The Brothers Karamazov (26 page)

“So she’s in there! She must be in there! You’ve hidden her! Get out of my way, you scum!”

He clutched at Gregory to pull him away, but Gregory pushed him off. Beside himself with fury, Dmitry swung his fist and hit Gregory with all his strength. The old servant went down as if felled by an axe. Dmitry jumped over the prostrate body and pushed the doors open. During all this time, Smerdyakov, pale and trembling, had stayed in the opposite corner of the room, huddling close to Mr. Karamazov.

“She’s here!” Dmitry yelled. “I saw her just now, coming this way. I couldn’t catch her . . . Where is she, where?”

Dmitry’s yell, “She’s here!” had an unexpected effect on the older Karamazov—all fear suddenly left him.

“Hold him, hold him!” he screamed and rushed in pursuit of Dmitry.

In the meantime Gregory had struggled back to his feet, but he still seemed badly shaken. Ivan and Alyosha ran after their father. Two rooms away, something fell to the floor with a crash and broke: in his wild rush, Dmitry had upset a large but not particularly expensive glass vase that stood on a marble table.

“Get him, get him, help!” Mr. Karamazov kept shouting.

Ivan and Alyosha caught up with the old man and brought him back forcibly to the living room.

“What are you doing?” Ivan shouted angrily at his father. “Going after him like that, you’re just asking for it—he’ll really kill you!”

“Vanya, Alyosha, my dear boys, does that mean that Grushenka came? Why, he said himself that he saw her coming this way . . .”

He was out of breath. He had not expected her to come that night, and now the idea that she might have come was driving him out of his mind. He was shivering all over; he looked quite insane.

“But you know she’s not here. You’d have seen her come in!” Ivan shouted in his ear.

“What about the back entrance? She could . . .”

“You know it’s locked and you have the key.”

At that moment, Dmitry reappeared in the living room. He had, of course, found the back entrance locked and, as Ivan had remarked, the key was in their father’s pocket. All the windows in every room were also closed, locked from the inside. There was, therefore, no way that Grushenka could have come in or got out.

“Grab him!” Karamazov shrieked at the sight of Dmitry. “He has stolen the money from my bedroom!”

With a sudden jerk, he broke loose from Ivan’s grip and rushed at Dmitry. Dmitry raised his hands, seized the few remaining tufts of hair on either side of the old man’s head, pulled him off his feet, and hurled him down on the floor with a great crash. Then, before his brothers could stop him, he managed twice to ram his heel into his father’s face. A piercing moan escaped from the old man. Ivan, although less strong than his older brother, grabbed him by the waist from behind and pulled him away from his father, while Alyosha from the front pushed him back with all his strength.

“You’re crazy!” Ivan shouted. “You’ve killed him, you madman!”

“Serve him right!” Dmitry snarled breathlessly. “And if I haven’t killed him this time, I’ll come back. You won’t stop me!”

“Get out of here, Dmitry, at once!” Alyosha cried in a commanding voice. “Go.”

“Alexei! You tell me, for you’re the only one I’ll believe: was she here just now or not? I just saw her myself turning in here from a backstreet and slipping along the fence . . . I called out to her and she ran . . .”

“You have my word that she wasn’t here and that no one here was even expecting her!”

“But I saw her . . . That means that she . . . I’ll find out where she is right away . . . Good-by, Alexei. It’s not the moment, of course, to ask the old ape for the money—so don’t. But go at once to Katerina’s, give her my regards, and say farewell to her for me. Yes, my best regards, just like that. And describe this scene to her too.”

Ivan and Gregory had raised the old man from the floor and sat him in an armchair. His face was covered with blood, but he had regained consciousness and was listening intently to what Dmitry was saying. He was still under the impression that Grushenka was really there, hiding somewhere in the house.

As he was leaving, Dmitry glared at him with loathing.

“I’m not sorry to see you covered with blood like that!” he shouted. “Watch out, old man, you’d better be careful with your plans because I have some plans of my own! I disown you as my father from now on, and I wish you damned!” And he rushed out.

“I’m sure she’s here, I’m sure!” the old man whispered hoarsely and hardly audibly. “Smerdyakov, come here, Smerdyakov . . .” and he beckoned to his servant with his finger.

“She’s not here,” Ivan said irritatedly. “You’re really a crazy old man! Hey, he’s fainted again . . . Smerdyakov, get me some water and a towel. Move!”

Smerdyakov hurried out to get some water.

