English
Sohelayaverylongwhile.Nowandthenheseemedtowakeup,andatsuchmomentshenoticedthatitwasfarintothenight,butitdidnotoccurtohimtogetup.
Atlasthenoticedthatitwasbeginningtogetlight.
Hewaslyingonhisback,stilldazedfromhisrecentoblivion.
Fearful,despairingcriesroseshrillyfromthestreet,soundswhichheheardeverynight,indeed,underhiswindowaftertwoo’clock.Theywokehimupnow.
“Ah!thedrunkenmenarecomingoutofthetaverns,”hethought,“it’spasttwoo’clock,”andatonceheleapedup,asthoughsomeonehadpulledhimfromthesofa.
“What!Pasttwoo’clock!”
Hesatdownonthesofa—andinstantlyrecollectedeverything!Allatonce,inoneflash,herecollectedeverything.
Forthefirstmomenthethoughthewasgoingmad.
Adreadfulchillcameoverhim;butthechillwasfromthefeverthathadbegunlongbeforeinhissleep.
Nowhewassuddenlytakenwithviolentshivering,sothathisteethchatteredandallhislimbswereshaking.
Heopenedthedoorandbeganlistening—everythinginthehousewasasleep.
Withamazementhegazedathimselfandeverythingintheroomaroundhim,wonderinghowhecouldhavecomeinthenightbeforewithoutfasteningthedoor,andhaveflunghimselfonthesofawithoutundressing,withouteventakinghishatoff.
Ithadfallenoffandwaslyingonthefloornearhispillow.
“Ifanyonehadcomein,whatwouldhehavethought?ThatI’mdrunkbut…”
Herushedtothewindow.Therewaslightenough,andhebeganhurriedlylookinghimselfalloverfromheadtofoot,allhisclothes;weretherenotraces?
Buttherewasnodoingitlikethat;shiveringwithcold,hebegantakingoffeverythingandlookingoveragain.
Heturnedeverythingovertothelastthreadsandrags,andmistrustinghimself,wentthroughhissearchthreetimes.
Butthereseemedtobenothing,notrace,exceptinoneplace,wheresomethickdropsofcongealedbloodwereclingingtothefrayededgeofhistrousers.
Hepickedupabigclaspknifeandcutoffthefrayedthreads.Thereseemedtobenothingmore.
Suddenlyherememberedthatthepurseandthethingshehadtakenoutoftheoldwoman’sboxwerestillinhispockets!
Hehadnotthoughttillthenoftakingthemoutandhidingthem!
Hehadnoteventhoughtofthemwhilehewasexamininghisclothes!Whatnext?
Instantlyherushedtotakethemoutandflingthemonthetable.
Whenhehadpulledouteverything,andturnedthepocketinsideouttobesuretherewasnothingleft,hecarriedthewholeheaptothecorner.
Thepaperhadcomeoffthebottomofthewallandhungthereintatters.
Hebeganstuffingallthethingsintotheholeunderthepaper:“They’rein!Alloutofsight,andthepursetoo!”
hethoughtgleefully,gettingupandgazingblanklyattheholewhichbulgedoutmorethanever.
Suddenlyheshudderedalloverwithhorror;“MyGod!”
hewhisperedindespair:“what’sthematterwithme?Isthathidden?Isthatthewaytohidethings?”
Hehadnotreckonedonhavingtrinketstohide.Hehadonlythoughtofmoney,andsohadnotpreparedahiding-place.
“Butnow,now,whatamIgladof?”hethought,“Isthathidingthings?Myreason’sdesertingme—simply!”
Hesatdownonthesofainexhaustionandwasatonceshakenbyanotherunbearablefitofshivering.
Mechanicallyhedrewfromachairbesidehimhisoldstudent’swintercoat,whichwasstillwarmthoughalmostinrags,coveredhimselfupwithitandoncemoresankintodrowsinessanddelirium.Helostconsciousness.
Notmorethanfiveminuteshadpassedwhenhejumpedupasecondtime,andatoncepouncedinafrenzyonhisclothesagain.
“HowcouldIgotosleepagainwithnothingdone?Yes,yes;Ihavenottakentheloopoffthearmhole!Iforgotit,forgotathinglikethat!Suchapieceofevidence!”
Hepulledoffthenoose,hurriedlycutittopiecesandthrewthebitsamonghislinenunderthepillow.
“Piecesoftornlinencouldn’trousesuspicion,whateverhappened;Ithinknot,Ithinknot,anyway!”
herepeated,standinginthemiddleoftheroom,andwithpainfulconcentrationhefelltogazingabouthimagain,atthefloorandeverywhere,tryingtomakesurehehadnotforgottenanything.
Theconvictionthatallhisfaculties,evenmemory,andthesimplestpowerofreflectionwerefailinghim,begantobeaninsufferabletorture.
“Surelyitisn’tbeginningalready!Surelyitisn’tmypunishmentcominguponme?Itis!”
Thefrayedragshehadcutoffhistrouserswereactuallylyingonthefloorinthemiddleoftheroom,whereanyonecominginwouldseethem!
“Whatisthematterwithme!”hecriedagain,likeonedistraught.
