flushed up angrily.

'I wished to find out from you,' she said, firmly, 'by what right you dare to meddle with his feelings for me? By what right you dared send me those letters? By what right do you continually remind both me and him that you love him, af- ter you yourself threw him over and ran away from him in so insulting and shameful a way?'

'I never told either him or you that I loved him!' replied Nastasia Philipovna, with an effort. 'And—and I did run away from him—you are right there,' she added, scarcely

The Idiot

audibly.

'Never told either him or me?' cried Aglaya. 'How about

your letters? Who asked you to try to persuade me to mar- ry him? Was not that a declaration from you? Why do you force yourself upon us in this way? I confess I thought at first that you were anxious to arouse an aversion for him in my heart by your meddling, in order that I might give him up; and it was only afterwards that I guessed the truth. You imagined that you were doing an heroic action! How could you spare any love for him, when you love your own van- ity to such an extent? Why could you not simply go away from here, instead of writing me those absurd letters? Why do you not NOW marry that generous man who loves you, and has done you the honour of offering you his hand? It is plain enough why; if you marry Rogojin you lose your grievance; you will have nothing more to complain of. You will be receiving too much honour. Evgenie Pavlovitch was saying the other day that you had read too many poems and are too well educated for—your position; and that you live in idleness. Add to this your vanity, and, there you have reason enough—'

'And do you not live in idleness?'

Things had come to this unexpected point too quickly. Unexpected because Nastasia Philipovna, on her way to Pavlofsk, had thought and considered a good deal, and had expected something different, though perhaps not altogeth- er good, from this interview; but Aglaya had been carried away by her own outburst, just as a rolling stone gathers im- petus as it careers downhill, and could not restrain herself

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in the satisfaction of revenge.

It was strange, Nastasia Philipovna felt, to see Aglaya

like this. She gazed at her, and could hardly believe her eyes and ears for a moment or two.

Whether she were a woman who had read too many po- ems, as Evgenie Pavlovitch supposed, or whether she were mad, as the prince had assured Aglaya, at all events, this was a woman who, in spite of her occasionally cynical and audacious manner, was far more refined and trustful and sensitive than appeared. There was a certain amount of ro- mantic dreaminess and caprice in her, but with the fantastic was mingled much that was strong and deep.

The prince realized this, and great suffering expressed itself in his face.

Aglaya observed it, and trembled with anger.

'How dare you speak so to me?' she said, with a haughti- ness which was quite indescribable, replying to Nastasia's last remark.

'You must have misunderstood what I said,' said Nastasia, in some surprise.

'If you wished to preserve your good name, why did you not give up your—your 'guardian,' Totski, without all that theatrical posturing?' said Aglaya, suddenly a propos of nothing.

'What do you know of my position, that you dare to judge me?' cried Nastasia, quivering with rage, and growing ter- ribly white.

'I know this much, that you did not go out to honest work, but went away with a rich man, Rogojin, in order to pose as

The Idiot

a fallen angel. I don't wonder that Totski was nearly driven to suicide by such a fallen angel.'

'Silence!' cried Nastasia Philipovna. 'You are about as fit to understand me as the housemaid here, who bore witness against her lover in court the other day. She would under- stand me better than you do.'

'Probably an honest girl living by her own toil. Why do you speak of a housemaid so contemptuously?'

'I do not despise toil; I despise you when you speak of toil.'

'If you had cared to be an honest woman, you would have gone out as a laundress.'

Both had risen, and were gazing at one another with pal- lid faces.

'Aglaya, don't! This is unfair,' cried the prince, deeply dis- tressed.

Rogojin was not smiling now; he sat and listened with folded arms, and lips tight compressed.

'There, look at her,' cried Nastasia, trembling with pas- sion. 'Look at this young lady! And I imagined her an angel! Did you come to me without your governess, Aglaya Iva- novna? Oh, fie, now shall I just tell you why you came here today? Shall I tell you without any embellishments? You came because you were afraid of me!'

'Afraid of YOU?' asked Aglaya, beside herself with naive amazement that the other should dare talk to her like this.

'Yes, me, of course! Of course you were afraid of me, or you would not have decided to come. You cannot despise one you fear. And to think that I have actually esteemed you

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up to this very moment! Do you know why you are afraid of me, and what is your object now? You wished to satisfy yourself with your own eyes as to which he loves best, my- self or you, because you are fearfully jealous.'

'He has told me already that he hates you,' murmured Aglaya, scarcely audibly.

'Perhaps, perhaps! I am not worthy of him, I know. But I think you are lying, all the same. He cannot hate me, and he cannot have said so. I am ready to forgive you, in con- sideration of your position; but I confess I thought better of you. I thought you were wiser, and more beautiful, too; I did, indeed! Well, take your treasure! See, he is gazing at you, he can't recollect himself. Take him, but on one condition; go away at once, this instant!'

She fell back into a chair, and burst into tears. But sud- denly some new expression blazed in her eyes. She stared fixedly at Aglaya, and rose from her seat.

'Or would you like me to bid him, BID HIM, do you hear, COMMAND HIM, now, at once, to throw you up, and re- main mine for ever? Shall I? He will stay, and he will marry me too, and you shall trot home all alone. Shall I?—shall I say the word?' she screamed like a madwoman, scarcely believing herself that she could really pronounce such wild words.

Aglaya had made for the door in terror, but she stopped at the threshold, and listened. 'Shall I turn Rogojin off? Ha! ha! you thought I would marry him for your benefit, did you? Why, I'll call out NOW, if you like, in your presence,

'Rogojin, get out!' and say to the prince, 'Do you remember The Idiot

what you promised me?' Heavens! what a fool I have been to humiliate myself before them! Why, prince, you yourself gave me your word that you would marry me whatever hap- pened, and would never abandon me. You said you loved me and would forgive me all, and—and resp—yes, you even said that! I only ran away from you in order to set you free, and now I don't care to let you go again. Why does she treat me so— so shamefully? I am not a loose woman—ask Rogojin there! He'll tell you. Will you go again now that she has insulted me, before your eyes, too; turn away from me and lead her away, arm-in-arm? May you be accursed too, for you were the only one I trusted among them all! Go away, Rogojin, I don't want you,' she continued, blind with fury, and forcing the words out with dry lips and distorted features, evidently not believing a single word of her own tirade, but, at the same time, doing her utmost to prolong the moment of self-deception.

The outburst was so terribly violent that the prince thought it would have killed her.

'There he is!' she shrieked again, pointing to the prince and addressing Aglaya. 'There he is! and if he does not ap- proach me at once and take ME and throw you over, then have him for your own—I give him up to you! I don't want him!'

Both she and Aglaya stood and waited as though in ex- pectation, and both looked at the prince like madwomen.

But he, perhaps, did not understand the full force of this challenge; in fact, it is certain he did not. All he could see was the poor despairing face which, as he had said to Agla-

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ya, 'had pierced his heart for ever.'

He could bear it no longer, and with a look of entreaty,

mingled with reproach, he addressed Aglaya, pointing to Nastasia the while:

'How can you?' he murmured; 'she is so unhappy.'

But he had no time to say another word before. Aglaya's

terrible look bereft him of speech. In that look was embod- ied so dreadful a suffering and so deadly a hatred, that he gave a cry and flew to her; but it was too late.

She could not hold out long enough even to witness his movement in her direction. She had hidden her face in her hands, cried once ' Oh, my God!' and rushed out of the room. Rogojin followed her to undo the bolts of the door and let her out into the street.

The prince made a rush after her, but he, was caught and held back. The distorted, livid face of Nastasia gazed at him reproachfully, and her blue lips whispered:

'What? Would you go to her—to her?'

She fell senseless into his arms.

He raised her, carried her into the room, placed her in an

armchair, and stood over her, stupefied. On the table stood a tumbler of water. Rogojin, who now returned, took this and sprinkled a little in her face. She opened her eyes, but for a moment she understood nothing.

Suddenly she looked around, shuddered, gave a loud cry, and threw herself in the prince's arms.

'Mine, mine!' she cried. 'Has the proud young lady gone? Ha, ha, ha!' she laughed hysterically. 'And I had given him up to her! Why—why did I? Mad—mad! Get away, Rogojin!

The Idiot

Ha, ha, ha!'

Rogojin stared intently at them; then he took his hat, and

without a word, left the room.

A few moments later, the prince was seated by Nasta-

sia on the sofa, gazing into her eyes and stroking her face and hair, as he would a little child's. He laughed when she laughed, and was ready to cry when she cried. He did not speak, but listened to her excited, disconnected chatter, hardly understanding a word of it the while. No sooner did he detect the slightest appearance of complaining, or weep- ing, or reproaching, than he would smile at her kindly, and begin stroking her hair and her cheeks, soothing and con- soling her once more, as if she were a child.

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IX

AFORTNIGHT had passed since the events recorded in the last chapter, and the position of the actors in our story had become so changed that it is almost impossible

for us to continue the tale without some few explanations. Yet we feel that we ought to limit ourselves to the simple record of facts, without much attempt at explanation, for a very patent reason: because we ourselves have the greatest

possible difficulty in accounting for the facts to be record- ed. Such a statement on our part may appear strange to the reader. How is anyone to tell a story which he cannot un- derstand himself? In order to keep clear of a false position, we had perhaps better give an example of what we mean; and probably the intelligent reader will soon understand the difficulty. More especially are we inclined to take this course since the example will constitute a distinct march forward of our story, and will not hinder the progress of the events remaining to be recorded.

During the next fortnight—that is, through the early part of July—the history of our hero was circulated in the form of strange, diverting, most unlikely-sounding stories, which passed from mouth to mouth, through the streets and villas adjoining those inhabited by Lebedeff, Ptitsin, Nastasia Philipovna and the Epanchins; in fact, pretty well through the whole town and its environs. All society—both

The Idiot

the inhabitants of the place and those who came down of an evening for the music—had got hold of one and the same story, in a thousand varieties of detail—as to how a cer- tain young prince had raised a terrible scandal in a most respectable household, had thrown over a daughter of the family, to whom he was engaged, and had been captured by a woman of shady reputation whom he was determined to marry at once— breaking off all old ties for the satisfaction of his insane idea; and, in spite of the public indignation roused by his action, the marriage was to take place in Pav- lofsk openly and publicly, and the prince had announced his intention of going through with it with head erect and looking the whole world in the face. The story was so artful- ly adorned with scandalous details, and persons of so great eminence and importance were apparently mixed up in it, while, at the same time, the evidence was so circumstantial, that it was no wonder the matter gave food for plenty of cu- riosity and gossip.

