‘Let them shout and whistle, if they dare!’ Her eyes flashed at the thought. But, underneath this, she had another mo-
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 suficiently 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.
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
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-
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
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-
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
shall not sell my property; I shall wait. Enterprise is better than money, and there, sir, you have my whole system of
