‘Are you telling the truth?’
‘Yes, tell her. Well, your servant. I am staying very near you.’
As he went out, Svidrigaïlov ran up against Razumihin in the doorway.
Chapter II
It was nearly eight o’clock. The two young men hurried to Bakaleyev’s, to arrive before Luzhin.
‘Why, who was that?’ asked Razumihin, as soon as they were in the street.
‘It was Svidrigaïlov, that landowner in whose house my sister was insulted when she was their governess. Through his persecuting her with his attentions, she was turned out by his wife, Marfa Petrovna. This Marfa Petrovna begged Dounia’s forgiveness afterwards, and she’s just died sud-denly. It was of her we were talking this morning. I don’t know why I’m afraid of that man. He came here at once af-ter his wife’s funeral. He is very strange, and is determined on doing something…. We must guard Dounia from him … that’s what I wanted to tell you, do you hear?’
‘Guard her! What can he do to harm Avdotya Romanov-na? Thank you, Rodya, for speaking to me like that…. We will, we will guard her. Where does he live?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Why didn’t you ask? What a pity! I’ll find out, though.’ ‘Did you see him?’ asked Raskolnikov after a pause. ‘Yes, I noticed him, I noticed him well.’
‘You did really see him? You saw him clearly?’ Raskol-nikov insisted.
‘Yes, I remember him perfectly, I should know him in a
thousand; I have a good memory for faces.’ They were silent again.
‘Hm! … that’s all right,’ muttered Raskolnikov. ‘Do you know, I fancied … I keep thinking that it may have been an hallucination.’
‘What do you mean? I don’t understand you.’
‘Well, you all say,’ Raskolnikov went on, twisting his mouth into a smile, ‘that I am mad. I thought just now that perhaps I really am mad, and have only seen a phantom.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Why, who can tell? Perhaps I am really mad, and per-haps everything that happened all these days may be only imagination.’
‘Ach, Rodya, you have been upset again! … But what did he say, what did he come for?’
Raskolnikov did not answer. Razumihin thought a min-ute.
‘Now let me tell you my story,’ he began, ‘I came to you, you were asleep. Then we had dinner and then I went to Porfiry’s, Zametov was still with him. I tried to begin, but it was no use. I couldn’t speak in the right way. They don’t seem to understand and can’t understand, but are not a bit ashamed. I drew Porfiry to the window, and began talking to him, but it was still no use. He looked away and I looked away. At last I shook my fist in his ugly face, and told him as a cousin I’d brain him. He merely looked at me, I cursed and came away. That was all. It was very stupid. To Zametov I didn’t say a word. But, you see, I thought I’d made a mess of it, but as I went downstairs a brilliant idea struck me: why
should we trouble? Of course if you were in any danger or anything, but why need you care? You needn’t care a hang for them. We shall have a laugh at them afterwards, and if I were in your place I’d mystify them more than ever. How ashamed they’ll be afterwards! Hang them! We can thrash them afterwards, but let’s laugh at them now!’
‘To be sure,’ answered Raskolnikov. ‘But what will you say to-morrow?’ he thought to himself. Strange to say, till that moment it had never occurred to him to wonder what Razumihin would think when he knew. As he thought it, Raskolnikov looked at him. Razumihin’s account of his vis-it to Porfiry had very little interest for him, so much had come and gone since then.
In the corridor they came upon Luzhin; he had arrived punctually at eight, and was looking for the number, so that all three went in together without greeting or look-ing at one another. The young men walked in first, while Pyotr Petrovitch, for good manners, lingered a little in the passage, taking off his coat. Pulcheria Alexandrovna came forward at once to greet him in the doorway, Dounia was welcoming her brother. Pyotr Petrovitch walked in and quite amiably, though with redoubled dignity, bowed to the ladies. He looked, however, as though he were a little put out and could not yet recover himself. Pulcheria Alexan-drovna, who seemed also a little embarrassed, hastened to make them all sit down at the round table where a samovar was boiling. Dounia and Luzhin were facing one another on opposite sides of the table. Razumihin and Raskolnikov were facing Pulcheria Alexandrovna, Razumihin was next
1
to Luzhin and Raskolnikov was beside his sister.