According to the reports of the most talented gossip- mongers— those who, in every class of society, are always in haste to explain every event to their neighbours—the young gentleman concerned was of good family—a prince—fairly rich—weak of intellect, but a democrat and a dabbler in the Nihilism of the period, as exposed by Mr. Turgenieff. He could hardly talk Russian, but had fallen in love with one of the Miss Epanchins, and his suit met with so much en- couragement that he had been received in the house as the recognized bridegroom-to-be of the young lady. But like the Frenchman of whom the story is told that he studied

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for holy orders, took all the oaths, was ordained priest, and next morning wrote to his bishop informing him that, as he did not believe in God and considered it wrong to de- ceive the people and live upon their pockets, he begged to surrender the orders conferred upon him the day before, and to inform his lordship that he was sending this letter to the public press,— like this Frenchman, the prince played a false game. It was rumoured that he had purposely wait- ed for the solemn occasion of a large evening party at the house of his future bride, at which he was introduced to sev- eral eminent persons, in order publicly to make known his ideas and opinions, and thereby insult the 'big-wigs,' and to throw over his bride as offensively as possible; and that, re- sisting the servants who were told off to turn him out of the house, he had seized and thrown down a magnificent china vase. As a characteristic addition to the above, it was cur- rently reported that the young prince really loved the lady to whom he was engaged, and had thrown her over out of purely Nihilistic motives, with the intention of giving him- self the satisfaction of marrying a fallen woman in the face of all the world, thereby publishing his opinion that there is no distinction between virtuous and disreputable women, but that all women are alike, free; and a 'fallen' woman, in- deed, somewhat superior to a virtuous one.

It was declared that he believed in no classes or anything else, excepting 'the woman question.'

All this looked likely enough, and was accepted as fact by most of the inhabitants of the place, especially as it was borne out, more or less, by daily occurrences.

The Idiot

Of course much was said that could not be determined absolutely. For instance, it was reported that the poor girl had so loved her future husband that she had followed him to the house of the other woman, the day after she had been thrown over; others said that he had insisted on her coming, himself, in order to shame and insult her by his taunts and Nihilistic confessions when she reached the house. Howev- er all these things might be, the public interest in the matter grew daily, especially as it became clear that the scandalous wedding was undoubtedly to take place.

So that if our readers were to ask an explanation, not of the wild reports about the prince's Nihilistic opinions, but simply as to how such a marriage could possibly satisfy his real aspirations, or as to the spiritual condition of our hero at this time, we confess that we should have great difficulty in giving the required information.

All we know is, that the marriage really was arranged, and that the prince had commissioned Lebedeff and Keller to look after all the necessary business connected with it; that he had requested them to spare no expense; that Nas- tasia herself was hurrying on the wedding; that Keller was to be the prince's best man, at his own earnest request; and that Burdovsky was to give Nastasia away, to his great de- light. The wedding was to take place before the middle of July.

But, besides the above, we are cognizant of certain other undoubted facts, which puzzle us a good deal because they seem flatly to contradict the foregoing.

We suspect, for instance, that having commissioned Free eBooks at Planet

Lebedeff and the others, as above, the prince immediately forgot all about masters of ceremonies and even the cere- mony itself; and we feel quite certain that in making these arrangements he did so in order that he might absolutely escape all thought of the wedding, and even forget its ap- proach if he could, by detailing all business concerning it to others.

What did he think of all this time, then? What did he wish for? There is no doubt that he was a perfectly free agent all through, and that as far as Nastasia was concerned, there was no force of any kind brought to bear on him. Nastasia wished for a speedy marriage, true!—but the prince agreed at once to her proposals; he agreed, in fact, so casually that anyone might suppose he was but acceding to the most sim- ple and ordinary suggestion.

There are many strange circumstances such as this be- fore us; but in our opinion they do but deepen the mystery, and do not in the smallest degree help us to understand the case.

However, let us take one more example. Thus, we know for a fact that during the whole of this fortnight the prince spent all his days and evenings with Nastasia; he walked with her, drove with her; he began to be restless whenever he passed an hour without seeing her—in fact, to all ap- pearances, he sincerely loved her. He would listen to her for hours at a time with a quiet smile on his face, scarcely say- ing a word himself. And yet we know, equally certainly, that during this period he several times set off, suddenly, to the Epanchins', not concealing the fact from Nastasia Philipov-

The Idiot

na, and driving the latter to absolute despair. We know also that he was not received at the Epanchins' so long as they remained at Pavlofsk, and that he was not allowed an in- terview with Aglaya;—but next day he would set off once more on the same errand, apparently quite oblivious of the fact of yesterday's visit having been a failure,—and, of course, meeting with another refusal. We know, too, that exactly an hour after Aglaya had fled from Nastasia Phili- povna's house on that fateful evening, the prince was at the Epanchins',—and that his appearance there had been the cause of the greatest consternation and dismay; for Aglaya had not been home, and the family only discovered then, for the first time, that the two of them had been to Nasta- sia's house together.

It was said that Elizabetha Prokofievna and her daugh- ters had there and then denounced the prince in the strongest terms, and had refused any further acquaintance and friendship with him; their rage and denunciations be- ing redoubled when Varia Ardalionovna suddenly arrived and stated that Aglaya had been at her house in a terrible state of mind for the last hour, and that she refused to come home.

This last item of news, which disturbed Lizabetha Pro- kofievna more than anything else, was perfectly true. On leaving Nastasia's, Aglaya had felt that she would rather die than face her people, and had therefore gone straight to Nina Alexandrovna's. On receiving the news, Lizabetha and her daughters and the general all rushed off to Aglaya, followed by Prince Lef Nicolaievitch—undeterred by his

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recent dismissal; but through Varia he was refused a sight of Aglaya here also. The end of the episode was that when Aglaya saw her mother and sisters crying over her and not uttering a word of reproach, she had flung herself into their

arms and gone straight home with them.

It was said that Gania managed to make a fool of him-

self even on this occasion; for, finding himself alone with Aglaya for a minute or two when Varia had gone to the Ep- anchins', he had thought it a fitting opportunity to make a declaration of his love, and on hearing this Aglaya, in spite of her state of mind at the time, had suddenly burst out laughing, and had put a strange question to him. She asked him whether he would consent to hold his finger to a lighted candle in proof of his devotion! Gania—it was said—looked so comically bewildered that Aglaya had almost laughed herself into hysterics, and had rushed out of the room and

upstairs,—where her parents had found her.

Hippolyte told the prince this last story, sending for him

on purpose. When Muishkin heard about the candle and Gania's finger he had laughed so that he had quite aston- ished Hippolyte,—and then shuddered and burst into tears. The prince's condition during those days was strange and perturbed. Hippolyte plainly declared that he thought he was out of his mind;—this, however, was hardly to be re- lied upon.

Offering all these facts to our readers and refusing to ex- plain them, we do not for a moment desire to justify our hero's conduct. On the contrary, we are quite prepared to feel our share of the indignation which his behaviour aroused

The Idiot

in the hearts of his friends. Even Vera Lebedeff was angry with him for a while; so was Colia; so was Keller, until he was selected for best man; so was Lebedeff himself,—who began to intrigue against him out of pure irritation;—but of this anon. In fact we are in full accord with certain forcible words spoken to the prince by Evgenie Pavlovitch, quite un- ceremoniously, during the course of a friendly conversation, six or seven days after the events at Nastasia Philipovna's house.

We may remark here that not only the Epanchins them- selves, but all who had anything to do with them, thought it right to break with the prince in consequence of his con- duct. Prince S. even went so far as to turn away and cut him dead in the street. But Evgenie Pavlovitch was not afraid to compromise himself by paying the prince a visit, and did so, in spite of the fact that he had recommenced to visit at the Epanchins', where he was received with redoubled hospital- ity and kindness after the temporary estrangement.

Evgenie called upon the prince the day after that on which the Epanchins left Pavlofsk. He knew of all the cur- rent rumours,—in fact, he had probably contributed to them himself. The prince was delighted to see him, and im- mediately began to speak of the Epanchins;—which simple and straightforward opening quite took Evgenie's fancy, so that he melted at once, and plunged in medias res without ceremony.

The prince did not know, up to this, that the Epanchins had left the place. He grew very pale on hearing the news; but a moment later he nodded his head, and said thought-

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fully:

'I knew it was bound to be so.' Then he added quickly: 'Where have they gone to?'

Evgenie meanwhile observed him attentively, and the rapidity of the questions, their, simplicity, the prince's candour, and at the same time, his evident perplexity and mental agitation, surprised him considerably. However, he told Muishkin all he could, kindly and in detail. The prince hardly knew anything, for this was the first informant from the household whom he had met since the estrangement.

Evgenie reported that Aglaya had been really ill, and that for two nights she had not slept at all, owing to high fever; that now she was better and out of serious danger, but still in a nervous, hysterical state.

'It's a good thing that there is peace in the house, at all events,' he continued. 'They never utter a hint about the past, not only in Aglaya's presence, but even among themselves.

The old people are talking of a trip abroad in the autumn, immediately after Adelaida's wedding; Aglaya received the news in silence.'

Evgenie himself was very likely going abroad also; so were Prince S. and his wife, if affairs allowed of it; the gen- eral was to stay at home. They were all at their estate of Colmina now, about twenty miles or so from St. Petersburg. Princess Bielokonski had not returned to Moscow yet, and was apparently staying on for reasons of her own. Lizabetha Prokofievna had insisted that it was quite impossible to re- main in Pavlofsk after what had happened. Evgenie had told her of all the rumours current in town about the affair; so

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that there could be no talk of their going to their house on the Yelagin as yet.

'And in point of fact, prince,' added Evgenie Pavlov- itch, 'you must allow that they could hardly have stayed here, considering that they knew of all that went on at your place, and in the face of your daily visits to their house, vis- its which you insisted upon making in spite of their refusal to see you.'

'Yes—yes, quite so; you are quite right. I wished to see Aglaya Ivanovna, you know!' said the prince, nodding his

head.

'Oh, my dear fellow,' cried Evgenie, warmly, with real

sorrow in his voice, 'how could you permit all that to come about as it has? Of course, of course, I know it was all so unexpected. I admit that you, only naturally, lost your head, and—and could not stop the foolish girl; that was not in your power. I quite see so much; but you really should have understood how seriously she cared for you. She could not bear to share you with another; and you could bring your- self to throw away and shatter such a treasure! Oh, prince, prince!'

'Yes, yes, you are quite right again,' said the poor prince, in anguish of mind. 'I was wrong, I know. But it was only Aglaya who looked on Nastasia Philipovna so; no one else

did, you know.'

'But that's just the worst of it all, don't you see, that there

was absolutely nothing serious about the matter in reality!' cried Evgenie, beside himself: 'Excuse me, prince, but I have thought over all this; I have thought a great deal over it;

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I know all that had happened before; I know all that took place six months since; and I know there was NOTHING serious about the matter, it was but fancy, smoke, fantasy, distorted by agitation, and only the alarmed jealousy of an absolutely inexperienced girl could possibly have mistaken it for serious reality.'

Here Evgenie Pavlovitch quite let himself go, and gave the reins to his indignation.