Thenastrangeideaenteredhishead;that,perhaps,allhisclotheswerecoveredwithblood,that,perhaps,therewereagreatmanystains,butthathedidnotseethem,didnotnoticethembecausehisperceptionswerefailing,weregoingtopieces…hisreasonwasclouded….
Suddenlyherememberedthattherehadbeenbloodonthepursetoo.“Ah!
Thentheremustbebloodonthepockettoo,forIputthewetpurseinmypocket!”
Inaflashhehadturnedthepocketinsideoutand,yes!—thereweretraces,stainsontheliningofthepocket!
“Somyreasonhasnotquitedesertedme,soIstillhavesomesenseandmemory,sinceIguesseditofmyself,”hethoughttriumphantly,withadeepsighofrelief;“it’ssimplytheweaknessoffever,amoment’sdelirium,”andhetorethewholeliningoutoftheleftpocketofhistrousers.
Atthatinstantthesunlightfellonhisleftboot;onthesockwhichpokedoutfromtheboot,hefanciedthereweretraces!Heflungoffhisboots;“tracesindeed!
Thetipofthesockwassoakedwithblood;”hemusthaveunwarilysteppedintothatpool….“ButwhatamItodowiththisnow?
WhereamItoputthesockandragsandpocket?”
Hegatheredthemallupinhishandsandstoodinthemiddleoftheroom.
“Inthestove?Buttheywouldransackthestovefirstofall.Burnthem?ButwhatcanIburnthemwith?Therearenomatcheseven.
No,bettergooutandthrowitallawaysomewhere.
Yes,betterthrowitaway,”herepeated,sittingdownonthesofaagain,“andatonce,thisminute,withoutlingering…”
Buthisheadsankonthepillowinstead.Againtheunbearableicyshiveringcameoverhim;againhedrewhiscoatoverhim.
Andforalongwhile,forsomehours,hewashauntedbytheimpulseto“gooffsomewhereatonce,thismoment,andflingitallaway,sothatitmaybeoutofsightanddonewith,atonce,atonce!”
Severaltimeshetriedtorisefromthesofa,butcouldnot.
Hewasthoroughlywakedupatlastbyaviolentknockingathisdoor.
“Open,do,areyoudeadoralive?Hekeepssleepinghere!”
shoutedNastasya,bangingwithherfistonthedoor.
“Forwholedaystogetherhe’ssnoringherelikeadog!Adogheistoo.OpenItellyou.It’spastten.”
“Maybehe’snotathome,”saidaman’svoice.
“Ha!that’stheporter’svoice….Whatdoeshewant?”
Hejumpedupandsatonthesofa.Thebeatingofhisheartwasapositivepain.
“Thenwhocanhavelatchedthedoor?”retortedNastasya.“He’stakentoboltinghimselfin!Asifhewereworthstealing!Open,youstupid,wakeup!”
“Whatdotheywant?Whytheporter?All’sdiscovered.Resistoropen?Comewhatmay!...”
Hehalfrose,stoopedforwardandunlatchedthedoor.
Hisroomwassosmallthathecouldundothelatchwithoutleavingthebed.Yes;theporterandNastasyawerestandingthere.
Nastasyastaredathiminastrangeway.Heglancedwithadefiantanddesperateairattheporter,whowithoutawordheldoutagreyfoldedpapersealedwithbottle-wax.
“Anoticefromtheoffice,”heannounced,ashegavehimthepaper.
“Fromwhatoffice?”
“Asummonstothepoliceoffice,ofcourse.Youknowwhichoffice.”
“Tothepolice?...Whatfor?...”
“HowcanItell?You’resentfor,soyougo.”
Themanlookedathimattentively,lookedroundtheroomandturnedtogoaway.
“He’sdownrightill!”observedNastasya,nottakinghereyesoffhim.Theporterturnedhisheadforamoment.“He’sbeeninafeversinceyesterday,”sheadded.
Raskolnikovmadenoresponseandheldthepaperinhishands,withoutopeningit.
“Don’tyougetupthen,”Nastasyawentoncompassionately,seeingthathewaslettinghisfeetdownfromthesofa.
“You’reill,andsodon’tgo;there’snosuchhurry.Whathaveyougotthere?”
Helooked;inhisrighthandheheldtheshredshehadcutfromhistrousers,thesock,andtheragsofthepocket.
Sohehadbeenasleepwiththeminhishand.
Afterwardsreflectinguponit,herememberedthathalfwakingupinhisfever,hehadgraspedallthistightlyinhishandandsofallenasleepagain.
“Lookattheragshe’scollectedandsleepswiththem,asthoughhehasgotholdofatreasure…”
AndNastasyawentoffintoherhystericalgiggle.
Instantlyhethrustthemallunderhisgreatcoatandfixedhiseyesintentlyuponher.
Farashewasfrombeingcapableofrationalreflectionatthatmoment,hefeltthatnoonewouldbehavelikethatwithapersonwhowasgoingtobearrested.“But…thepolice?”
“You’dbetterhavesometea!Yes?I’llbringit,there’ssomeleft.”
“No…I’mgoing;I’llgoatonce,”hemuttered,gettingontohisfeet.