A moment’s silence followed. Pyotr Petrovitch delib-erately drew out a cambric handkerchief reeking of scent and blew his nose with an air of a benevolent man who felt himself slighted, and was firmly resolved to insist on an ex-planation. In the passage the idea had occurred to him to keep on his overcoat and walk away, and so give the two ladies a sharp and emphatic lesson and make them feel the gravity of the position. But he could not bring himself to do this. Besides, he could not endure uncertainty, and he wanted an explanation: if his request had been so openly disobeyed, there was something behind it, and in that case it was better to find it out beforehand; it rested with him to punish them and there would always be time for that.
‘I trust you had a favourable journey,’ he inquired ofi-cially of Pulcheria Alexandrovna.
‘Oh, very, Pyotr Petrovitch.’
‘I am gratified to hear it. And Avdotya Romanovna is not over-fatigued either?’
‘I am young and strong, I don’t get tired, but it was a great strain for mother,’ answered Dounia.
‘That’s unavoidable! our national railways are of terrible length. ‘Mother Russia,’ as they say, is a vast country…. In spite of all my desire to do so, I was unable to meet you yes-terday. But I trust all passed off without inconvenience?’
‘Oh, no, Pyotr Petrovitch, it was all terribly disheart-ening,’ Pulcheria Alexandrovna hastened to declare with peculiar intonation, ‘and if Dmitri Prokofitch had not been sent us, I really believe by God Himself, we should have
been utterly lost. Here, he is! Dmitri Prokofitch Razumihin,’ she added, introducing him to Luzhin.
‘I had the pleasure … yesterday,’ muttered Pyotr Petro-vitch with a hostile glance sidelong at Razumihin; then he scowled and was silent.
Pyotr Petrovitch belonged to that class of persons, on the surface very polite in society, who make a great point of punctiliousness, but who, directly they are crossed in any-thing, are completely disconcerted, and become more like sacks of flour than elegant and lively men of society. Again all was silent; Raskolnikov was obstinately mute, Avdotya Romanovna was unwilling to open the conversation too soon. Razumihin had nothing to say, so Pulcheria Alexan-drovna was anxious again.
‘Marfa Petrovna is dead, have you heard?’ she began hav-ing recourse to her leading item of conversation.
‘To be sure, I heard so. I was immediately informed, and I have come to make you acquainted with the fact that Arkady Ivanovitch Svidrigaïlov set off in haste for Peters-burg immediately after his wife’s funeral. So at least I have excellent authority for believing.’
‘To Petersburg? here?’ Dounia asked in alarm and looked at her mother.
‘Yes, indeed, and doubtless not without some design, having in view the rapidity of his departure, and all the cir-cumstances preceding it.’
‘Good heavens! won’t he leave Dounia in peace even here?’ cried Pulcheria Alexandrovna.
‘I imagine that neither you nor Avdotya Romanovna
have any grounds for uneasiness, unless, of course, you are yourselves desirous of getting into communication with him. For my part I am on my guard, and am now discover-ing where he is lodging.’
‘Oh, Pyotr Petrovitch, you would not believe what a fright you have given me,’ Pulcheria Alexandrovna went on: ‘I’ve only seen him twice, but I thought him terrible, terrible! I am convinced that he was the cause of Marfa Petrovna’s death.’
‘It’s impossible to be certain about that. I have precise information. I do not dispute that he may have contribut-ed to accelerate the course of events by the moral influence, so to say, of the affront; but as to the general conduct and moral characteristics of that personage, I am in agreement with you. I do not know whether he is well off now, and pre-cisely what Marfa Petrovna left him; this will be known to me within a very short period; but no doubt here in Peters-burg, if he has any pecuniary resources, he will relapse at once into his old ways. He is the most depraved, and abject-ly vicious specimen of that class of men. I have considerable reason to believe that Marfa Petrovna, who was so unfor-tunate as to fall in love with him and to pay his debts eight years ago, was of service to him also in another way. Solely by her exertions and sacrifices, a criminal charge, involving an element of fantastic and homicidal brutality for which he might well have been sentenced to Siberia, was hushed up. That’s the sort of man he is, if you care to know.’
‘Good heavens!’ cried Pulcheria Alexandrovna. Raskol-nikov listened attentively.
‘Are you speaking the truth when you say that you have good evidence of this?’ Dounia asked sternly and emphati-cally.
‘I only repeat what I was told in secret by Marfa Petrovna. I must observe that from the legal point of view the case was far from clear. There was, and I believe still is, living here a woman called