Clearly and reasonably, and with great psychological in- sight, he drew a picture of the prince's past relations with Nastasia Philipovna. Evgenie Pavlovitch always had a ready tongue, but on this occasion his eloquence, surprised him- self. 'From the very beginning,' he said, 'you began with a lie; what began with a lie was bound to end with a lie; such is the law of nature. I do not agree, in fact I am angry, when I hear you called an idiot; you are far too intelligent to de- serve such an epithet; but you are so far STRANGE as to be unlike others; that you must allow, yourself. Now, I have come to the conclusion that the basis of all that has hap- pened, has been first of all your innate inexperience (remark the expression 'innate,' prince). Then follows your unheard- of simplicity of heart; then comes your absolute want of sense of proportion (to this want you have several times confessed); and lastly, a mass, an accumulation, of intellec- tual convictions which you, in your unexampled honesty of soul, accept unquestionably as also innate and natural and true. Admit, prince, that in your relations with Nastasia Philipovna there has existed, from the very first, something democratic, and the fascination, so to speak, of the 'woman

The Idiot

question'? I know all about that scandalous scene at Nasta- sia Philipovna's house when Rogojin brought the money, six months ago. I'll show you yourself as in a looking-glass, if you like. I know exactly all that went on, in every detail, and why things have turned out as they have. You thirsted, while in Switzerland, for your home-country, for Russia; you read, doubtless, many books about Russia, excellent books, I dare say, but hurtful to YOU; and you arrived here; as it were, on fire with the longing to be of service. Then, on the very day of your arrival, they tell you a sad story of an illused wom- an; they tell YOU, a knight, pure and without reproach, this tale of a poor woman! The same day you actually SEE her; you are attracted by her beauty, her fantastic, almost demo- niacal, beauty—(I admit her beauty, of course).

'Add to all this your nervous nature, your epilepsy, and your sudden arrival in a strange town—the day of meetings and of exciting scenes, the day of unexpected acquaintance- ships, the day of sudden actions, the day of meeting with the three lovely Epanchin girls, and among them Aglaya— add your fatigue, your excitement; add Nastasia' s evening party, and the tone of that party, and—what were you to ex- pect of yourself at such a moment as that?'

'Yes, yes, yes!' said the prince, once more, nodding his head, and blushing slightly. 'Yes, it was so, or nearly so—I know it. And besides, you see, I had not slept the night be- fore, in the train, or the night before that, either, and I was very tired.'

'Of course, of course, quite so; that's what I am driving at!' continued Evgenie, excitedly. 'It is as clear as possible, and

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most comprehensible, that you, in your enthusiasm, should plunge headlong into the first chance that came of publicly airing your great idea that you, a prince, and a pure-living man, did not consider a woman disgraced if the sin were not her own, but that of a disgusting social libertine! Oh, heavens! it's comprehensible enough, my dear prince, but that is not the question, unfortunately! The question is, was there any reality and truth in your feelings? Was it nature, or nothing but intellectual enthusiasm? What do you think yourself? We are told, of course, that a far worse woman was FORGIVEN, but we don't find that she was told that she had done well, or that she was worthy of honour and respect! Did not your common-sense show you what was the real state of the case, a few months later? The question is now, not whether she is an innocent woman (I do not insist one way or the other—I do not wish to); but can her whole career justify such intolerable pride, such insolent, rapacious egotism as she has shown? Forgive me, I am too violent, perhaps, but—'

'Yes—I dare say it is all as you say; I dare say you are quite right,' muttered the prince once more. 'She is very sensitive and easily put out, of course; but still, she...'

'She is worthy of sympathy? Is that what you wished to say, my good fellow? But then, for the mere sake of vindi- cating her worthiness of sympathy, you should not have insulted and offended a noble and generous girl in her pres- ence! This is a terrible exaggeration of sympathy! How can you love a girl, and yet so humiliate her as to throw her over for the sake of another woman, before the very eyes of that

The Idiot

other woman, when you have already made her a formal proposal of marriage? And you DID propose to her, you know; you did so before her parents and sisters. Can you be an honest man, prince, if you act so? I ask you! And did you not deceive that beautiful girl when you assured her of your love?'

'Yes, you are quite right. Oh! I feel that I am very guilty!' said Muishkin, in deepest distress.

'But as if that is enough!' cried Evgenie, indignantly. 'As if it is enough simply to say: 'I know I am very guilty!' You are to blame, and yet you persevere in evil-doing. Where was your heart, I should like to know, your CHRISTIAN HEART, all that time? Did she look as though she were suffering less, at that moment? You saw her face—was she suffering less than the other woman? How could you see her suffering and allow it to continue? How could you?'

'But I did not allow it,' murmured the wretched prince. 'How—what do you mean you didn't allow?'

'Upon my word, I didn't! To this moment I don't know

how it all happened. I—I ran after Aglaya Ivanovna, but Nastasia Philipovna fell down in a faint; and since that day they won't let me see Aglaya—that's all I know.'

'It's all the same; you ought to have run after Aglaya though the other was fainting.'

'Yes, yes, I ought—but I couldn't! She would have died— she would have killed herself. You don't know her; and I should have told Aglaya everything afterwards—but I see, Evgenie Pavlovitch, you don't know all. Tell me now, why am I not allowed to see Aglaya? I should have cleared it all

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up, you know. Neither of them kept to the real point, you see. I could never explain what I mean to you, but I think I could to Aglaya. Oh! my God, my God! You spoke just now of Aglaya's face at the moment when she ran away. Oh, my God! I remember it! Come along, come along— quick!' He pulled at Evgenie's coat-sleeve nervously and excitedly, and rose from his chair.

'Where to?'

'Come to Aglaya—quick, quick!'

'But I told you she is not at Pavlofsk. And what would be

the use if she were?'

'Oh, she'll understand, she'll understand!' cried the

prince, clasping his hands. 'She would understand that all this is not the point—not a bit the real point—it is quite for- eign to the real question.'

'How can it be foreign? You ARE going to be married, are you not? Very well, then you are persisting in your course. ARE you going to marry her or not?'

'Yes, I shall marry her—yes.'

'Then why is it 'not the point'?'

'Oh, no, it is not the point, not a bit. It makes no differ-

ence, my marrying her—it means nothing.'

'How 'means nothing'? You are talking nonsense, my

friend. You are marrying the woman you love in order to secure her happiness, and Aglaya sees and knows it. How can you say that it's 'not the point'?'

'Her happiness? Oh, no! I am only marrying her—well, because she wished it. It means nothing—it's all the same. She would certainly have died. I see now that that marriage

The Idiot

with Rogojin was an insane idea. I understand all now that I did not understand before; and, do you know, when those two stood opposite to one another, I could not bear Nasta- sia Philipovna's face! You must know, Evgenie Pavlovitch, I have never told anyone before—not even Aglaya—that I can- not bear Nastasia Philipovna's face.' (He lowered his voice mysteriously as he said this.) You described that evening at Nastasia Philipovna's (six months since) very accurately just now; but there is one thing which you did not men- tion, and of which you took no account, because you do not know. I mean her FACE—I looked at her face, you see. Even in the morning when I saw her portrait, I felt that I could not BEAR to look at it. Now, there's Vera Lebedeff, for in- stance, her eyes are quite different, you know. I'm AFRAID of her face!' he added, with real alarm.

'You are AFRAID of it?'

'Yes—she's mad!' he whispered, growing pale.

'Do you know this for certain?' asked Evgenie, with the

greatest curiosity.

'Yes, for certain—quite for certain, now! I have discov-

ered it ABSOLUTELY for certain, these last few days.' 'What are you doing, then?' cried Evgenie, in horror. 'You must be marrying her solely out of FEAR, then! I can't

make head or tail of it, prince. Perhaps you don't even love her?'

'Oh, no; I love her with all my soul. Why, she is a child! She's a child now—a real child. Oh! you know nothing about it at all, I see.'

'And are you assured, at the same time, that you love Free eBooks at Planet

Aglaya too?'

'Yes—yes—oh; yes!'

'How so? Do you want to make out that you love them

BOTH?'

'Yes—yes—both! I do!'

'Excuse me, prince, but think what you are saying! Rec-

ollect yourself!'

'Without Aglaya—I—I MUST see Aglaya!—I shall die in

my sleep very soon—I thought I was dying in my sleep last night. Oh! if Aglaya only knew all—I mean really, REALLY all! Because she must know ALL—that's the first condi- tion towards understanding. Why cannot we ever know all about another, especially when that other has been guilty? But I don't know what I'm talking about—I'm so confused.

You pained me so dreadfully. Surely—surely Aglaya has not the same expression now as she had at the moment when she ran away? Oh, yes! I am guilty and I know it—I know it! Probably I am in fault all round—I don't quite know how—but I am in fault, no doubt. There is something else, but I cannot explain it to you, Evgenie Pavlovitch. I have no words; but Aglaya will understand. I have always believed

Aglaya will understand—I am assured she will.'

'No, prince, she will not. Aglaya loved like a woman, like a human being, not like an abstract spirit. Do you know what, my poor prince? The most probable explanation of the matter is that you never loved either the one or the other

in reality.'

'I don't know—perhaps you are right in much that you

have said, Evgenie Pavlovitch. You are very wise, Evgenie The Idiot

Pavlovitch—oh! how my head is beginning to ache again! Come to her, quick—for God's sake, come!'

'But I tell you she is not in Pavlofsk! She's in Colmina.' 'Oh, come to Colmina, then! Come—let us go at once!' 'No—no, impossible!' said Evgenie, rising.

'Look here—I'll write a letter—take a letter for me!' 'No—no, prince; you must forgive me, but I can't under-

take any such commissions! I really can't.'

And so they parted.

Evgenie Pavlovitch left the house with strange convic-

tions. He, too, felt that the prince must be out of his mind. 'And what did he mean by that FACE—a face which he so fears, and yet so loves? And meanwhile he really may die, as he says, without seeing Aglaya, and she will never know how devotedly he loves her! Ha, ha, ha! How does the fellow manage to love two of them? Two different kinds of love, I suppose! This is very interesting—poor idiot! What

on earth will become of him now?'

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X

THE prince did not die before his wedding—either by day or night, as he had foretold that he might. Very prob- ably he passed disturbed nights, and was afflicted with bad

dreams; but, during the daytime, among his fellow-men, he seemed as kind as ever, and even contented; only a little thoughtful when alone.

The wedding was hurried on. The day was fixed for ex- actly a week after Evgenie's visit to the prince. In the face of such haste as this, even the prince's best friends (if he had had any) would have felt the hopelessness of any attempt to save' the poor madman.' Rumour said that in the visit of Evgenie Pavlovitch was to be discerned the influence of Lizabetha Prokofievna and her husband... But if those good souls, in the boundless kindness of their hearts, were de- sirous of saving the eccentric young fellow from ruin, they were unable to take any stronger measures to attain that end. Neither their position, nor their private inclination, perhaps (and only naturally), would allow them to use any more pronounced means.

We have observed before that even some of the prince's nearest neighbours had begun to oppose him. Vera Lebe- deff's passive disagreement was limited to the shedding of a few solitary tears; to more frequent sitting alone at home, and to a diminished frequency in her visits to the prince's

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apartments.

Colia was occupied with his father at this time. The old

man died during a second stroke, which took place just eight days after the first. The prince showed great sympathy in the grief of the family, and during the first days of their mourning he was at the house a great deal with Nina Al- exandrovna. He went to the funeral, and it was observable that the public assembled in church greeted his arrival and departure with whisperings, and watched him closely.

The same thing happened in the park and in the street, wherever he went. He was pointed out when he drove by, and he often overheard the name of Nastasia Philipovna coupled with his own as he passed. People looked out for her at the funeral, too, but she was not there; and another conspicuous absentee was the captain's widow, whom Leb- edeff had prevented from coming.

The funeral service produced a great effect on the prince. He whispered to Lebedeff that this was the first time he had ever heard a Russian funeral service since he was a little boy. Observing that he was looking about him uneasily, Lebe- deff asked him whom he was seeking.