“Why,you’llnevergetdownstairs!”
“Yes,I’llgo.”
“Asyouplease.”
Shefollowedtheporterout.
Atonceherushedtothelighttoexaminethesockandtherags.
“Therearestains,butnotverynoticeable;allcoveredwithdirt,andrubbedandalreadydiscoloured.
Noonewhohadnosuspicioncoulddistinguishanything.
Nastasyafromadistancecouldnothavenoticed,thankGod!”
Thenwithatremorhebrokethesealofthenoticeandbeganreading;hewasalongwhilereading,beforeheunderstood.
Itwasanordinarysummonsfromthedistrictpolice-stationtoappearthatdayathalf-pastnineattheofficeofthedistrictsuperintendent.
“Butwhenhassuchathinghappened?Ineverhaveanythingtodowiththepolice!Andwhyjustto-day?”hethoughtinagonisingbewilderment.“GoodGod,onlygetitoversoon!”
Hewasflinginghimselfonhiskneestopray,butbrokeintolaughter—notattheideaofprayer,butathimself.
Hebegan,hurriedlydressing.“IfI’mlost,Iamlost,Idon’tcare!ShallIputthesockon?”hesuddenlywondered,“itwillgetdustierstillandthetraceswillbegone.”
Butnosoonerhadheputitonthanhepulleditoffagaininloathingandhorror.
Hepulleditoff,butreflectingthathehadnoothersocks,hepickeditupandputitonagain—andagainhelaughed.
“That’sallconventional,that’sallrelative,merelyawayoflookingatit,”hethoughtinaflash,butonlyonthetopsurfaceofhismind,whilehewasshudderingallover,“there,I’vegotiton!Ihavefinishedbygettingiton!”
Buthislaughterwasquicklyfollowedbydespair.
“No,it’stoomuchforme…”hethought.Hislegsshook.“Fromfear,”hemuttered.Hisheadswamandachedwithfever.“It’satrick!
Theywanttodecoymethereandconfoundmeovereverything,”hemused,ashewentoutontothestairs—”theworstofitisI’malmostlight-headed…Imayblurtoutsomethingstupid…”
Onthestairsherememberedthathewasleavingallthethingsjustastheywereintheholeinthewall,“andverylikely,it’sonpurposetosearchwhenI’mout,”hethought,andstoppedshort.
Buthewaspossessedbysuchdespair,suchcynicismofmisery,ifonemaysocallit,thatwithawaveofhishandhewenton.“Onlytogetitover!”
Inthestreettheheatwasinsufferableagain;notadropofrainhadfallenallthosedays.
Againdust,bricksandmortar,againthestenchfromtheshopsandpot-houses,againthedrunkenmen,theFinnishpedlarsandhalf-broken-downcabs.
Thesunshonestraightinhiseyes,sothatithurthimtolookoutofthem,andhefelthisheadgoinground—asamaninafeverisapttofeelwhenhecomesoutintothestreetonabrightsunnyday.
Whenhereachedtheturningintothestreet,inanagonyoftrepidationhelookeddownit…atthehouse…andatonceavertedhiseyes.
“Iftheyquestionme,perhapsI’llsimplytell,”hethought,ashedrewnearthepolice-station.
Thepolice-stationwasaboutaquarterofamileoff.
Ithadlatelybeenmovedtonewroomsonthefourthfloorofanewhouse.
Hehadbeenonceforamomentintheoldofficebutlongago.
Turninginatthegateway,hesawontherightaflightofstairswhichapeasantwasmountingwithabookinhishand.
“Ahouse-porter,nodoubt;sothen,theofficeishere,”andhebeganascendingthestairsonthechance.
Hedidnotwanttoaskquestionsofanyone.
“I’llgoin,fallonmyknees,andconfesseverything…”hethought,ashereachedthefourthfloor.
Thestaircasewassteep,narrowandallsloppywithdirtywater.
Thekitchensoftheflatsopenedontothestairsandstoodopenalmostthewholeday.Sotherewasafearfulsmellandheat.
Thestaircasewascrowdedwithportersgoingupanddownwiththeirbooksundertheirarms,policemen,andpersonsofallsortsandbothsexes.
Thedooroftheoffice,too,stoodwideopen.Peasantsstoodwaitingwithin.
There,too,theheatwasstiflingandtherewasasickeningsmelloffreshpaintandstaleoilfromthenewlydecoratedrooms.
Afterwaitingalittle,hedecidedtomoveforwardintothenextroom.
Alltheroomsweresmallandlow-pitched.
Afearfulimpatiencedrewhimonandon.Noonepaidattentiontohim.
Inthesecondroomsomeclerkssatwriting,dressedhardlybetterthanhewas,andratheraqueer-lookingset.Hewentuptooneofthem.
“Whatisit?”
Heshowedthenoticehehadreceived.
“Youareastudent?”themanasked,glancingatthenotice.
“Yes,formerlyastudent.”
Theclerklookedathim,butwithouttheslightestinterest.Hewasaparticularlyunkemptpersonwiththelookofafixedideainhiseye.
“Therewouldbenogettinganythingoutofhim,becausehehasnointerestinanything,”thoughtRaskolnikov.