Finally they undressed the old man, carried him to his bedroom, and put him to bed, wrapping his head in a wet towel. With all the brandy inside him and after the violent emotion and the blows he had received, Karamazov fell asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow. Ivan and Alyosha then went back to the living room. Smerdyakov was carrying out the pieces of broken glass. Gregory stood by the table, looking gloomily at his feet.

“Shouldn’t you put a wet towel around your head too, Gregory?” Alyosha said to him. “Don’t worry, we’ll look after father . . . You know, Dmitry gave you a pretty bad whack . . .”

“He dared to lift his hand to me!” Gregory said grimly and clearly.

“He dared rather more than that—he did the same thing to his own father,” Ivan said with a crooked grin.

“I used to bathe him in a trough and he dared to do that to me,” Gregory repeated.

“Hell, if I hadn’t pulled him off, I suppose he’d have killed him—how much more could the old fool take . . .” Ivan whispered.

“God forbid,” Alyosha said.

“Why God forbid?” Ivan continued in the same whisper, his mouth crooked with spite. “If one wild beast devours another, it’s good riddance to both of them.”

Alyosha shuddered.

“It goes without saying that I’ll try to prevent the murder, just as I did now . . . Say, Alyosha, would you stay here for a bit while I go out and get some fresh air? I’ve got a headache from all this.”

Alyosha went into his father’s bedroom and sat by the old man’s bed behind the screen for an hour or so. Mr. Karamazov suddenly opened his eyes and stared at Alyosha for a long time, apparently trying to remember exactly what had happened. Abruptly the expression on his face changed and he became very agitated.

“Alyosha,” he whispered, looking around fearfully, “where’s Ivan gone?”

“He had a headache and went outside. He’s here. He’s keeping an eye out for anything that might happen.”

“Give me that mirror over there.”

Alyosha handed him a small, round folding mirror that stood on the chest of drawers. The old man looked in the mirror: his nose was very swollen and over his left eyebrow was a large purplish bruise.

“What did Ivan say, Alyosha? You know, you’re my only true son: I’m afraid of Ivan, even more than of the other one. You’re the only one I’m not afraid of.”

“You mustn’t be afraid of Ivan. He’s angry with you, but he’ll protect you.”

“And what about the other one, Alyosha? He ran to Grushenka’s, didn’t he? Now tell me the truth, my dear boy, was Grushenka here when all that happened?”

“No one saw her. You’re wrong—she never came here.”

“Did you know that that no-good Dmitry wants to marry her?”

“She won’t marry him.”

“Right: she won’t, she won’t, she won’t!” old Karamazov cried in joyful agitation. There was apparently nothing he wanted to hear more than that assurance. He was so moved that he seized Alyosha’s hand and pressed it to his heart, tears filling his eyes.

“Alyosha,” he said, “that icon of the Mother of God, your mother’s, you know, the one I was telling you about this evening—well, take it and keep it . . . And I allow you to go back to your monastery . . . I didn’t mean what I said then seriously. It was just a joke. Forgive me. My head is awfully sore, Alyosha . . . Be a real angel, my dear boy, put my heart at rest, tell me the truth . . .”

“What again—whether she’s been here or not?” Alyosha said sadly.

“No, no, not that. I believe what you told me before. What I want you to do is to go over to Grushenka’s, or meet her somehow or other—but as soon as possible, because there’s a great, great hurry—and ask her, or somehow find out the truth, whom she really intends to take—him or me? What do you say? Will you do it or not?”

“I’ll ask her if I see her . . .” Alyosha mumbled, visibly embarrassed.

“No, that’s not good enough—she won’t tell you,” the old man interrupted him. “She’s a fickle thing, quite unpredictable—she may start kissing you and tell you it’s really you she wants. She’s a liar and quite shameless. No, you really mustn’t go to her place.”

“Yes, father, it wouldn’t be right for me to go to see her, it wouldn’t be right at all.”

“But where was Dmitry sending you when he was shouting, ‘Go and see her!’ just before he left?”

“It was Katerina he wanted me to see.”

“Did he send you there to get money from her, to ask her to give him some money?”

“No. It was not to get money from her.”

“But I know he hasn’t got any money. I know for sure he hasn’t a penny. You know what, Alyosha—I’ll sleep on it, and in the meantime you can go. Who knows, perhaps you’ll run into her. But be sure to come and see me tomorrow morning. I’ll tell you something very important then. Will you come?”

“I will.”

“If you come, make it seem as though you came on your own, just to find out how I feel. Don’t tell anyone I asked you specially to be here. And don’t tell Ivan either.”

“All right.”

“Good-by, my dear boy, I’ll never forget that you came to my defense tonight. I’ll remember that as long as I live. And I’ll tell you something tomorrow. But I must do some thinking first . . .”