'Nothing. I only thought I—' 'Is it Rogojin?'

'Why—is he here?'

'Yes, he's in church.'

'I thought I caught sight of his eyes!' muttered the prince, in confusion. 'But what of it!—Why is he here? Was he asked?'

'Oh, dear, no! Why, they don't even know him! Anyone Free eBooks at Planet

can come in, you know. Why do you look so amazed? I often meet him; I've seen him at least four times, here at Pavlofsk, within the last week.'

'I haven't seen him once—since that day!' the prince murmured.

As Nastasia Philipovna had not said a word about having met Rogojin since 'that day,' the prince concluded that the latter had his own reasons for wishing to keep out of sight.

All the day of the funeral our hero, was in a deeply thought- ful state, while Nastasia Philipovna was particularly merry, both in the daytime and in the evening.

Colia had made it up with the prince before his father's death, and it was he who urged him to make use of Keller and Burdovsky, promising to answer himself for the for- mer's behaviour. Nina Alexandrovna and Lebedeff tried to persuade him to have the wedding in St. Petersburg, instead of in the public fashion contemplated, down here at Pav- lofsk in the height of the season. But the prince only said that Nastasia Philipovna desired to have it so, though he saw well enough what prompted their arguments.

The next day Keller came to visit the prince. He was in a high state of delight with the post of honour assigned to him at the wedding.

Before entering he stopped on the threshold, raised his hand as if making a solemn vow, and cried:

'I won't drink!'

Then he went up to the prince, seized both his hands, shook them warmly, and declared that he had at first felt hostile towards the project of this marriage, and had openly

The Idiot

said so in the billiard-rooms, but that the reason simply was that, with the impatience of a friend, he had hoped to see the prince marry at least a Princess de Rohan or de Chabot; but that now he saw that the prince's way of thinking was ten times more noble than that of 'all the rest put togeth- er.' For he desired neither pomp nor wealth nor honour, but only the truth! The sympathies of exalted personages were well known, and the prince was too highly placed by his education, and so on, not to be in some sense an exalted personage!

'But all the common herd judge 'differently; in the town, at the meetings, in the villas, at the band, in the inns and the billiard-rooms, the coming event has only to be mentioned and there are shouts and cries from everybody. I have even heard talk of getting up a 'charivari' under the windows on the weddingnight. So if 'you have need of the pistol' of an honest man, prince, I am ready to fire half a dozen shots even before you rise from your nuptial couch!'

Keller also advised, in anticipation of the crowd making a rush after the ceremony, that a fire-hose should be placed at the entrance to the house; but Lebedeff was opposed to this measure, which he said might result in the place being pulled down.

'I assure you, prince, that Lebedeff is intriguing against you. He wants to put you under control. Imagine that! To take 'from you the use of your free-will and your mon- ey—that' is to say, the two things that distinguish us from the animals! I have heard it said positively. It is the sober truth.'

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The prince recollected that somebody had told him some- thing of the kind before, and he had, of course, scoffed at it. He only laughed now, and forgot the hint at once.

Lebedeff really had been busy for some little while; but, as usual, his plans had become too complex to suc- ceed, through sheer excess of ardour. When he came to the prince—the very day before the wedding—to confess (for he always confessed to the persons against whom he in- trigued, especially when the plan failed), he informed our hero that he himself was a born Talleyrand, but for some unknown reason had become simple Lebedeff. He then pro- ceeded to explain his whole game to the prince, interesting the latter exceedingly.

According to Lebedeff's account, he had first tried what he could do with General Epanchin. The latter informed him that he wished well to the unfortunate young man, and would gladly do what he could to 'save him,' but that he did not think it would be seemly for him to interfere in this matter. Lizabetha Prokofievna would neither hear nor see him. Prince S. and Evgenie Pavlovitch only shrugged their shoulders, and implied that it was no business of theirs. However, Lebedeff had not lost heart, and went off to a clever lawyer,—a worthy and respectable man, whom he knew well. This old gentleman informed him that the thing was perfectly feasible if he could get hold of competent wit- nesses as to Muishkin's mental incapacity. Then, with the assistance of a few influential persons, he would soon see the matter arranged.

Lebedeff immediately procured the services of an old The Idiot

doctor, and carried the latter away to Pavlofsk to see the prince, by way of viewing the ground, as it were, and to give him (Lebedeff) counsel as to whether the thing was to be done or not. The visit was not to be official, but merely friendly.

Muishkin remembered the doctor's visit quite well. He remembered that Lebedeff had said that he looked ill, and had better see a doctor; and although the prince scouted the idea, Lebedeff had turned up almost immediately with his old friend, explaining that they had just met at the bed- side of Hippolyte, who was very ill, and that the doctor had something to tell the prince about the sick man.

The prince had, of course, at once received him, and had plunged into a conversation about Hippolyte. He had giv- en the doctor an account of Hippolyte's attempted suicide; and had proceeded thereafter to talk of his own malady,— of Switzerland, of Schneider, and so on; and so deeply was the old man interested by the prince's conversation and his description of Schneider's system, that he sat on for two hours.

Muishkin gave him excellent cigars to smoke, and Leb- edeff, for his part, regaled him with liqueurs, brought in by Vera, to whom the doctor—a married man and the father of a family—addressed such compliments that she was filled with indignation. They parted friends, and, after leaving the prince, the doctor said to Lebedeff: 'If all such people were

put under restraint, there would be no one left for keepers.' Lebedeff then, in tragic tones, told of the approaching mar- riage, whereupon the other nodded his head and replied

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that, after all, marriages like that were not so rare; that he had heard that the lady was very fascinating and of extraor- dinary beauty, which was enough to explain the infatuation of a wealthy man; that, further, thanks to the liberality of Totski and of Rogojin, she possessed—so he had heard—not only money, but pearls, diamonds, shawls, and furniture, and consequently she could not be considered a bad match. In brief, it seemed to the doctor that the prince's choice, far from being a sign of foolishness, denoted, on the contrary, a shrewd, calculating, and practical mind. Lebedeff had been much struck by this point of view, and he terminated his confession by assuring the prince that he was ready, if need be, to shed his very life's blood for him.

Hippolyte, too, was a source of some distraction to the prince at this time; he would send for him at any and ev- ery hour of the day. They lived,—Hippolyte and his mother and the children,—in a small house not far off, and the little ones were happy, if only because they were able to escape from the invalid into the garden. The prince had enough to do in keeping the peace between the irritable Hippolyte and his mother, and eventually the former became so malicious and sarcastic on the subject of the approaching wedding, that Muishkin took offence at last, and refused to continue his visits.

A couple of days later, however, Hippolyte's mother came with tears in her eyes, and begged the prince to come back,

'or HE would eat her up bodily.' She added that Hippolyte had a great secret to disclose. Of course the prince went. There was no secret, however, unless we reckon certain

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pantings and agitated glances around (probably all put on) as the invalid begged his visitor to 'beware of Rogojin.'

'He is the sort of man,' he continued,. 'who won't give up his object, you know; he is not like you and me, prince—he belongs to quite a different order of beings. If he sets his heart on a thing he won't be afraid of anything—' and so on.

Hippolyte was very ill, and looked as though he could not long survive. He was tearful at first, but grew more and more sarcastic and malicious as the interview proceeded.

The prince questioned him in detail as to his hints about Rogojin. He was anxious to seize upon some facts which might confirm Hippolyte's vague warnings; but there were none; only Hippolyte's own private impressions and feel- ings.

However, the invalid—to his immense satisfaction— ended by seriously alarming the prince.

At first Muishkin had not cared to make any reply to his sundry questions, and only smiled in response to Hip- polyte's advice to 'run for his life—abroad, if necessary.

There are Russian priests everywhere, and one can get mar- ried all over the world.'

But it was Hippolyte's last idea which upset him.

'What I am really alarmed about, though,' he said, 'is Aglaya Ivanovna. Rogojin knows how you love her. Love for

love. You took Nastasia Philipovna from him. He will mur- der Aglaya Ivanovna; for though she is not yours, of course, now, still such an act would pain you,—wouldn't it?'

He had attained his end. The prince left the house beside Free eBooks at Planet

himself with terror.

These warnings about Rogojin were expressed on the day

before the wedding. That evening the prince saw Nastasia Philipovna for the last time before they were to meet at the altar; but Nastasia was not in a position to give him any comfort or consolation. On the contrary, she only added to his mental perturbation as the evening went on. Up to this time she had invariably done her best to cheer him—she was afraid of his looking melancholy; she would try singing to him, and telling him every sort of funny story or rem- iniscence that she could recall. The prince nearly always pretended to be amused, whether he were so actually or no; but often enough he laughed sincerely, delighted by the bril- liancy of her wit when she was carried away by her narrative, as she very often was. Nastasia would be wild with joy to see the impression she had made, and to hear his laugh of real amusement; and she would remain the whole evening in a state of pride and happiness. But this evening her melan- choly and thoughtfulness grew with every hour.

The prince had told Evgenie Pavlovitch with perfect sin- cerity that he loved Nastasia Philipovna with all his soul. In his love for her there was the sort of tenderness one feels for a sick, unhappy child which cannot be left alone. He never spoke of his feelings for Nastasia to anyone, not even to herself. When they were together they never discussed their 'feelings,' and there was nothing in their cheerful, ani- mated conversation which an outsider could not have heard. Daria Alexeyevna, with whom Nastasia was staying, told af- terwards how she had been filled with joy and delight only

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to look at them, all this time.

Thanks to the manner in which he regarded Nastasia's

mental and moral condition, the prince was to some extent freed from other perplexities. She was now quite different from the woman he had known three months before. He was not astonished, for instance, to see her now so impa- tient to marry him—she who formerly had wept with rage and hurled curses and reproaches at him if he mentioned marriage! 'It shows that she no longer fears, as she did then, that she would make me unhappy by marrying me,' he thought. And he felt sure that so sudden a change could not be a natural one. This rapid growth of self-confidence could not be due only to her hatred for Aglaya. To suppose that would be to suspect the depth of her feelings. Nor could it arise from dread of the fate that awaited her if she married Rogojin. These causes, indeed, as well as others, might have played a part in it, but the true reason, Muishkin decided, was the one he had long suspected—that the poor sick soul had come to the end of its forces. Yet this was an explana- tion that did not procure him any peace of mind. At times he seemed to be making violent efforts to think of nothing, and one would have said that he looked on his marriage as an unimportant formality, and on his future happiness as a thing not worth considering. As to conversations such as the one held with Evgenie Pavlovitch, he avoided them as far as possible, feeling that there were certain objections to which he could make no answer.

The prince had observed that Nastasia knew well enough what Aglaya was to him. He never spoke of it, but he had

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seen her face when she had caught him starting off for the Epanchins' house on several occasions. When the Ep- anchins left Pavlofsk, she had beamed with radiance and happiness. Unsuspicious and unobservant as he was, he had feared at that time that Nastasia might have some scheme in her mind for a scene or scandal which would drive Agla- ya out of Pavlofsk. She had encouraged the rumours and excitement among the inhabitants of the place as to her marriage with the prince, in order to annoy her rival; and, finding it difficult to meet the Epanchins anywhere, she had, on one occasion, taken him for a drive past their house. He did not observe what was happening until they were almost passing the windows, when it was too late to do anything. He said nothing, but for two days afterwards he was ill.