“Gointheretotheheadclerk,”saidtheclerk,pointingtowardsthefurthestroom.
Hewentintothatroom—thefourthinorder;itwasasmallroomandpackedfullofpeople,ratherbetterdressedthanintheouterrooms.Amongthemweretwoladies.
One,poorlydressedinmourning,satatthetableoppositethechiefclerk,writingsomethingathisdictation.
Theother,averystout,buxomwomanwithapurplish-red,blotchyface,excessivelysmartlydressedwithabroochonherbosomasbigasasaucer,wasstandingononeside,apparentlywaitingforsomething.
Raskolnikovthrusthisnoticeupontheheadclerk.
Thelatterglancedatit,said:“Waitaminute,”andwentonattendingtotheladyinmourning.
Hebreathedmorefreely.“Itcan’tbethat!”
Bydegreeshebegantoregainconfidence,hekepturginghimselftohavecourageandbecalm.
“Somefoolishness,sometriflingcarelessness,andImaybetraymyself!Hm…it’sapitythere’snoairhere,”headded,“it’sstifling….Itmakesone’sheaddizzierthanever…andone’smindtoo…”
Hewasconsciousofaterribleinnerturmoil.
Hewasafraidoflosinghisself-control;hetriedtocatchatsomethingandfixhismindonit,somethingquiteirrelevant,buthecouldnotsucceedinthisatall.
Yettheheadclerkgreatlyinterestedhim,hekepthopingtoseethroughhimandguesssomethingfromhisface.
Hewasaveryyoungman,abouttwoandtwenty,withadarkmobilefacethatlookedolderthanhisyears.
Hewasfashionablydressedandfoppish,withhishairpartedinthemiddle,wellcombedandpomaded,andworeanumberofringsonhiswell-scrubbedfingersandagoldchainonhiswaistcoat.
HesaidacoupleofwordsinFrenchtoaforeignerwhowasintheroom,andsaidthemfairlycorrectly.
“LuiseIvanovna,youcansitdown,”hesaidcasuallytothegaily-dressed,purple-facedlady,whowasstillstandingasthoughnotventuringtositdown,thoughtherewasachairbesideher.
“Ichdanke,”saidthelatter,andsoftly,witharustleofsilkshesankintothechair.
Herlightbluedresstrimmedwithwhitelacefloatedaboutthetablelikeanair-balloonandfilledalmosthalftheroom.Shesmeltofscent.
Butshewasobviouslyembarrassedatfillinghalftheroomandsmellingsostronglyofscent;andthoughhersmilewasimpudentaswellascringing,itbetrayedevidentuneasiness.
Theladyinmourninghaddoneatlast,andgotup.
Allatonce,withsomenoise,anofficerwalkedinveryjauntily,withapeculiarswingofhisshouldersateachstep.
Hetossedhiscockadedcaponthetableandsatdowninaneasy-chair.
Thesmallladypositivelyskippedfromherseatonseeinghim,andfelltocurtsyinginasortofecstasy;buttheofficertooknotthesmallestnoticeofher,andshedidnotventuretositdownagaininhispresence.Hewastheassistantsuperintendent.
Hehadareddishmoustachethatstoodouthorizontallyoneachsideofhisface,andextremelysmallfeatures,expressiveofnothingmuchexceptacertaininsolence.
HelookedaskanceandratherindignantlyatRaskolnikov;hewassoverybadlydressed,andinspiteofhishumiliatingposition,hisbearingwasbynomeansinkeepingwithhisclothes.
Raskolnikovhadunwarilyfixedaverylonganddirectlookonhim,sothathefeltpositivelyaffronted.
“Whatdoyouwant?”heshouted,apparentlyastonishedthatsucharaggedfellowwasnotannihilatedbythemajestyofhisglance.
“Iwassummoned…byanotice…”Raskolnikovfaltered.
“Fortherecoveryofmoneydue,fromthestudent,”theheadclerkinterferedhurriedly,tearinghimselffromhispapers.“Here!”
andheflungRaskolnikovadocumentandpointedouttheplace.“Readthat!”
“Money?Whatmoney?”thoughtRaskolnikov,“but…then…it’scertainlynotthat.”
Andhetrembledwithjoy.Hefeltsuddenintenseindescribablerelief.Aloadwasliftedfromhisback.
“Andpray,whattimewereyoudirectedtoappear,sir?”
shoutedtheassistantsuperintendent,seemingforsomeunknownreasonmoreandmoreaggrieved.
“Youaretoldtocomeatnine,andnowit’stwelve!”
“Thenoticewasonlybroughtmeaquarterofanhourago,”Raskolnikovansweredloudlyoverhisshoulder.
Tohisownsurprisehe,too,grewsuddenlyangryandfoundacertainpleasureinit.
“Andit’senoughthatIhavecomehereillwithfever.”
“Kindlyrefrainfromshouting!”
“I’mnotshouting,I’mspeakingveryquietly,it’syouwhoareshoutingatme.I’mastudent,andallownoonetoshoutatme.”
Theassistantsuperintendentwassofuriousthatforthefirstminutehecouldonlysplutterinarticulately.Heleapedupfromhisseat.
