orator? Where’s Lebedeff? Has he finished? What did he talk about? Is it true, prince, that you once declared that ‘beauty would save the world’? Great Heaven! The prince says that beauty saves the world! And I declare that he only has such playful ideas because he’s in love! Gentlemen, the prince is in love. I guessed it the moment he came in. Don’t blush, prince; you make me sorry for you. What beauty saves the world? Colia told me that you are a zealous Christian; is it so? Colia says you call yourself a Christian.’
The prince regarded him attentively, but said nothing. ‘You don’t answer me; perhaps you think I am very fond
of you?’ added Hippolyte, as though the words had been drawn from him.
‘No, I don’t think that. I know you don’t love me.’ ‘What, after yesterday? Wasn’t I honest with you?’ ‘I knew yesterday that you didn’t love me.’
‘Why so? why so? Because I envy you, eh? You always think that, I know. But do you know why I am saying all this? Look here! I must have some more champagne—pour me out some, Keller, will you?’
‘No, you’re not to drink any more, Hippolyte. I won’t let you.’ The prince moved the glass away.
‘Well perhaps you’re right,’ said Hippolyte, musing. They might say—yet, devil take them! what does it matter?— prince, what can it matter what people will say of us THEN, eh? I believe I’m half asleep. I’ve had such a dreadful dream— I’ve only just remembered it. Prince, I don’t wish you such dreams as that, though sure enough, perhaps, I DON’T love you. Why wish a man evil, though you do not love him, eh?
Give me your hand—let me press it sincerely. There—you’ve given me your hand—you must feel that I DO press it sin-cerely, don’t you? I don’t think I shall drink any more. What time is it? Never mind, I know the time. The time has come, at all events. What! they are laying supper over there, are they? Then this table is free? Capital, gentlemen! I—hem! these gentlemen are not listening. Prince, I will just read over an article I have here. Supper is more interesting, of course, but—‘
Here Hippolyte suddenly, and most unexpectedly, pulled out of his breast-pocket a large sealed paper. This imposing-looking document he placed upon the table before him.
The effect of this sudden action upon the company was instantaneous. Evgenie Pavlovitch almost bounded off his chair in excitement. Rogojin drew nearer to the table with a look on his face as if he knew what was coming. Gania came nearer too; so did Lebedeff and the others—the paper seemed to be an object of great interest to the company in general.
‘What have you got there?’ asked the prince, with some anxiety.
‘At the first glimpse of the rising sun, prince, I will go to bed. I told you I would, word of honour! You shall see!’ cried Hippolyte. ‘You think I’m not capable of opening this packet, do you?’ He glared defiantly round at the audience in general.
The prince observed that he was trembling all over. ‘None of us ever thought such a thing!’ Muishkin replied
for all. ‘Why should you suppose it of us? And what are you
going to read, Hippolyte? What is it?’
‘Yes, what is it?’ asked others. The packet sealed with red wax seemed to attract everyone, as though it were a mag-net.
‘I wrote this yesterday, myself, just after I saw you, prince, and told you I would come down here. I wrote all day and all night, and finished it this morning early. Afterwards I had a dream.’
‘Hadn’t we better hear it tomorrow?’ asked the prince timidly.
‘Tomorrow ‘there will be no more time!’’ laughed Hip-polyte, hysterically. ‘You needn’t be afraid; I shall get through the whole thing in forty minutes, at most an hour! Look how interested everybody is! Everybody has drawn near. Look! look at them all staring at my sealed packet! If I hadn’t sealed it up it wouldn’t have been half so effective! Ha, ha! that’s mystery, that is! Now then, gentlemen, shall I break the seal or not? Say the word; it’s a mystery, I tell you—a secret! Prince, you know who said there would be
‘no more time’? It was the great and powerful angel in the Apocalypse.’
‘Better not read it now,’ said the prince, putting his hand on the packet.
‘No, don’t read it!’ cried Evgenie suddenly. He appeared so strangely disturbed that many of those present could not help wondering.
‘Reading? None of your reading now!’ said somebody; ‘it’s suppertime.’ ‘What sort of an article is it? For a paper? Probably it’s very dull,’ said another. But the prince’s timid
gesture had impressed even Hippolyte.