“How do you feel now?”

“I’ll be up and about tomorrow. I’m quite all right really. I feel fine, perfectly fine!”

As Alyosha crossed the courtyard, he saw Ivan. He was sitting on a bench and writing something in a notebook with a pencil. Alyosha told him that their father had woken up, that his head had cleared completely, and that he had said Alyosha could return to the monastery.

“I’d very much like to see you tomorrow morning, Alyosha, if you can make it,” Ivan said.

He had risen when he saw his brother and his voice sounded warm and friendly; indeed, its warmth rather surprised Alyosha.

“Tomorrow . . .” Alyosha said. “Tomorrow I must go and see the Khokhlakovs, and probably I’ll have to go to Katerina’s as well, unless I can still see her this evening.”

“So you’re off to Katerina’s now, after all,” Ivan said with a smile. “I suppose it’s to give her those ‘best regards’ and say good-by, isn’t it?”

Alyosha was very embarrassed.

“I believe I have the whole picture now,” Ivan went on, “thanks to those instructions shouted to you, together with some other indications. I assume that Dmitry has asked you to go to her place and tell her from him . . . well, to let her understand that he is . . . so to speak bowing out. Do I have it right?”

“Vanya, how will all this horrible business end between father and Mitya?” Alyosha asked despairingly.

“It’s impossible to say for sure. Perhaps nothing will come of it, and it will just peter out by itself. The woman between them is a wild animal. In any case, the old man must be kept inside the house and Dmitry mustn’t be allowed to get in.”

“There’s something else I want to ask you, Vanya: Do you really believe that any man has the right to decide, when he looks at other people, which of them deserves to live and which no longer deserves to?”

“Why bring in this business of deserving? Men usually answer that question without worrying about merit; their answer is determined by much more natural reasons. But a man certainly has the right to wish for whatever he likes, and no one can deprive him of that right.”

“Even to wish the death of another man?”

“Well, why shouldn’t he wish another man to die? What would be the point of lying to ourselves when that’s just how things are in life and, I suppose, it’s the only possible way they can be. Are you asking me all this because of what I said about two beasts devouring each other? If so, let me ask you this: Do you think that I’m like Dmitry—capable of smashing the head of . . . well, capable of killing that old fool fool—do you?”

“How can you ask, Ivan! Nothing of the sort ever entered my mind . . . Besides, I don’t think Dmitry’s capable of it either, he . . .”

“Well, thank you for that, anyway,” Ivan said with a short laugh. “You can count on me to protect him whenever I can. Nevertheless, I reserve to myself complete freedom to wish for whatever I think fit, in this instance as well. So, see you tomorrow. And please don’t judge me too harshly, don’t consider me a criminal,” he added with a smile.

They parted with a warm handshake, warmer than ever before. Alyosha felt that Ivan had, on his own initiative, taken the first step to come closer to him and that he had some reason, some purpose, in taking that step.

Chapter 10: Two Women Meet

ALYOSHA LEFT his father’s house even sadder and more depressed than when he had entered it. His thoughts were splintered and scattered and he realized that he was afraid to bring all the fragments together to get a total picture of all the painful and conflicting feelings he had experienced in the course of that day. He was bordering on despair, something that had never happened to him before. Above all his preoccupations, like a mountain, loomed the fateful and unanswerable question: How would it end between his father and his brother Dmitry with that sinister woman between them? Now he had witnessed it himself. He had been there and had seen them facing each other. And Alyosha felt that the one who was likely to be most hurt, hurt horribly in this affair, was Dmitry and that a terrible catastrophe was awaiting his brother. There were other people involved in this affair too, involved much more deeply than Alyosha could have imagined before. There was something puzzling, something mysterious about it all. For instance, his other brother, Ivan, had made a warm gesture toward him, something Alyosha had been hoping for all this time; but now, for some reason or other, that friendly gesture frightened him. Then, those two women. When, a few hours earlier, he had set out to see Katerina—one of the two—he had been in a state of great embarrassment, but now, on his way to her house, he felt completely at ease. In fact, he was impatient to see her, as though hoping to obtain from her some indication of what he should do next. He realized, though, that it would be even more difficult to transmit Dmitry’s message to her now that Dmitry had given up all hope of paying her back the three thousand rubles. Since Dmitry felt disgraced and had no prospects of getting any money, Alyosha knew that his brother would do nothing to prevent himself from slipping lower and lower. And on top of it all, Dmitry had asked him to tell Katerina about the disgraceful scene in their father’s house.