“Besilent!Youareinagovernmentoffice.Don’tbeimpudent,sir!”
“You’reinagovernmentoffice,too,”criedRaskolnikov,“andyou’resmokingacigaretteaswellasshouting,soyouareshowingdisrespecttoallofus.”
Hefeltanindescribablesatisfactionathavingsaidthis.
Theheadclerklookedathimwithasmile.Theangryassistantsuperintendentwasobviouslydisconcerted.
“That’snotyourbusiness!”heshoutedatlastwithunnaturalloudness.
“Kindlymakethedeclarationdemandedofyou.Showhim.AlexandrGrigorievitch.Thereisacomplaintagainstyou!Youdon’tpayyourdebts!You’reafinebird!”
ButRaskolnikovwasnotlisteningnow;hehadeagerlyclutchedatthepaper,inhastetofindanexplanation.Hereaditonce,andasecondtime,andstilldidnotunderstand.
“Whatisthis?”heaskedtheheadclerk.
“ItisfortherecoveryofmoneyonanIOU,awrit.
Youmusteitherpayit,withallexpenses,costsandsoon,orgiveawrittendeclarationwhenyoucanpayit,andatthesametimeanundertakingnottoleavethecapitalwithoutpayment,andnortosellorconcealyourproperty.
Thecreditorisatlibertytosellyourproperty,andproceedagainstyouaccordingtothelaw.”
“ButI…amnotindebttoanyone!”
“That’snotourbusiness.Here,anIOUforahundredandfifteenroubles,legallyattested,anddueforpayment,hasbeenbroughtusforrecovery,givenbyyoutothewidowoftheassessorZarnitsyn,ninemonthsago,andpaidoverbythewidowZarnitsyntooneMr.Tchebarov.Wethereforesummonyou,hereupon.”
“Butsheismylandlady!”
“Andwhatifsheisyourlandlady?”
Theheadclerklookedathimwithacondescendingsmileofcompassion,andatthesametimewithacertaintriumph,asatanoviceunderfireforthefirsttime—asthoughhewouldsay:“Well,howdoyoufeelnow?”
ButwhatdidhecarenowforanIOU,forawritofrecovery!
Wasthatworthworryingaboutnow,wasitworthattentioneven!
Hestood,heread,helistened,heanswered,heevenaskedquestionshimself,butallmechanically.
Thetriumphantsenseofsecurity,ofdeliverancefromoverwhelmingdanger,thatwaswhatfilledhiswholesoulthatmomentwithoutthoughtforthefuture,withoutanalysis,withoutsuppositionsorsurmises,withoutdoubtsandwithoutquestioning.
Itwasaninstantoffull,direct,purelyinstinctivejoy.
Butatthatverymomentsomethinglikeathunderstormtookplaceintheoffice.
Theassistantsuperintendent,stillshakenbyRaskolnikov’sdisrespect,stillfumingandobviouslyanxioustokeepuphiswoundeddignity,pouncedontheunfortunatesmartlady,whohadbeengazingathimeversincehecameinwithanexceedinglysillysmile.
“Youshamefulhussy!”heshoutedsuddenlyatthetopofhisvoice.
(Theladyinmourninghadlefttheoffice.)
“Whatwasgoingonatyourhouselastnight?Eh!
Adisgraceagain,you’reascandaltothewholestreet.Fightinganddrinkingagain.Doyouwantthehouseofcorrection?
Why,IhavewarnedyoutentimesoverthatIwouldnotletyouofftheeleventh!
Andhereyouareagain,again,you…you…!”
ThepaperfelloutofRaskolnikov’shands,andhelookedwildlyatthesmartladywhowassounceremoniouslytreated.
Buthesoonsawwhatitmeant,andatoncebegantofindpositiveamusementinthescandal.
Helistenedwithpleasure,sothathelongedtolaughandlaugh…allhisnerveswereonedge.
“IlyaPetrovitch!”theheadclerkwasbeginninganxiously,butstoppedshort,forheknewfromexperiencethattheenragedassistantcouldnotbestoppedexceptbyforce.
Asforthesmartlady,atfirstshepositivelytrembledbeforethestorm.
But,strangetosay,themorenumerousandviolentthetermsofabusebecame,themoreamiableshelooked,andthemoreseductivethesmilesshelavishedontheterribleassistant.
Shemoveduneasily,andcurtsiedincessantly,waitingimpatientlyforachanceofputtinginherword:andatlastshefoundit.
“Therewasnosortofnoiseorfightinginmyhouse,Mr.Captain,”shepatteredallatonce,likepeasdropping,speakingRussianconfidently,thoughwithastrongGermanaccent,“andnosortofscandal,andhishonourcamedrunk,andit’sthewholetruthIamtelling,Mr.Captain,andIamnottoblame….
Mineisanhonourablehouse,Mr.Captain,andhonourablebehaviour,Mr.Captain,andIalways,alwaysdislikeanyscandalmyself.
Buthecamequitetipsy,andaskedforthreebottlesagain,andthenhelifteduponeleg,andbeganplayingthepianofortewithonefoot,andthatisnotatallrightinanhonourablehouse,andheganzbrokethepiano,anditwasverybadmannersindeedandIsaidso.