‘Then I’m not to read it?’ he whispered, nervously. ‘Am I not to read it?’ he repeated, gazing around at each face in turn. ‘What are you afraid of, prince?’ he turned and asked the latter suddenly.
‘What should I be afraid of?’
‘Has anyone a coin about them? Give me a twenty-copeck piece, somebody!’ And Hippolyte leapt from his chair.
‘Here you are,’ said Lebedeff, handing him one; he thought the boy had gone mad.
‘Vera Lukianovna,’ said Hippolyte, ‘toss it, will you? Heads, I read, tails, I don’t.’
Vera Lebedeff tossed the coin into the air and let it fall on the table.
It was ‘heads.’
‘Then I read it,’ said Hippolyte, in the tone of one bowing to the fiat of destiny. He could not have grown paler if a ver-dict of death had suddenly been presented to him.
‘But after all, what is it? Is it possible that I should have just risked my fate by tossing up?’ he went on, shuddering; and looked round him again. His eyes had a curious ex-pression of sincerity. ‘That is an astonishing psychological fact,’ he cried, suddenly addressing the prince, in a tone of the most intense surprise. ‘It is … it is something quite in-conceivable, prince,’ he repeated with growing animation, like a man regaining consciousness. ‘Take note of it, prince, remember it; you collect, I am told, facts concerning capi-tal punishment… They told me so. Ha, ha! My God, how absurd!’ He sat down on the sofa, put his elbows on the ta-
ble, and laid his head on his hands. ‘It is shameful—though what does it matter to me if it is shameful?
‘Gentlemen, gentlemen! I am about to break the seal,’ he continued, with determination. ‘I-I—of course I don’t insist upon anyone listening if they do not wish to.’
With trembling fingers he broke the seal and drew out several sheets of paper, smoothed them out before him, and began sorting them.
‘What on earth does all this mean? What’s he going to read?’ muttered several voices. Others said nothing; but one and all sat down and watched with curiosity. They began to think something strange might really be about to happen. Vera stood and trembled behind her father’s chair, almost in tears with fright; Colia was nearly as much alarmed as she was. Lebedeff jumped up and put a couple of candles nearer to Hippolyte, so that he might see better.
‘Gentlemen, this—you’ll soon see what this is,’ began Hippolyte, and suddenly commenced his reading.
‘It’s headed, ‘A Necessary Explanation,’ with the motto, ‘Apres moi le deluge!’ Oh, deuce take it all! Surely I can never have seriously written such a silly motto as that? Look here, gentlemen, I beg to give notice that all this is very likely ter-rible nonsense. It is only a few ideas of mine. If you think
that there is anything mysterious coming—or in a word—‘ ‘Better read on without any more beating about the bush,’
said Gania.
‘Affectation!’ remarked someone else.
‘Too much talk,’ said Rogojin, breaking the silence for the first time.
Hippolyte glanced at him suddenly, and when their eye, met Rogojin showed his teeth in a disagreeable smile, and said the following strange words: ‘That’s not the way to set-tle this business, my friend; that’s not the way at all.’
Of course nobody knew what Rogojin meant by this; but his words made a deep impression upon all. Everyone seemed to see in a flash the same idea.
As for Hippolyte, their effect upon him was astound-ing. He trembled so that the prince was obliged to support him, and would certainly have cried out, but that his voice seemed to have entirely left him for the moment. For a min-ute or two he could not speak at all, but panted and stared at Rogojin. At last he managed to ejaculate:
‘Then it was YOU who came—YOU—YOU?’
‘Came where? What do you mean?’ asked Rogojin, amazed. But Hippolyte, panting and choking with excite-ment, interrupted him violently.
‘YOU came to me last week, in the night, at two o’clock, the day I was with you in the morning! Confess it was you!’ ‘Last week? In the night? Have you gone cracked, my
good friend?’
Hippolyte paused and considered a moment. Then a smile of cunning—almost triumph—crossed his lips.
‘It was you,’ he murmured, almost in a whisper, but with absolute conviction. ‘Yes, it was you who came to my room and sat silently on a chair at my window for a whole hour— more! It was between one and two at night; you rose and went out at about three. It was you, you! Why you should have frightened me so, why you should have wished to tor-
ment me like that, I cannot tell—but you it was.’
There was absolute hatred in his eyes as he said this, but his look of fear and his trembling had
