Complete Works of Fyodor Dostoyevsky (626 page)

Anna Andreyevna came in to me hurriedly, clasped her hands before me and said, that not for her own sake, but for the prince’s she besought me not to go away, but to go in to him as soon as he waked up.  “He will be lost without you, he will have a nervous attack; I’m afraid he may break down before night. . . .”  She added that she herself would be compelled to be away “possibly for a couple of hours, and so she would be leaving the prince in my sole charge.”  I promised her warmly that I would remain till the evening, and that when the prince waked up I would do my very best to entertain him.

“And I will do my duty!” she declared with energy.

She went out.  I may add, anticipating events, that she went out to look for Lambert herself; this was her last hope; she also went to her brother’s, and to her relations, the Fanariotovs’; it may well be understood what her state of mind must have been when she returned.

The old prince waked up about an hour after her departure.  I heard him groan through the wall, and at once ran in to him; I found him sitting on the bed in his dressing-gown, but so terrified by his isolation, the light of the solitary lamp, and the strange room, that when I went in he started, jumped up and screamed.  I flew up to him, and when he recognised me, he began embracing me with tears of joy.

“I was told that you had moved into another lodging, that you had taken fright, and run away.”

“Who can have told you that?”

“Who could?  You see I may have imagined it myself, or some one may have told me.  Only fancy, I’ve just had a dream: an old man with a beard came in carrying an ikon, an ikon broken in two, and all at once he said, ‘So shall your life be broken in two!’”

“Good heavens!  You must have heard from some one that Versilov broke an ikon in two yesterday?”

“N’est-ce pas?  I heard so, I heard so!  I heard from Darya Onisimovna yesterday morning.  She brought my trunk here and the dog.”

“And so you dreamed of it.”

“Yes, I suppose so, and that old man kept shaking his finger at me.  Where is Anna Andreyevna?”

“She’ll be back directly.”

“Where from?  Has she gone away, too?” he exclaimed piteously.

“No, no, she’ll be here directly, and she asked me to stay with you.”

“Oui.  And so our Andrey Petrovitch has gone off his head, ‘so rapidly and unexpectedly!’  I always predicted that that’s how he’d end.  Stay, my dear. . . .”

He suddenly clutched me by my coat, and drew me towards him.

“The landlord,” he whispered: “brought in some photographs just now, horrid photographs of women, naked women in various oriental poses, and began showing them me in a glass. . . .  I admired them of course, though I did not like them, but you know that’s just as they brought horrid women to that poor fellow, so as to make him drunk more easily. . . .”

“Why, you are talking of Von Sohn, but that’s enough, prince!  The landlord’s a fool and nothing more!”

“A fool and nothing more!  C’est mon opinion!  My dear, rescue me from here if you can!”  He suddenly clasped his hands before me.

“Prince, I will do everything I can!  I am entirely at your service. . . .  Dear prince, wait a little and perhaps I will put everything right!”

“N’est-ce pas?  We’ll cut and run and we’ll leave my trunk here to look as though we are coming back.”

“Where should we run to!  And what of Anna Andreyevna?”

“No, no, we’ll go with Anna Andreyevna. . . .  Oh, mon cher, there’s a regular muddle in my head. . . .  Stay: there in my bag on the right, is Katya’s portrait.  I slipped it in on the sly so that Anna Andreyevna, and still more, that Darya Onisimovna should not notice it; take it out, for goodness’ sake make haste, be careful, mind we are not caught. . . .  Couldn’t you fasten the door with the hook?”

I did in fact, find in the bag a photograph of Katerina Nikolaevna in an oval frame.  He took it in his hands, carried it to the light, and tears suddenly flowed down his thin yellow cheeks.

“C’est un ange, c’est un ange du ciel!” he exclaimed:  “I never have been as good to her as I ought . . . and see what’s happened now!  Cher enfant, I don’t believe a word of it, not a word of it!  My dear, tell me: can you imagine, they are wanting to put me in a madhouse?  Je dis des choses charmantes et tout le monde rit . . . and all of a sudden they take a man like that to a madhouse!”

“That’s never happened!” I cried, “that’s a mistake.  I know her feelings.”

“You know her feelings, too?  That’s splendid!  My dear, you’ve given me new life.  How could they say things against you!  My dear, fetch Katya here, and let them kiss each other before me, and I will take them home, and we’ll get rid of the landlord!”