Andhetookupabottleandbeganhittingeveryonewithit.
AndthenIcalledtheporter,andKarlcame,andhetookKarlandhithimintheeye;andhehitHenrietteintheeye,too,andgavemefiveslapsonthecheek.
Anditwassoungentlemanlyinanhonourablehouse,Mr.Captain,andIscreamed.
Andheopenedthewindowoverthecanal,andstoodinthewindow,squealinglikealittlepig;itwasadisgrace.
Theideaofsquealinglikealittlepigatthewindowintothestreet!Fieuponhim!
AndKarlpulledhimawayfromthewindowbyhiscoat,anditistrue,Mr.Captain,hetoreseinrock.
Andthenheshoutedthatmanmusspayhimfifteenroublesdamages.
AndIdidpayhim,Mr.Captain,fiveroublesforseinrock.
Andheisanungentlemanlyvisitorandcausedallthescandal.
‘Iwillshowyouup,’hesaid,‘forIcanwritetoallthepapersaboutyou.’”
“Thenhewasanauthor?”
“Yes,Mr.Captain,andwhatanungentlemanlyvisitorinanhonourablehouse….”
“Nowthen!Enough!Ihavetoldyoualready…”
“IlyaPetrovitch!”theheadclerkrepeatedsignificantly.
Theassistantglancedrapidlyathim;theheadclerkslightlyshookhishead.
”...SoItellyouthis,mostrespectableLuiseIvanovna,andItellityouforthelasttime,”theassistantwenton.
“Ifthereisascandalinyourhonourablehouseonceagain,Iwillputyouyourselfinthelock-up,asitiscalledinpolitesociety.Doyouhear?
Soaliteraryman,anauthortookfiveroublesforhiscoat-tailinan‘honourablehouse’?Aniceset,theseauthors!”
AndhecastacontemptuousglanceatRaskolnikov.
“Therewasascandaltheotherdayinarestaurant,too.
Anauthorhadeatenhisdinnerandwouldnotpay;‘I’llwriteasatireonyou,’sayshe.
Andtherewasanotherofthemonasteamerlastweekusedthemostdisgracefullanguagetotherespectablefamilyofacivilcouncillor,hiswifeanddaughter.
Andtherewasoneofthemturnedoutofaconfectioner’sshoptheotherday.
Theyarelikethat,authors,literarymen,students,town-criers….Pfoo!Yougetalong!
Ishalllookinuponyoumyselfoneday.Thenyouhadbetterbecareful!Doyouhear?”
Withhurrieddeference,LuiseIvanovnafelltocurtsyinginalldirections,andsocurtsiedherselftothedoor.
Butatthedoor,shestumbledbackwardsagainstagood-lookingofficerwithafresh,openfaceandsplendidthickfairwhiskers.
Thiswasthesuperintendentofthedistricthimself,NikodimFomitch.
LuiseIvanovnamadehastetocurtsyalmosttotheground,andwithmincinglittlesteps,sheflutteredoutoftheoffice.
“Againthunderandlightning—ahurricane!”saidNikodimFomitchtoIlyaPetrovitchinacivilandfriendlytone.“Youarearousedagain,youarefumingagain!Ihearditonthestairs!”
“Well,whatthen!”IlyaPetrovitchdrawledwithgentlemanlynonchalance;andhewalkedwithsomepaperstoanothertable,withajauntyswingofhisshouldersateachstep.
“Here,ifyouwillkindlylook:anauthor,orastudent,hasbeenoneatleast,doesnotpayhisdebts,hasgivenanIOU,won’tclearoutofhisroom,andcomplaintsareconstantlybeinglodgedagainsthim,andherehehasbeenpleasedtomakeaprotestagainstmysmokinginhispresence!
Hebehaveslikeacadhimself,andjustlookathim,please.
Here’sthegentleman,andveryattractiveheis!”
“Povertyisnotavice,myfriend,butweknowyougoofflikepowder,youcan’tbearaslight,Idaresayyoutookoffenceatsomethingandwenttoofaryourself,”continuedNikodimFomitch,turningaffablytoRaskolnikov.
“Butyouwerewrongthere;heisacapitalfellow,Iassureyou,butexplosive,explosive!
Hegetshot,firesup,boilsover,andnostoppinghim!Andthenit’sallover!Andatthebottomhe’saheartofgold!
HisnicknameintheregimentwastheExplosiveLieutenant….”
“Andwhataregimentitwas,too,”criedIlyaPetrovitch,muchgratifiedatthisagreeablebanter,thoughstillsulky.
Raskolnikovhadasuddendesiretosaysomethingexceptionallypleasanttothemall.
“Excuseme,Captain,”hebeganeasily,suddenlyaddressingNikodimFomitch,“willyouenterintomyposition?
...Iamreadytoaskpardon,ifIhavebeenill-mannered.
Iamapoorstudent,sickandshattered(shatteredwasthewordheused)bypoverty.
Iamnotstudying,becauseIcannotkeepmyselfnow,butIshallgetmoney….
IhaveamotherandsisterintheprovinceofX.
Theywillsendittome,andIwillpay.