Nastasia did not try that particular experiment again. A few days before that fixed for the wedding, she grew grave and thoughtful. She always ended by getting the better of her melancholy, and becoming merry and cheerful again, but not quite so unaffectedly happy as she had been some days earlier.

The prince redoubled his attentive study of her symp- toms. It was a most curious circumstance, in his opinion, that she never spoke of Rogojin. But once, about five days before the wedding, when the prince was at home, a mes- senger arrived begging him to come at once, as Nastasia Philipovna was very ill.

He had found her in a condition approaching to abso- lute madness. She screamed, and trembled, and cried out that Rogojin was hiding out there in the garden—that she

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had seen him herself—and that he would murder her in the night—that he would cut her throat. She was terribly agi- tated all day. But it so happened that the prince called at Hippolyte's house later on, and heard from his mother that she had been in town all day, and had there received a visit from Rogojin, who had made inquiries about Pavlofsk. On inquiry, it turned out that Rogojin visited the old lady in town at almost the same moment when Nastasia declared that she had seen him in the garden; so that the whole thing turned out to be an illusion on her part. Nastasia immedi- ately went across to Hippolyte's to inquire more accurately, and returned immensely relieved and comforted.

On the day before the wedding, the prince left Nasta- sia in a state of great animation. Her wedding-dress and all sorts of finery had just arrived from town. Muishkin had not imagined that she would be so excited over it, but he praised everything, and his praise rendered her doubly hap- py.

But Nastasia could not hide the cause of her intense interest in her wedding splendour. She had heard of the in- dignation in the town, and knew that some of the populace was getting up a sort of charivari with music, that verses had been composed for the occasion, and that the rest of Pavlofsk society more or less encouraged these prepara- tions. So, since attempts were being made to humiliate her, she wanted to hold her head even higher than usual, and to overwhelm them all with the beauty and taste of her toilette.

'Let them shout and whistle, if they dare!' Her eyes flashed at the thought. But, underneath this, she had another mo-

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tive, of which she did not speak. She thought that possibly Aglaya, or at any rate someone sent by her, would be present incognito at the ceremony, or in the crowd, and she wished

to be prepared for this eventuality.

The prince left her at eleven, full of these thoughts, and

went home. But it was not twelve o'clock when a messenger came to say that Nastasia was very bad, and he must come at once.

On hurrying back he found his bride locked up in her own room and could hear her hysterical cries and sobs. It was some time before she could be made to hear that the prince had come, and then she opened the door only just sufficiently to let him in, and immediately locked it behind him. She then fell on her knees at his feet. (So at least Dana

Alexeyevna reported.)

'What am I doing? What am I doing to you?' she sobbed

convulsively, embracing his knees.

The prince was a whole hour soothing and comfort-

ing her, and left her, at length, pacified and composed. He sent another messenger during the night to inquire after her, and two more next morning. The last brought back a message that Nastasia was surrounded by a whole army of dressmakers and maids, and was as happy and as busy as such a beauty should be on her wedding morning, and that there was not a vestige of yesterday's agitation remaining. The message concluded with the news that at the moment of the bearer's departure there was a great confabulation in progress as to which diamonds were to be worn, and how.

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This message entirely calmed the prince's mind.

The following report of the proceedings on the wedding day may be depended upon, as coming from eye-witnesses. The wedding was fixed for eight o'clock in the evening. Nastasia Philipovna was ready at seven. From six o'clock groups of people began to gather at Nastasia's house, at the prince's, and at the church door, but more especially at the

former place. The church began to fill at seven.

Colia and Vera Lebedeff were very anxious on the

prince's account, but they were so busy over the arrange- ments for receiving the guests after the wedding, that they had not much time for the indulgence of personal feelings.

There were to be very few guests besides the best men and so on; only Dana Alexeyevna, the Ptitsins, Gania, and the doctor. When the prince asked Lebedeff why he had invited the doctor, who was almost a stranger, Lebedeff replied:

'Why, he wears an 'order,' and it looks so well!'

This idea amused the prince.

Keller and Burdovsky looked wonderfully correct in their

dresscoats and white kid gloves, although Keller caused the bridegroom some alarm by his undisguisedly hostile glanc- es at the gathering crowd of sight-seers outside.

At about half-past seven the prince started for the church in his carriage.

We may remark here that he seemed anxious not to omit a single one of the recognized customs and traditions ob- served at weddings. He wished all to be done as openly as possible, and 'in due order.'

Arrived at the church, Muishkin, under Keller's guidance, passed through the crowd of spectators, amid continuous

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whispering and excited exclamations. The prince stayed near the altar, while Keller made off once more to fetch the bride.

On reaching the gate of Daria Alexeyevna's house, Keller found a far denser crowd than he had encountered at the prince's. The remarks and exclamations of the spectators here were of so irritating a nature that Keller was very near making them a speech on the impropriety of their conduct, but was luckily caught by Burdovsky, in the act of turning to address them, and hurried indoors.

Nastasia Philipovna was ready. She rose from her seat, looked into the glass and remarked, as Keller told the tale afterwards, that she was 'as pale as a corpse.' She then bent her head reverently, before the ikon in the corner, and left the room.

A torrent of voices greeted her appearance at the front door. The crowd whistled, clapped its hands, and laughed and shouted; but in a moment or two isolated voices were distinguishable.

'What a beauty!' cried one.

'Well, she isn't the first in the world, nor the last,' said another.

'Marriage covers everything,' observed a third.

'I defy you to find another beauty like that,' said a fourth.

'She's a real princess! I'd sell my soul for such a princess as that!'

Nastasia came out of the house looking as white as any handkerchief; but her large dark eyes shone upon the vul-

The Idiot

gar crowd like blazing coals. The spectators' cries were redoubled, and became more exultant and triumphant ev- ery moment. The door of the carriage was open, and Keller had given his hand to the bride to help her in, when sud- denly with a loud cry she rushed from him, straight into the surging crowd. Her friends about her were stupefied with amazement; the crowd parted as she rushed through it, and suddenly, at a distance of five or six yards from the carriage, appeared Rogojin. It was his look that had caught her eyes.

Nastasia rushed to him like a madwoman, and seized both his hands.

'Save me!' she cried. 'Take me away, anywhere you like, quick!'

Rogojin seized her in his arms and almost carried her to the carriage. Then, in a flash, he tore a hundred-rouble note out of his pocket and held it to the coachman.

'To the station, quick! If you catch the train you shall have another. Quick!'

He leaped into the carriage after Nastasia and banged the door. The coachman did not hesitate a moment; he whipped up the horses, and they were oft.

'One more second and I should have stopped him,' said Keller, afterwards. In fact, he and Burdovsky jumped into another carriage and set off in pursuit; but it struck them as they drove along that it was not much use trying to bring Nastasia back by force.

'Besides,' said Burdovsky,' the prince would not like it, would he?' So they gave up the pursuit.

Rogojin and Nastasia Philipovna reached the station just Free eBooks at Planet

in time for the train. As he jumped out of the carriage and was almost on the point of entering the train, Rogojin ac- costed a young girl standing on the platform and wearing an old-fashioned, but respectable-looking, black cloak and a silk handkerchief over her head.

'Take fifty roubles for your cloak?' he shouted, hold- ing the money out to the girl. Before the astonished young woman could collect her scattered senses, he pushed the money into her hand, seized the mantle, and threw it and the handkerchief over Nastasia's head and shoulders. The latter's wedding-array would have attracted too much at- tention, and it was not until some time later that the girl understood why her old cloak and kerchief had been bought at such a price.

The news of what had happened reached the church with extraordinary rapidity. When Keller arrived, a host of peo- ple whom he did not know thronged around to ask him questions. There was much excited talking, and shaking of heads, even some laughter; but no one left the church, all be- ing anxious to observe how the now celebrated bridegroom would take the news. He grew very pale upon hearing it, but took it quite quietly.

'I was afraid,' he muttered, scarcely audibly, 'but I hardly thought it would come to this.' Then after a short silence, he added: 'However, in her state, it is quite consistent with the natural order of things.'

Even Keller admitted afterwards that this was 'extraor- dinarily philosophical' on the prince's part. He left the church quite calm, to all appearances, as many witness-

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es were found to declare afterwards. He seemed anxious to reach home and be left alone as quickly as possible; but this was not to be. He was accompanied by nearly all the invited guests, and besides this, the house was almost be- sieged by excited bands of people, who insisted upon being allowed to enter the verandah. The prince heard Keller and Lebedeff remonstrating and quarrelling with these unknown individuals, and soon went out himself. He ap- proached the disturbers of his peace, requested courteously to be told what was desired; then politely putting Lebedeff and Keller aside, he addressed an old gentleman who was standing on the verandah steps at the head of the band of would-be guests, and courteously requested him to honour him with a visit. The old fellow was quite taken aback by this, but entered, followed by a few more, who tried to ap- pear at their ease. The rest remained outside, and presently the whole crowd was censuring those who had accepted the invitation. The prince offered seats to his strange visi- tors, tea was served, and a general conversation sprang up. Everything was done most decorously, to the consid- erable surprise of the intruders. A few tentative attempts were made to turn the conversation to the events of the day, and a few indiscreet questions were asked; but Muishkin re- plied to everybody with such simplicity and good-humour, and at the same time with so much dignity, and showed such confidence in the good breeding of his guests, that the indiscreet talkers were quickly silenced. By degrees the con- versation became almost serious. One gentleman suddenly exclaimed, with great vehemence: 'Whatever happens, I

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shall not sell my property; I shall wait. Enterprise is better than money, and there, sir, you have my whole system of economy, if you wish!' He addressed the prince, who warm- ly commended his sentiments, though Lebedeff whispered in his ear that this gentleman, who talked so much of his

'property,' had never had either house or home.

Nearly an hour passed thus, and when tea was over the visitors seemed to think that it was time to go. As they

went out, the doctor and the old gentleman bade Muish- kin a warm farewell, and all the rest took their leave with hearty protestations of goodwill, dropping remarks to the effect that 'it was no use worrying,' and that 'perhaps all would turn out for the best,' and so on. Some of the younger intruders would have asked for champagne, but they were checked by the older ones. When all had departed, Keller leaned over to Lebedeff, and said:

'With you and me there would have been a scene. We should have shouted and fought, and called in the po- lice. But he has simply made some new friends—and such friends, too! I know them!'

Lebedeff, who was slightly intoxicated, answered with a sigh:

'Things are hidden from the wise and prudent, and re- vealed unto babes. I have applied those words to him before, but now I add that God has preserved the babe himself from the abyss, He and all His saints.'

At last, about half-past ten, the prince was left alone. His head ached. Colia was the last to go, after having helped him to change his wedding clothes. They parted on affec-

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tionate terms, and, without speaking of what had happened, Colia promised to come very early the next day. He said lat- er that the prince had given no hint of his intentions when they said good-bye, but had hidden them even from him. Soon there was hardly anyone left in the house. Burdovsky had gone to see Hippolyte; Keller and Lebedeff had wan- dered off together somewhere.