He stood up, clasped his hands, and fell on his knees before me.

“Cher,” he whispered, shaking like a leaf in a sort of insane terror:  “My dear, tell me the whole truth: where will they put me now?”

“My God!” I cried, raising him up, and making him sit on the bed: “why you don’t believe in me at last; do you think that I’m in the plot too?  I won’t let anyone lay a finger on you!”

“C’est-ça, don’t let them,” he faltered, clutching me tightly by the elbow with both hands, and still trembling.  “Don’t let anyone touch me!  And don’t tell me lies yourself about anything . . . for will they take me away from here?  Listen, that landlord, Ippolit or whatever his name is . . . isn’t a doctor?”

“A doctor?”

“This . . . this isn’t a madhouse, here, in this room?”

But at that instant the door opened, and Anna Andreyevna came in.  She must have been listening at the door, and, could not resist opening the door too suddenly — and the prince, who started at every creak, shrieked, and flung himself on his face on the pillow.  Finally he had something like a fit, which ended in sobs.

“See?  This is your doing,” I said to her, pointing to the old man.

“No, it’s your doing!” she raised her voice harshly, “I appeal to you for the last time, Arkady Makarovitch, will you unmask the diabolical intrigue against this defenceless old man, and sacrifice ‘your mad and childish dreams of love,’ to save your OWN sister?”

“I will save you all, but only in the way I told you this morning!  I am running off again, and perhaps in an hour Katerina Nikolaevna will be here herself!  I will reconcile you all, and you will all be happy!” I exclaimed almost with inspiration.

“Fetch her, fetch her here,” cried the prince in a flutter.  “Take me to her!  I want to see Katya and to bless her,” he exclaimed, lifting up his hands and springing off the bed.

“You see,” I said to Anna Andreyevna, motioning towards him: “you hear what he says: now at all events no ‘document’ will be any help to you.”

“I see, but it might help to justify my conduct in the opinion of the world, as it is, I’m disgraced!  Enough, my conscience is clear.  I am abandoned by everyone, even by my own brother, who has taken fright at my failure. . . .  But I will do my duty and will remain by this unhappy man, to take care of him and be his nurse!”

But there was no time to be lost.  I ran out of the room:  “I shall come back in an hour, and shall not come back alone,” I cried from the doorway.

CHAPTER XII

1

At last I found Tatyana Pavlovna at home!  I at once explained everything to her — all about the “document,” and every detail of what was going on at my lodgings.  Though she quite understood the position, and might have fully grasped what was happening in two words, yet the explanation took us, I believe, some ten minutes.  I did the talking, I put aside all shame and told her the whole truth.  She sat in her chair silent and immovable, drawing herself up straight as a knitting needle, with her lips compressed, and her eyes fixed upon me, listening greedily.  But when I finished she promptly jumped up from her chair, and with such impetuosity that I jumped up too.

“Ach, you puppy!  So you really had that letter sewn up in your pocket and it was sewn up there by that fool Marya Ivanovna!  Oh, you shameless villains!  So you came here to conquer hearts and take the fashionable world by storm.  You wanted to revenge yourself on the devil knows who, because you’re an illegitimate son, eh?”

“Tatyana Pavlovna, don’t dare to abuse me!” I cried.  “Perhaps you in your abuse have been the cause from the very beginning of my vindictiveness here.  Yes, I am an illegitimate son, and perhaps I worked to revenge myself for being an illegitimate son, and perhaps I did want to revenge myself on the devil knows who, the devil himself could scarcely find who is guilty; but remember, I’ve cut off all connection with these villains, and have conquered my passions.  I will lay the document before her in silence and will go away without even waiting for a word from her; you’ll be the witness of it!”

“Give me the letter, give me the letter, lay it on the table at once; but you are lying, perhaps.”

“It’s sewn up in my pocket.  Marya Ivanovna sewed it up herself; and when I had a new coat made here I took it out of the old one and sewed it up in the new coat; here it is, feel it, I’m not lying!”

“Give it me, take it out,” Tatyana Pavlovna stormed.

“Not on any account, I tell you again; I will lay it before her in your presence and will go away without waiting for a single word; but she must know and see with her eyes that it is my doing, that I’m giving it up to her of my own accord, without compulsion and without recompense.”

“Showing off again?  You’re in love, puppy, eh?”