Mylandladyisagood-heartedwoman,butsheissoexasperatedatmyhavinglostmylessons,andnotpayingherforthelastfourmonths,thatshedoesnotevensendupmydinner…andIdon’tunderstandthisIOUatall.
SheisaskingmetopayheronthisIOU.HowamItopayher?Judgeforyourselves!...”
“Butthatisnotourbusiness,youknow,”theheadclerkwasobserving.
“Yes,yes.Iperfectlyagreewithyou.
Butallowmetoexplain…”Raskolnikovputinagain,stilladdressingNikodimFomitch,buttryinghisbesttoaddressIlyaPetrovitchalso,thoughthelatterpersistentlyappearedtoberummagingamonghispapersandtobecontemptuouslyobliviousofhim.
“AllowmetoexplainthatIhavebeenlivingwithherfornearlythreeyearsandatfirst…atfirst…forwhyshouldInotconfessit,attheverybeginningIpromisedtomarryherdaughter,itwasaverbalpromise,freelygiven…shewasagirl…indeed,Ilikedher,thoughIwasnotinlovewithher…ayouthfulaffairinfact…thatis,Imeantosay,thatmylandladygavemecreditfreelyinthosedays,andIledalifeof…Iwasveryheedless…”
“Nobodyasksyouforthesepersonaldetails,sir,we’venotimetowaste,”IlyaPetrovitchinterposedroughlyandwithanoteoftriumph;butRaskolnikovstoppedhimhotly,thoughhesuddenlyfounditexceedinglydifficulttospeak.
“Butexcuseme,excuseme.Itisformetoexplain…howitallhappened…Inmyturn…thoughIagreewithyou…itisunnecessary.
Butayearago,thegirldiedoftyphus.
Iremainedlodgingthereasbefore,andwhenmylandladymovedintoherpresentquarters,shesaidtome…andinafriendlyway…thatshehadcompletetrustinme,butstill,wouldInotgiveheranIOUforonehundredandfifteenroubles,allthedebtIowedher.
ShesaidifonlyIgaveherthat,shewouldtrustmeagain,asmuchasIliked,andthatshewouldnever,never—thosewereherownwords—makeuseofthatIOUtillIcouldpayofmyself…andnow,whenIhavelostmylessonsandhavenothingtoeat,shetakesactionagainstme.WhatamItosaytothat?”
“Alltheseaffectingdetailsarenobusinessofours.”IlyaPetrovitchinterruptedrudely.
“Youmustgiveawrittenundertakingbutasforyourloveaffairsandallthesetragicevents,wehavenothingtodowiththat.”
“Comenow…youareharsh,”mutteredNikodimFomitch,sittingdownatthetableandalsobeginningtowrite.Helookedalittleashamed.
“Write!”saidtheheadclerktoRaskolnikov.
“Writewhat?”thelatterasked,gruffly.
“Iwilldictatetoyou.”
Raskolnikovfanciedthattheheadclerktreatedhimmorecasuallyandcontemptuouslyafterhisspeech,butstrangetosayhesuddenlyfeltcompletelyindifferenttoanyone’sopinion,andthisrevulsiontookplaceinaflash,inoneinstant.
Ifhehadcaredtothinkalittle,hewouldhavebeenamazedindeedthathecouldhavetalkedtothemlikethataminutebefore,forcinghisfeelingsuponthem.Andwherehadthosefeelingscomefrom?
Nowifthewholeroomhadbeenfilled,notwithpoliceofficers,butwiththosenearestanddearesttohim,hewouldnothavefoundonehumanwordforthem,soemptywashisheart.
Agloomysensationofagonising,everlastingsolitudeandremoteness,tookconsciousforminhissoul.
ItwasnotthemeannessofhissentimentaleffusionsbeforeIlyaPetrovitch,northemeannessofthelatter’striumphoverhimthathadcausedthissuddenrevulsioninhisheart.
Oh,whathadhetodonowwithhisownbaseness,withallthesepettyvanities,officers,Germanwomen,debts,police-offices?
Ifhehadbeensentencedtobeburntatthatmoment,hewouldnothavestirred,wouldhardlyhaveheardthesentencetotheend.
Somethingwashappeningtohimentirelynew,suddenandunknown.
Itwasnotthatheunderstood,buthefeltclearlywithalltheintensityofsensationthathecouldnevermoreappealtothesepeopleinthepolice-officewithsentimentaleffusionslikehisrecentoutburst,orwithanythingwhatever;andthatiftheyhadbeenhisownbrothersandsistersandnotpolice-officers,itwouldhavebeenutterlyoutofthequestiontoappealtotheminanycircumstanceoflife.
Hehadneverexperiencedsuchastrangeandawfulsensation.
Andwhatwasmostagonising—itwasmoreasensationthanaconceptionoridea,adirectsensation,themostagonisingofallthesensationshehadknowninhislife.
Theheadclerkbegandictatingtohimtheusualformofdeclaration,thathecouldnotpay,thatheundertooktodosoatafuturedate,thathewouldnotleavethetown,norsellhisproperty,andsoon.
