or named Burdovsky when she reached the age of twenty. I can even say definitely that it was a marriage of affection. After his wedding your father gave up his occupation as landsurveyor, and with his wife’s dowry of fifteen thousand roubles went in for commercial speculations. As he had had no experience, he was cheated on all sides, and took to drink in order to forget his troubles. He shortened his life by his excesses, and eight years after his marriage he died. Your mother says herself that she was left in the direst pov-erty, and would have died of starvation had it not been for Pavlicheff, who generously allowed her a yearly pension of six hundred roubles. Many people recall his extreme fond-ness for you as a little boy. Your mother confirms this, and agrees with others in thinking that he loved you the more because you were a sickly child, stammering in your speech, and almost deformed—for it is known that all his life Nico-lai Andreevitch had a partiality for unfortunates of every kind, especially children. In my opinion this is most impor-tant. I may add that I discovered yet another fact, the last on which I employed my detective powers. Seeing how fond Pavlicheff was of you,—it was thanks to him you went to school, and also had the advantage of special teachers—his relations and servants grew to believe that you were his son, and that your father had been betrayed by his wife. I may point out that this idea was only accredited generally dur-ing the last years of Pavlicheff’s life, when his next-of-kin were trembling about the succession, when the earlier story was quite forgotten, and when all opportunity for discov-ering the truth had seemingly passed away. No doubt you,
Mr. Burdovsky, heard this conjecture, and did not hesitate to accept it as true. I have had the honour of making your mother’s acquaintance, and I find that she knows all about these reports. What she does not know is that you, her son, should have listened to them so complaisantly. I found your respected mother at Pskoff, ill and in deep poverty, as she has been ever since the death of your benefactor. She told me with tears of gratitude how you had supported her; she expects much of you, and believes fervently in your future success…’
‘Oh, this is unbearable!’ said Lebedeff’s nephew impa-tiently. ‘What is the good of all this romancing?’
‘It is revolting and unseemly!’ cried Hippolyte, jumping up in a fury.
Burdovsky alone sat silent and motionless.
‘What is the good of it?’ repeated Gavrila Ardalionovitch, with pretended surprise. ‘Well, firstly, because now perhaps Mr. Burdovsky is quite convinced that Mr. Pavlicheff’s love for him came simply from generosity of soul, and not from paternal duty. It was most necessary to impress this fact upon his mind, considering that he approved of the article written by Mr. Keller. I speak thus because I look on you, Mr. Burdovsky, as an honourable man. Secondly, it appears that there was no intention of cheating in this case, even on the part of Tchebaroff. I wish to say this quite plainly, because the prince hinted a while ago that I too thought it an attempt at robbery and extortion. On the contrary, ev-eryone has been quite sincere in the matter, and although Tchebaroff may be somewhat of a rogue, in this business he
has acted simply as any sharp lawyer would do under the circumstances. He looked at it as a case that might bring him in a lot of money, and he did not calculate badly; be-cause on the one hand he speculated on the generosity of the prince, and his gratitude to the late Mr. Pavlicheff, and on the other to his chivalrous ideas as to the obligations of honour and conscience. As to Mr. Burdovsky, allowing for his principles, we may acknowledge that he engaged in the business with very little personal aim in view. At the instigation of Tchebaroff and his other friends, he decided to make the attempt in the service of truth, progress, and humanity. In short, the conclusion may be drawn that, in spite of all appearances, Mr. Burdovsky is a man of irre-proachable character, and thus the prince can all the more readily offer him his friendship, and the assistance of which he spoke just now…’
‘Hush! hush! Gavrila Ardalionovitch!’ cried Muishkin in dismay, but it was too late.
‘I said, and I have repeated it over and over again,’ shout-ed Burdovsky furiously, ‘that I did not want the money. I will not take it… why…I will not… I am going away!’