“You may say horrid things to me as much as you like.  I’ve deserved them, but I’m not offended.  Oh, I may seem to her a paltry boy who has been keeping watch on her and plotting against her; but let her recognise that I have conquered myself and put her happiness above everything on earth!  Never mind, Tatyana Pavlovna, never mind!  I keep crying to myself: courage and hope!  What if this is my first step in life, anyway it is ending well, it is ending honourably!  And what if I do love her,” I went on fervently with flashing eyes; “I am not ashamed of it: mother is a heavenly angel, but she is an earthly queen!  Versilov will go back to mother, and I’ve no cause to be ashamed to face her; you know I once heard what Versilov and she were saying, I stood behind the curtain. . . .  Oh, we are all three possessed by the same madness.  Oh, do you know whose phrase that is ‘possessed by the same madness’?  They are his words, Andrey Petrovitch’s!  But do you know, perhaps there are more than three of us possessed by the same madness?  Yes, I don’t mind betting, you’re a fourth — possessed by the same madness!  Shall I say it — I will bet that you’ve been in love with Andrey Petrovitch all your life and perhaps you are so still . . .”

I repeat I was carried away by excitement and a sort of happiness, but I could not finish; she suddenly, with superhuman quickness, seized me by the hair and twice shook me backwards and forwards with all her might. . . .  Then she suddenly abandoned me and retreated into the corner, and hid her face in her handkerchief.

“You young puppy!  Never dare say that to me again!” she brought out, crying.

All this was so unexpected, that I was naturally thunderstruck.  I stood gazing at her, not knowing what to do.

“Foo, you stupid!  Come here and give me a kiss, though I am an old fool!” she said suddenly, laughing and crying: “and don’t you dare, don’t you ever dare to say that to me again . . . but I love you and have always loved you . . . you stupid.”

I kissed her.  I may mention in parenthesis that Tatyana Pavlovna and I were friends from that time forward.

“But oh! what am I doing?” she said suddenly, slapping herself on the forehead; “but what were you saying: the old prince is at your lodging?  But is it true?”

“I assure you he is.”

“Oh, my goodness!  Ach, it makes me sick!” she hurried to and fro about the room.  “And they are doing what they like with him there!  Ech, is there nothing will frighten the fools!  And ever since the morning!  Oh, oh, Anna Andreyevna.  Oh, oh, the nun!  And she of course, Militrissa, knows nothing about it.”

“What Militrissa?”

“Why, your earthly queen, your ideal!  Ach, but what’s to be done now?”

“Tatyana Pavlovna,” I cried, coming to myself, “we’ve been talking nonsense and have forgotten what matters; I ran out to fetch Katerina Nikolaevna, and they’re all waiting for me there.”

And I explained that I should give up the letter only on condition that she promised to be reconciled to Anna Andreyevna at once, and even agree to the marriage. . . .

“Quite right, too,” Tatyana Pavlovna interposed, “and I’ve said the same thing to her a hundred times.  Why, he’ll die before the wedding — he won’t be married anyhow, and if he leaves money to Anna in his will, why their names are in it as it is, and will remain there.”

“Surely it’s not only the money that Katerina Nikolaevna cares about?”

“No, she has been afraid all along that the letter was in Anna’s hands, and I was afraid of it, too!  We were keeping watch on her.  The daughter did not want to give the old father a shock, and the German, Büring, certainly did feel anxious about the money.”

“And after that she can marry Büring?”

“Why, what’s one to do with a little fool?  It’s a true saying, a fool’s a fool and will be a fool for ever.  He gives her a certain calm you see; ‘Since I must marry some one,’ she said, ‘I’ll marry him, he will suit me better than anyone’; she says; but we shall see afterwards how he suits her.  One may tear one’s hair afterwards, but then it’s too late.”

“Then why do you allow it?  You are fond of her, aren’t you?  Why, you told her to her face you were in love with her!”

“Yes, I am in love with her, and I love her more than all the rest of you put together, but she’s a senseless little fool all the same.”

“Well, run and fetch her now, and we will settle it all, and take her to her father ourselves.”

“But we can’t, we can’t, you little stupid!  That’s just it!  Ach, what are we to do!  Ach, it makes me sick!”  She fell to rushing to and fro again, though she snatched up her shawl.  “Ech, if only you had come to me four hours earlier, but now it’s eight o’clock, and she went off just now to the Pelistchevs’ to dinner, and afterwards she was going with them to the opera.”