Only Vera Lebedeff remained hurriedly rearranging the furniture in the rooms. As she left the verandah, she glanced at the prince. He was seated at the table, with both elbows upon it, and his head resting on his hands. She ap- proached him, and touched his shoulder gently. The prince started and looked at her in perplexity; he seemed to be collecting his senses for a minute or so, before he could re- member where he was. As recollection dawned upon him, he became violently agitated. All he did, however, was to ask Vera very earnestly to knock at his door and awake him in time for the first train to Petersburg next morning. Vera promised, and the prince entreated her not to tell anyone of his intention. She promised this, too; and at last, when she had half-closed the door, be called her back a third time, took her hands in his, kissed them, then kissed her forehead, and in a rather peculiar manner said to her, 'Until tomor- row!'

Such was Vera's story afterwards.

She went away in great anxiety about him, but when she saw him in the morning, he seemed to be quite himself again, greeted her with a smile, and told her that he would very likely be back by the evening. It appears that he did not

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consider it necessary to inform anyone excepting Vera of his departure for town.

The Idiot

XI

AN hour later he was in St. Petersburg, and by ten o'clock he had rung the bell at Rogojin's.

He had gone to the front door, and was kept waiting a

long while before anyone came. At last the door of old Mrs. Rogojin's flat was opened, and an aged servant appeared.

'Parfen Semionovitch is not at home,' she announced from the doorway. 'Whom do you want?'

'Parfen Semionovitch.'

'He is not in.'

The old woman examined the prince from head to foot

with great curiosity.

'At all events tell me whether he slept at home last night,

and whether he came alone?'

The old woman continued to stare at him, but said noth-

ing.

'Was not Nastasia Philipovna here with him, yesterday

evening?'

'And, pray, who are you yourself?'

'Prince Lef Nicolaievitch Muishkin; he knows me well.' 'He is not at home.'

The woman lowered her eyes.

'And Nastasia Philipovna?'

'I know nothing about it.'

'Stop a minute! When will he come back?'

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'I don't know that either.'

The door was shut with these words, and the old woman disappeared. The prince decided to come back within an hour. Passing out of the house, he met the porter.

'Is Parfen Semionovitch at home?' he asked.

'Yes.'

'Why did they tell me he was not at home, then?' 'Where

did they tell you so,—at his door?' 'No, at his mother's flat; I rang at Parfen Semionovitch's door and nobody came.'

'Well, he may have gone out. I can't tell. Sometimes he takes the keys with him, and leaves the rooms empty for two or three days.'

'Do you know for certain that he was at home last night?' 'Yes, he was.'

'Was Nastasia Philipovna with him?'

'I don't know; she doesn't come often. I think I should

have known if she had come.'

The prince went out deep in thought, and walked up

and down the pavement for some time. The windows of all the rooms occupied by Rogojin were closed, those of his mother's apartments were open. It was a hot, bright day. The prince crossed the road in order to have a good look at the windows again; not only were Rogojin's closed, but the white blinds were all down as well.

He stood there for a minute and then, suddenly and strangely enough, it seemed to him that a little corner of one of the blinds was lifted, and Rogojin's face appeared for an instant and then vanished. He waited another minute, and decided to go and ring the bell once more; however, he

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thought better of it again and put it off for an hour.

The chief object in his mind at this moment was to get as quickly as he could to Nastasia Philipovna's lodging. He

remembered that, not long since, when she had left Pav- lofsk at his request, he had begged her to put up in town at the house of a respectable widow, who had well-furnished rooms to let, near the Ismailofsky barracks. Probably Nas- tasia had kept the rooms when she came down to Pavlofsk this last time; and most likely she would have spent the night in them, Rogojin having taken her straight there from the station.

The prince took a droshky. It struck him as he drove on that he ought to have begun by coming here, since it was most improbable that Rogojin should have taken Nastasia to his own house last night. He remembered that the porter said she very rarely came at all, so that it was still less likely that she would have gone there so late at night.

Vainly trying to comfort himself with these reflections, the prince reached the Ismailofsky barracks more dead than alive.

To his consternation the good people at the lodgings had not only heard nothing of Nastasia, but all came out to look at him as if he were a marvel of some sort. The whole family, of all ages, surrounded him, and he was begged to enter. He guessed at once that they knew perfectly well who he was, and that yesterday ought to have been his wedding-day; and further that they were dying to ask about the wedding, and especially about why he should be here now, inquiring for the woman who in all reasonable human probability might

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have been expected to be with him in Pavlofsk.

He satisfied their curiosity, in as few words as possible, with regard to the wedding, but their exclamations and

sighs were so numerous and sincere that he was obliged to tell the whole story— in a short form, of course. The advice of all these agitated ladies was that the prince should go at once and knock at Rogojin's until he was let in: and when let in insist upon a substantial explanation of everything. If Rogojin was really not at home, the prince was advised to go to a certain house, the address of which was given, where lived a German lady, a friend of Nastasia Philipovna's. It was possible that she might have spent the night there in her anxiety to conceal herself.

The prince rose from his seat in a condition of men- tal collapse. The good ladies reported afterwards that 'his pallor was terrible to see, and his legs seemed to give way underneath him.' With difficulty he was made to under- stand that his new friends would be glad of his address, in order to act with him if possible. After a moment's thought he gave the address of the small hotel, on the stairs of which he had had a fit some five weeks since. He then set off once more for Rogojin's.

This time they neither opened the door at Rogojin's flat nor at the one opposite. The prince found the porter with difficulty, but when found, the man would hardly look at him or answer his questions, pretending to be busy. Even- tually, however, he was persuaded to reply so far as to state that Rogojin had left the house early in the morning and gone to Pavlofsk, and that he would not return today at all.

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'I shall wait; he may come back this evening.' 'He may not be home for a week.'

'Then, at all events, he DID sleep here, did he?' 'Well—he did sleep here, yes.'

All this was suspicious and unsatisfactory. Very likely the porter had received new instructions during the inter- val of the prince's absence; his manner was so different now. He had been obliging—now he was as obstinate and silent as a mule. However, the prince decided to call again in a couple of hours, and after that to watch the house, in case of need. His hope was that he might yet find Nastasia at the address which he had just received. To that address he now set off at full speed.

But alas! at the German lady's house they did not even appear to understand what he wanted. After a while, by means of certain hints, he was able to gather that Nasta- sia must have had a quarrel with her friend two or three weeks ago, since which date the latter had neither heard nor seen anything of her. He was given to understand that the subject of Nastasia's present whereabouts was not of the slightest interest to her; and that Nastasia might marry all the princes in the world for all she cared! So Muishkin took his leave hurriedly. It struck him now that she might have gone away to Moscow just as she had done the last time, and that Rogojin had perhaps gone after her, or even WITH her. If only he could find some trace!

However, he must take his room at the hotel; and he start- ed off in that direction. Having engaged his room, he was asked by the waiter whether he would take dinner; replying

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mechanically in the affirmative, he sat down and waited; but it was not long before it struck him that dining would delay him. Enraged at this idea, he started up, crossed the dark passage (which filled him with horrible impressions and gloomy forebodings), and set out once more for Rogo- jin's. Rogojin had not returned, and no one came to the door. He rang at the old lady's door opposite, and was informed that Parfen Semionovitch would not return for three days. The curiosity with which the old servant stared at him again impressed the prince disagreeably. He could not find the porter this time at all.

As before, he crossed the street and watched the win- dows from the other side, walking up and down in anguish of soul for half an hour or so in the stifling heat. Nothing stirred; the blinds were motionless; indeed, the prince be- gan to think that the apparition of Rogojin's face could have been nothing but fancy. Soothed by this thought, he drove off once more to his friends at the Ismailofsky barracks. He was expected there. The mother had already been to three or four places to look for Nastasia, but had not found a trace of any kind.

The prince said nothing, but entered the room, sat down silently, and stared at them, one after the other, with the air of a man who cannot understand what is being said to him. It was strange— one moment he seemed to be so obser- vant, the next so absent; his behaviour struck all the family as most remarkable. At length he rose from his seat, and begged to be shown Nastasia's rooms. The ladies reported afterwards how he had examined everything in the apart-

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ments. He observed an open book on the table, Madam Bovary, and requested the leave of the lady of the house to take it with him. He had turned down the leaf at the open page, and pocketed it before they could explain that it was a library book. He had then seated himself by the open win- dow, and seeing a card-table, he asked who played cards.

He was informed that Nastasia used to play with Rogojin every evening, either at 'preference' or 'little fool,' or 'whist"; that this had been their practice since her last return from Pavlofsk; that she had taken to this amusement because she did not like to see Rogojin sitting silent and dull for whole evenings at a time; that the day after Nastasia had made a remark to this effect, Rogojin had whipped a pack of cards out of his pocket. Nastasia had laughed, but soon they be- gan playing. The prince asked where were the cards, but was told that Rogojin used to bring a new pack every day, and always carried it away in his pocket.

The good ladies recommended the prince to try knock- ing at Rogojin's once more—not at once, but in the evening Meanwhile, the mother would go to Pavlofsk to inquire at Dana Alexeyevna's whether anything had been heard of Nastasia there. The prince was to come back at ten o'clock and meet her, to hear her news and arrange plans for the morrow.

In spite of the kindly-meant consolations of his new friends, the prince walked to his hotel in inexpressible an- guish of spirit, through the hot, dusty streets, aimlessly staring at the faces of those who passed him. Arrived at his destination, he determined to rest awhile in his room be-

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fore be started for Rogojin's once more. He sat down, rested his elbows on the table and his head on his hands, and fell to thinking.

Heaven knows how long and upon what subjects he thought. He thought of many things—of Vera Lebedeff, and of her father; of Hippolyte; of Rogojin himself, first at the funeral, then as he had met him in the park, then, suddenly, as they had met in this very passage, outside, when Rogojin had watched in the darkness and awaited him with uplifted knife. The prince remembered his enemy's eyes as they had glared at him in the darkness. He shuddered, as a sudden idea struck him.

This idea was, that if Rogojin were in Petersburg, though he might hide for a time, yet he was quite sure to come to him—the prince—before long, with either good or evil in- tentions, but probably with the same intention as on that other occasion. At all events, if Rogojin were to come at all he would be sure to seek the prince here—he had no other town address—perhaps in this same corridor; he might well seek him here if he needed him. And perhaps he did need him. This idea seemed quite natural to the prince, though he could not have explained why he should so suddenly have become necessary to Rogojin. Rogojin would not come if all were well with him, that was part of the thought; he would come if all were not well; and certainly, undoubtedly, all would not be well with him. The prince could not bear this new idea; he took his hat and rushed out towards the street. It was almost dark in the passage.

'What if he were to come out of that corner as I go by The Idiot

and—and stop me?' thought the prince, as he approached the familiar spot. But no one came out.

He passed under the gateway and into the street. The crowds of people walking about—as is always the case at sunset in Petersburg, during the summer—surprised him, but he walked on in the direction of Rogojin's house.

About fifty yards from the hotel, at the first cross-road, as he passed through the crowd of foot-passengers sauntering along, someone touched his shoulder, and said in a whisper into his ear:

'Lef Nicolaievitch, my friend, come along with me.' It was Rogojin.

The prince immediately began to tell him, eagerly and joyfully, how he had but the moment before expected to see him in the dark passage of the hotel.