“Butyoucan’twrite,youcanhardlyholdthepen,”observedtheheadclerk,lookingwithcuriosityatRaskolnikov.“Areyouill?”
“Yes,Iamgiddy.Goon!”
“That’sall.Signit.”
Theheadclerktookthepaper,andturnedtoattendtoothers.
Raskolnikovgavebackthepen;butinsteadofgettingupandgoingaway,heputhiselbowsonthetableandpressedhisheadinhishands.
Hefeltasifanailwerebeingdrivenintohisskull.
Astrangeideasuddenlyoccurredtohim,togetupatonce,togouptoNikodimFomitch,andtellhimeverythingthathadhappenedyesterday,andthentogowithhimtohislodgingsandtoshowhimthethingsintheholeinthecorner.
Theimpulsewassostrongthathegotupfromhisseattocarryitout.“Hadn’tIbetterthinkaminute?”flashedthroughhismind.
“No,bettercastofftheburdenwithoutthinking.”
Butallatoncehestoodstill,rootedtothespot.
NikodimFomitchwastalkingeagerlywithIlyaPetrovitch,andthewordsreachedhim:
“It’simpossible,they’llbothbereleased.
Tobeginwith,thewholestorycontradictsitself.
Whyshouldtheyhavecalledtheporter,ifithadbeentheirdoing?Toinformagainstthemselves?Orasablind?No,thatwouldbetoocunning!
Besides,Pestryakov,thestudent,wasseenatthegatebyboththeportersandawomanashewentin.
Hewaswalkingwiththreefriends,wholefthimonlyatthegate,andheaskedtheporterstodirecthim,inthepresenceofthefriends.
Now,wouldhehaveaskedhiswayifhehadbeengoingwithsuchanobject?
AsforKoch,hespenthalfanhouratthesilversmith’sbelow,beforehewentuptotheoldwomanandhelefthimatexactlyaquartertoeight.Nowjustconsider…”
“Butexcuseme,howdoyouexplainthiscontradiction?
Theystatethemselvesthattheyknockedandthedoorwaslocked;yetthreeminuteslaterwhentheywentupwiththeporter,itturnedoutthedoorwasunfastened.”
“That’sjustit;themurderermusthavebeenthereandboltedhimselfin;andthey’dhavecaughthimforacertaintyifKochhadnotbeenanassandgonetolookfortheportertoo.
Hemusthaveseizedtheintervaltogetdownstairsandslipbythemsomehow.
Kochkeepscrossinghimselfandsaying:‘IfIhadbeenthere,hewouldhavejumpedoutandkilledmewithhisaxe.’
Heisgoingtohaveathanksgivingservice—ha,ha!”
“Andnoonesawthemurderer?”
“Theymightwellnotseehim;thehouseisaregularNoah’sArk,”saidtheheadclerk,whowaslistening.
“It’sclear,quiteclear,”NikodimFomitchrepeatedwarmly.
“No,itisanythingbutclear,”IlyaPetrovitchmaintained.
Raskolnikovpickeduphishatandwalkedtowardsthedoor,buthedidnotreachit….
Whenherecoveredconsciousness,hefoundhimselfsittinginachair,supportedbysomeoneontherightside,whilesomeoneelsewasstandingontheleft,holdingayellowishglassfilledwithyellowwater,andNikodimFomitchstandingbeforehim,lookingintentlyathim.Hegotupfromthechair.
“What’sthis?Areyouill?”NikodimFomitchasked,rathersharply.
“Hecouldhardlyholdhispenwhenhewassigning,”saidtheheadclerk,settlingbackinhisplace,andtakinguphisworkagain.
“Haveyoubeenilllong?”criedIlyaPetrovitchfromhisplace,wherehe,too,waslookingthroughpapers.
Hehad,ofcourse,cometolookatthesickmanwhenhefainted,butretiredatoncewhenherecovered.
“Sinceyesterday,”mutteredRaskolnikovinreply.
“Didyougooutyesterday?”
“Yes.”
“Thoughyouwereill?”
“Yes.”
“Atwhattime?”
“Aboutseven.”
“Andwheredidyougo,myIask?”
“Alongthestreet.”
“Shortandclear.”
Raskolnikov,whiteasahandkerchief,hadansweredsharply,jerkily,withoutdroppinghisblackfeverisheyesbeforeIlyaPetrovitch’sstare.
“Hecanscarcelystandupright.Andyou…”NikodimFomitchwasbeginning.
“Nomatter,”IlyaPetrovitchpronouncedratherpeculiarly.
NikodimFomitchwouldhavemadesomefurtherprotest,butglancingattheheadclerkwhowaslookingveryhardathim,hedidnotspeak.Therewasasuddensilence.Itwasstrange.
“Verywell,then,”concludedIlyaPetrovitch,“wewillnotdetainyou.”
Raskolnikovwentout.Hecaughtthesoundofeagerconversationonhisdeparture,andabovetherestrosethequestioningvoiceofNikodimFomitch.Inthestreet,hisfaintnesspassedoffcompletely.
“Asearch—therewillbeasearchatonce,”herepeatedtohimself,hurryinghome.“Thebrutes!theysuspect.”
Hisformerterrormasteredhimcompletelyagain.
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