He was rushing hurriedly from the terrace, when Lebe-deff’s nephew seized his arms, and said something to him in a low voice. Burdovsky turned quickly, and drawing an addressed but unsealed envelope from his pocket, he threw it down on a little table beside the prince.
‘There’s the money!… How dare you?…The money!’ ‘Those are the two hundred and fifty roubles you dared
to send him as a charity, by the hands of Tchebaroff,’ ex-
plained Doktorenko.
‘The article in the newspaper put it at fifty!’ cried Colia. ‘I beg your pardon,’ said the prince, going up to Burdo-
vsky. ‘I have done you a great wrong, but I did not send you that money as a charity, believe me. And now I am again to blame. I offended you just now.’ (The prince was much dis-tressed; he seemed worn out with fatigue, and spoke almost incoherently.) ‘I spoke of swindling… but I did not apply that to you. I was deceived …. I said you were… aflicted… like me… But you are not like me… you give lessons… you sup-port your mother. I said you had dishonoured your mother, but you love her. She says so herself… I did not know… Gavr-ila Ardalionovitch did not tell me that… Forgive me! I dared to offer you ten thousand roubles, but I was wrong. I ought to have done it differently, and now… there is no way of do-ing it, for you despise me…’
‘I declare, this is a lunatic asylum!’ cried Lizabetha Pro-kofievna.
‘Of course it is a lunatic asylum!’ repeated Aglaya sharply, but her words were overpowered by other voices. Everybody was talking loudly, making remarks and comments; some discussed the affair gravely, others laughed. Ivan Fedoro-vitch Epanchin was extremely indignant. He stood waiting for his wife with an air of offended dignity. Lebedeff’s neph-ew took up the word again.
‘Well, prince, to do you justice, you certainly know how to make the most of your—let us call it infirmity, for the sake of politeness; you have set about offering your money and friendship in such a way that no self-respecting man
could possibly accept them. This is an excess of ingenuous-ness or of malice—you ought to know better than anyone which word best fits the case.’
‘Allow me, gentlemen,’ said Gavrila Ardalionovitch, who had just examined the contents of the envelope, ‘there are only a hundred roubles here, not two hundred and fifty. I point this out, prince, to prevent misunderstanding.’
‘Never mind, never mind,’ said the prince, signing to him to keep quiet.
‘But we do mind,’ said Lebedeff’s nephew vehemently. ‘Prince, your ‘never mind’ is an insult to us. We have noth-ing to hide; our actions can bear daylight. It is true that
there are only a hundred roubles instead of two hundred and fifty, but it is all the same.’
‘Why, no, it is hardly the same,’ remarked Gavrila Ar-dalionovitch, with an air of ingenuous surprise.
‘Don’t interrupt, we are not such fools as you think, Mr. Lawyer,’ cried Lebedeff’s nephew angrily. ‘Of course there is a difference between a hundred roubles and two hundred and fifty, but in this case the principle is the main point, and that a hundred and fifty roubles are missing is only a side issue. The point to be emphasized is that Burdovsky will not accept your highness’s charity; he flings it back in your face, and it scarcely matters if there are a hundred roubles or two hundred and fifty. Burdovsky has refused ten thousand roubles; you heard him. He would not have returned even a hundred roubles if he was dishonest! The hundred and fifty roubles were paid to Tchebaroff for his travelling expens-es. You may jeer at our stupidity and at our inexperience
in business matters; you have done all you could already to make us look ridiculous; but do not dare to call us dishon-est. The four of us will club together every day to repay the hundred and fifty roubles to the prince, if we have to pay it in instalments of a rouble at a time, but we will repay it, with interest. Burdovsky is poor, he has no millions. After his journey to see the prince Tchebaroff sent in his bill. We counted on winning… Who would not have done the same in such a case?’
‘Who indeed?’ exclaimed Prince S.
‘I shall certainly go mad, if I stay here!’ cried Lizabetha Prokofievna.
‘It reminds me,’ said Evgenie Pavlovitch, laughing,