'I was there,' said Rogojin, unexpectedly. 'Come along.' The prince was surprised at this answer; but his astonish-

ment increased a couple of minutes afterwards, when he began to consider it. Having thought it over, he glanced at Rogojin in alarm. The latter was striding along a yard or so ahead, looking straight in front of him, and mechanically making way for anyone he met.

'Why did you not ask for me at my room if you were in the hotel?' asked the prince, suddenly.

Rogojin stopped and looked at him; then reflected, and replied as though he had not heard the question:

'Look here, Lef Nicolaievitch, you go straight on to the house; I shall walk on the other side. See that we keep to- gether.'

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So saying, Rogojin crossed the road.

Arrived on the opposite pavement, he looked back to see

whether the prince were moving, waved his hand in the di- rection of the Gorohovaya, and strode on, looking across every moment to see whether Muishkin understood his instructions. The prince supposed that Rogojin desired to look out for someone whom he was afraid to miss; but if so, why had he not told HIM whom to look out for? So the two proceeded for half a mile or so. Suddenly the prince began to tremble from some unknown cause. He could not bear it, and signalled to Rogojin across the road.

The latter came at once.

'Is Nastasia Philipovna at your house?'

'Yes.'

'And was it you looked out of the window under the blind

this morning?' 'Yes.'

'Then why did—'

But the prince could not finish his question; he did not

know what to say. Besides this, his heart was beating so that he found it difficult to speak at all. Rogojin was silent also and looked at him as before, with an expression of deep thoughtfulness.

'Well, I'm going,' he said, at last, preparing to recross the road. 'You go along here as before; we will keep to different sides of the road; it's better so, you'll see.'

When they reached the Gorohovaya, and came near the house, the prince's legs were trembling so that he could hardly walk. It was about ten o'clock. The old lady's win-

The Idiot

dows were open, as before; Rogojin's were all shut, and in the darkness the white blinds showed whiter than ever. Rogojin and the prince each approached the house on his respective side of the road; Rogojin, who was on the near side, beck- oned the prince across. He went over to the doorway.

'Even the porter does not know that I have come home now. I told him, and told them at my mother's too, that I was off to Pavlofsk,' said Rogojin, with a cunning and al- most satisfied smile. 'We'll go in quietly and nobody will hear us.'

He had the key in his hand. Mounting the staircase he turned and signalled to the prince to go more softly; he opened the door very quietly, let the prince in, followed him, locked the door behind him, and put the key in his pocket.

'Come along,' he whispered.

He had spoken in a whisper all the way. In spite of his

apparent outward composure, he was evidently in a state of great mental agitation. Arrived in a large salon, next to the study, he went to the window and cautiously beckoned the prince up to him.

'When you rang the bell this morning I thought it must be you. I went to the door on tip-toe and heard you talking to the servant opposite. I had told her before that if any- one came and rang— especially you, and I gave her your name—she was not to tell about me. Then I thought, what if he goes and stands opposite and looks up, or waits about to watch the house? So I came to this very window, looked out, and there you were staring straight at me. That's how it came about.'

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'Where is Nastasia Philipovna?' asked the prince, breath- lessly.

'She's here,' replied Rogojin, slowly, after a slight pause. 'Where?'

Rogojin raised his eyes and gazed intently at the prince. 'Come,' he said.

He continued to speak in a whisper, very deliberately as before, and looked strangely thoughtful and dreamy. Even while he told the story of how he had peeped through the blind, he gave the impression of wishing to say something else. They entered the study. In this room some changes had taken place since the prince last saw it. It was now divided into two equal parts by a heavy green silk curtain stretched across it, separating the alcove beyond, where stood Rogo- jin's bed, from the rest of the room.

The heavy curtain was drawn now, and it was very dark. The bright Petersburg summer nights were already begin-

ning to close in, and but for the full moon, it would have been difficult to distinguish anything in Rogojin's dismal room, with the drawn blinds. They could just see one an- others faces, however, though not in detail. Rogojin's face was white, as usual. His glittering eyes watched the prince with an intent stare.

'Had you not better light a candle?' said Muishkin.

'No, I needn't,' replied Rogojin, and taking the oth- er by the hand he drew him down to a chair. He himself took a chair opposite and drew it up so close that he almost pressed against the prince's knees. At their side was a little round table.

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Sit down,' said Rogojin; 'let's rest a bit.' There was silence for a moment.

'I knew you would be at that hotel,' he continued, just as men sometimes commence a serious conversation by dis- cussing any outside subject before leading up to the main point. 'As I entered the passage it struck me that perhaps you were sitting and waiting for me, just as I was waiting for you. Have you been to the old lady at Ismailofsky bar- racks?'

'Yes,' said the prince, squeezing the word out with diffi- culty owing to the dreadful beating of his heart.

'I thought you would. 'They'll talk about it,' I thought; so I determined to go and fetch you to spend the night here—

'We will be together,' I thought, 'for this one night—'' 'Rogojin, WHERE is Nastasia Philipovna?' said the prince, suddenly rising from his seat. He was quaking in all

his limbs, and his words came in a scarcely audible whisper. Rogojin rose also.

'There,' he whispered, nodding his head towards the cur- tain.

'Asleep?' whispered the prince.

Rogojin looked intently at him again, as before.

'Let's go in—but you mustn't—well—let's go in.'

He lifted the curtain, paused—and turned to the prince. 'Go in,' he said, motioning him to pass behind the curtain.

Muishkin went in.

It's so dark,' he said.

'You can see quite enough,' muttered Rogojin. 'I can just see there's a bed—'

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'Go nearer,' suggested Rogojin, softly.

The prince took a step forward—then another—and paused. He stood and stared for a minute or two.

Neither of the men spoke a word while at the bedside. The prince's heart beat so loud that its knocking seemed to

be distinctly audible in the deathly silence.

But now his eyes had become so far accustomed to the

darkness that he could distinguish the whole of the bed. Someone was asleep upon it—in an absolutely motionless sleep. Not the slightest movement was perceptible, not the faintest breathing could be heard. The sleeper was covered with a white sheet; the outline of the limbs was hardly dis- tinguishable. He could only just make out that a human being lay outstretched there.

All around, on the bed, on a chair beside it, on the floor, were scattered the different portions of a magnificent white silk dress, bits of lace, ribbons and flowers. On a small table at the bedside glittered a mass of diamonds, torn off and thrown down anyhow. From under a heap of lace at the end of the bed peeped a small white foot, which looked as though it had been chiselled out of marble; it was terribly still.

The prince gazed and gazed, and felt that the more he gazed the more death-like became the silence. Suddenly a fly awoke somewhere, buzzed across the room, and settled on the pillow. The prince shuddered.

'Let's go,' said Rogojin, touching his shoulder. They left the alcove and sat down in the two chairs they had occupied before, opposite to one another. The prince trembled more

The Idiot

and more violently, and never took his questioning eyes off Rogojin's face.

'I see you are shuddering, Lef Nicolaievitch,' said the lat- ter, at length, 'almost as you did once in Moscow, before your fit; don't you remember? I don't know what I shall do with you—'

The prince bent forward to listen, putting all the strain he could muster upon his understanding in order to take in what Rogojin said, and continuing to gaze at the latter's face.

'Was it you?' he muttered, at last, motioning with his head towards the curtain.

'Yes, it was I,' whispered Rogojin, looking down. Neither spoke for five minutes.

'Because, you know,' Rogojin recommenced, as though continuing a former sentence, 'if you were ill now, or had a fit, or screamed, or anything, they might hear it in the yard, or even in the street, and guess that someone was passing the night in the house. They would all come and knock and want to come in, because they know I am not at home. I didn't light a candle for the same reason. When I am not here—for two or three days at a time, now and then—no one comes in to tidy the house or anything; those are my orders. So that I want them to not know we are spending the night here—'

'Wait,' interrupted the prince. 'I asked both the porter and the woman whether Nastasia Philipovna had spent last night in the house; so they knew—'

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ten minutes, and then gone straight back to Pavlofsk. No one knows she slept here. Last night we came in just as care- fully as you and I did today. I thought as I came along with her that she would not like to creep in so secretly, but I was quite wrong. She whispered, and walked on tip-toe; she car- ried her skirt over her arm, so that it shouldn't rustle, and she held up her finger at me on the stairs, so that I shouldn't make a noise—it was you she was afraid of. She was mad with terror in the train, and she begged me to bring her to this house. I thought of taking her to her rooms at the Is- mailofsky barracks first; but she wouldn't hear of it. She said, 'No—not there; he'll find me out at once there. Take me to your own house, where you can hide me, and tomor- row we'll set off for Moscow.' Thence she would go to Orel, she said. When she went to bed, she was still talking about going to Orel.'

'Wait! What do you intend to do now, Parfen?'

'Well, I'm afraid of you. You shudder and tremble so. We'll pass the night here together. There are no other beds besides that one; but I've thought how we'll manage. I'll take the cushions off all the sofas, and lay them down on the floor, up against the curtain here—for you and me—so that we shall be together. For if they come in and look about now, you know, they'll find her, and carry her away, and they'll be asking me questions, and I shall say I did it, and then they'll take me away, too, don't you see? So let her lie close to us—close to you and me.

'Yes, yes,' agreed the prince, warmly.

'So we will not say anything about it, or let them take

The Idiot

her away?'

'Not for anything!' cried the other; 'no, no, no!'

'So I had decided, my friend; not to give her up to anyone,'

continued Rogojin. 'We'll be very quiet. I have only been out of the house one hour all day, all the rest of the time I have been with her. I dare say the air is very bad here. It is so hot. Do you find it bad?'

'I don't know—perhaps—by morning it will be.'

'I've covered her with oil-cloth—best American oilcloth, and put the sheet over that, and four jars of disinfectant, on account of the smell—as they did at Moscow—you remem- ber? And she's lying so still; you shall see, in the morning, when it's light. What! can't you get up?' asked Rogojin, see- ing the other was trembling so that he could not rise from his seat.

'My legs won't move,' said the prince; 'it's fear, I know. When my fear is over, I'll get up—'

'Wait a bit—I'll make the bed, and you can lie down. I'll lie down, too, and we'll listen and watch, for I don't know yet what I shall do... I tell you beforehand, so that you may be ready in case I—'

Muttering these disconnected words, Rogojin began to make up the beds. It was clear that he had devised these beds long before; last night he slept on the sofa. But there was no room for two on the sofa, and he seemed anxious that he and the prince should be close to one another; there- fore, he now dragged cushions of all sizes and shapes from the sofas, and made a sort of bed of them close by the cur- tain. He then approached the prince, and gently helped him

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to rise, and led him towards the bed. But the prince could now walk by himself, so that his fear must have passed; for all that, however, he continued to shudder.

'It's hot weather, you see,' continued Rogojin, as he lay down on the cushions beside Muishkin, 'and, naturally, there will be a smell. I daren't open the window. My moth- er has some beautiful flowers in pots; they have a delicious scent; I thought of fetching them in, but that old servant will find out, she's very inquisitive.

'Yes, she is inquisitive,' assented the prince.

'I thought of buying flowers, and putting them all round her; but I was afraid it would make us sad to see her with flowers round her.'

'Look here,' said the prince; he was bewildered, and his brain wandered. He seemed to be continually groping for the questions he wished to ask, and then losing them. 'Lis- ten—tell me—how did you—with a knife?—That same one?'

'Yes, that same one.'

'Wait a minute, I want to ask you something else, Parfen; all sorts of things; but tell me first, did you intend to kill her before my wedding, at the church door, with your knife?'

'I don't know whether I did or not,' said Rogojin, drily, seeming to be a little astonished at the question, and not quite taking it in.

'Did you never take your knife to Pavlofsk with you?' 'No. As to the knife,' he added, 'this is all I can tell you about it.' He was silent for a moment, and then said, 'I took it out of the locked drawer this morning about three, for it was

The Idiot

in the early morning all this—happened. It has been inside the book ever since—and—and—this is what is such a mar- vel to me, the knife only went in a couple of inches at most, just under her left breast, and there wasn't more than half a tablespoonful of blood altogether, not more.'

'Yes—yes—yes—' The prince jumped up in extraordinary agitation. 'I know, I know, I've read of that sort of thing— it's internal haemorrhage, you know. Sometimes there isn't a drop—if the blow goes straight to the heart—'

'Wait—listen!' cried Rogojin, suddenly, starting up. 'Somebody's walking about, do you hear? In the hall.' Both

sat up to listen.

'I hear,' said the prince in a whisper, his eyes fixed on

Rogojin.

'Footsteps?'

'Yes.'

'Shall we shut the door, and lock it, or not?'

'Yes, lock it.'

They locked the door, and both lay down again. There

was a long silence.

'Yes, by-the-by,' whispered the prince, hurriedly and ex-

citedly as before, as though he had just seized hold of an idea and was afraid of losing it again. 'I—I wanted those cards! They say you played cards with her?'

'Yes, I played with her,' said Rogojin, after a short silence. 'Where are the cards?'

'Here they are,' said Rogojin, after a still longer pause.

He pulled out a pack of cards, wrapped in a bit of pa- per, from his pocket, and handed them to the prince. The

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latter took them, with a sort of perplexity. A new, sad, help- less feeling weighed on his heart; he had suddenly realized that not only at this moment, but for a long while, he had not been saying what he wanted to say, had not been act- ing as he wanted to act; and that these cards which he held in his hand, and which he had been so delighted to have at first, were now of no use—no use... He rose, and wrung his hands. Rogojin lay motionless, and seemed neither to hear nor see his movements; but his eyes blazed in the darkness, and were fixed in a wild stare.

The prince sat down on a chair, and watched him in alarm. Half an hour went by.

Suddenly Rogojin burst into a loud abrupt laugh, as though he had quite forgotten that they must speak in whis- pers.

'That officer, eh!—that young officer—don't you remem- ber that fellow at the band? Eh? Ha, ha, ha! Didn't she whip him smartly, eh?'

The prince jumped up from his seat in renewed terror. When Rogojin quieted down (which he did at once) the prince bent over him, sat down beside him, and with pain- fully beating heart and still more painful breath, watched his face intently. Rogojin never turned his head, and seemed to have forgotten all about him. The prince watched and waited. Time went on—it began to grow light.

Rogojin began to wander—muttering disconnectedly; then he took to shouting and laughing. The prince stretched out a trembling hand and gently stroked his hair and his cheeks—he could do nothing more. His legs trembled again

The Idiot

and he seemed to have lost the use of them. A new sensa- tion came over him, filling his heart and soul with infinite anguish.

Meanwhile the daylight grew full and strong; and at last the prince lay down, as though overcome by despair, and laid his face against the white, motionless face of Rogojin. His tears flowed on to Rogojin's cheek, though he was per- haps not aware of them himself.

At all events when, after many hours, the door was opened and people thronged in, they found the murderer unconscious and in a raging fever. The prince was sitting by him, motionless, and each time that the sick man gave a laugh, or a shout, he hastened to pass his own trembling hand over his companion's hair and cheeks, as though trying to soothe and quiet him. But alas I he understood nothing of what was said to him, and recognized none of those who surrounded him.

If Schneider himself had arrived then and seen his for- mer pupil and patient, remembering the prince's condition during the first year in Switzerland, he would have flung up his hands, despairingly, and cried, as he did then:

'An idiot!'

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XII

WHEN the widow hurried away to Pavlofsk, she went straight to Daria Alexeyevna's house, and telling all she knew, threw her into a state of great alarm. Both ladies

decided to communicate at once with Lebedeff, who, as the friend and landlord of the prince, was also much agitated. Vera Lebedeff told all she knew, and by Lebedeff's advice it was decided that all three should go to Petersburg as quickly

as possible, in order to avert 'what might so easily happen.' This is how it came about that at eleven o'clock next

morning Rogojin's flat was opened by the police in the pres- ence of Lebedeff, the two ladies, and Rogojin's own brother, who lived in the wing.

The evidence of the porter went further than anything else towards the success of Lebedeff in gaining the assis- tance of the police. He declared that he had seen Rogojin return to the house last night, accompanied by a friend, and that both had gone upstairs very secretly and cautiously.

After this there was no hesitation about breaking open the door, since it could not be got open in any other way.

Rogojin suffered from brain fever for two months. When he recovered from the attack he was at once brought up on trial for murder.

He gave full, satisfactory, and direct evidence on ev- ery point; and the prince's name was, thanks to this, not

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brought into the proceedings. Rogojin was very quiet dur- ing the progress of the trial. He did not contradict his clever and eloquent counsel, who argued that the brain fever, or inflammation of the brain, was the cause of the crime; clearly proving that this malady had existed long be- fore the murder was perpetrated, and had been brought on by the sufferings of the accused.

But Rogojin added no words of his own in confirmation of this view, and as before, he recounted with marvellous exactness the details of his crime. He was convicted, but with extenuating circumstances, and condemned to hard labour in Siberia for fifteen years. He heard his sentence grimly, silently, and thoughtfully. His colossal fortune, with the exception of the comparatively small portion wasted in the first wanton period of his inheritance, went to his broth- er, to the great satisfaction of the latter.

The old lady, Rogojin's mother, is still alive, and remem- bers her favourite son Parfen sometimes, but not clearly. God spared her the knowledge of this dreadful calamity which had overtaken her house.

Lebedeff, Keller, Gania, Ptitsin, and many other friends of ours continue to live as before. There is scarcely any change in them, so that there is no need to tell of their sub- sequent doings.

Hippolyte died in great agitation, and rather sooner than he expected, about a fortnight after Nastasia Phiipovna's death. Colia was much affected by these events, and drew nearer to his mother in heart and sympathy. Nina Alex- androvna is anxious, because he is 'thoughtful beyond his

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years,' but he will, we think, make a useful and active man. The prince's further fate was more or less decided by Co-

lia, who selected, out of all the persons he had met during the last six or seven months, Evgenie Pavlovitch, as friend and confidant. To him he made over all that he knew as to the events above recorded, and as to the present condition of the prince. He was not far wrong in his choice. Evgenie Pavlovitch took the deepest interest in the fate of the unfor- tunate 'idiot,' and, thanks to his influence, the prince found himself once more with Dr. Schneider, in Switzerland.

Evgenie Pavlovitch, who went abroad at this time, in- tending to live a long while on the continent, being, as he often said, quite superfluous in Russia, visits his sick friend at Schneider's every few months.

But Dr. Schneider frowns ever more and more and shakes his head; he hints that the brain is fatally injured; he does not as yet declare that his patient is incurable, but he allows himself to express the gravest fears.

Evgenie takes this much to heart, and he has a heart, as is proved by the fact that he receives and even answers letters from Colia. But besides this, another trait in his character has become apparent, and as it is a good trait we will make haste to reveal it. After each visit to Schneider's establish- ment, Evgenie Pavlovitch writes another letter, besides that to Colia, giving the most minute particulars concerning the invalid's condition. In these letters is to be detected, and in each one more than the last, a growing feeling of friendship and sympathy.

The individual who corresponds thus with Evgenie Pav- The Idiot

lovitch, and who engages so much of his attention and respect, is Vera Lebedeff. We have never been able to dis- cover clearly how such relations sprang up. Of course the root of them was in the events which we have already re- corded, and which so filled Vera with grief on the prince's account that she fell seriously ill. But exactly how the ac- quaintance and friendship came about, we cannot say.

We have spoken of these letters chiefly because in them is often to be found some news of the Epanchin family, and of Aglaya in particular. Evgenie Pavlovitch wrote of her from Paris, that after a short and sudden attachment to a certain Polish count, an exile, she had suddenly married him, quite

against the wishes of her parents, though they had eventu- ally given their consent through fear of a terrible scandal. Then, after a six months' silence, Evgenie Pavlovitch in- formed his correspondent, in a long letter, full of detail, that while paying his last visit to Dr. Schneider's establishment, he had there come across the whole Epanchin family (ex- cepting the general, who had remained in St. Petersburg) and Prince S. The meeting was a strange one. They all re- ceived Evgenie Pavlovitch with effusive delight; Adelaida and Alexandra were deeply grateful to him for his 'angelic

kindness to the unhappy prince.'

Lizabetha Prokofievna, when she saw poor Muishkin, in

his enfeebled and humiliated condition, had wept bitterly. Apparently all was forgiven him.

Prince S. had made a few just and sensible remarks. It seemed to Evgenie Pavlovitch that there was not yet perfect harmony between Adelaida and her fiance, but he thought

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that in time the impulsive young girl would let herself be guided by his reason and experience. Besides, the recent events that had befallen her family had given Adelaida much to think about, especially the sad experiences of her younger sister. Within six months, everything that the fam- ily had dreaded from the marriage with the Polish count had come to pass. He turned out to be neither count nor ex- ile—at least, in the political sense of the word—but had had to leave his native land owing to some rather dubious affair of the past. It was his noble patriotism, of which he made a great display, that had rendered him so interesting in Aglaya's eyes. She was so fascinated that, even before mar- rying him, she joined a committee that had been organized abroad to work for the restoration of Poland; and further, she visited the confessional of a celebrated Jesuit priest, who made an absolute fanatic of her. The supposed fortune of the count had dwindled to a mere nothing, although he had given almost irrefutable evidence of its existence to Liza- betha Prokofievna and Prince S.

Besides this, before they had been married half a year, the count and his friend the priest managed to bring about a quarrel between Aglaya and her family, so that it was now several months since they had seen her. In a word, there was a great deal to say; but Mrs. Epanchin, and her daughters, and even Prince S., were still so much distressed by Aglaya's latest infatuations and adventures, that they did hot care to talk of them, though they must have known that Evgenie knew much of the story already.

Poor Lizabetha Prokofievna was most anxious to get The Idiot

home, and, according to Evgenie's account, she criticized everything foreign with much hostility.

'They can't bake bread anywhere, decently; and they all freeze in their houses, during winter, like a lot of mice in a cellar. At all events, I've had a good Russian cry over this poor fellow,' she added, pointing to the prince, who had not recognized her in the slightest degree. 'So enough of this nonsense; it's time we faced the truth. All this continental life, all this Europe of yours, and all the trash about 'go- ing abroad' is simply foolery, and it is mere foolery on our part to come. Remember what I say, my friend; you'll live to agree with me yourself.'

So spoke the good lady, almost angrily, as she took leave of Evgenie Pavlovitch.

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