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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/12144-0.txt b/12144-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..41d05d5 --- /dev/null +++ b/12144-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,14061 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12144 *** + +_THE CONTINENTAL CLASSICS_ + +VOLUME XVIII + +MYSTERY TALES + + +INCLUDING STORIES BY + +FEODOR MIKHAILOVITCH DOSTOYEVSKY + +JÖRGEN WILHELM BERGSÖE AND + +BERNHARD SEVERIN INGEMANN + + + +1909 + + + +_TABLE OF CONTENTS_ + + +RUSSIAN MYSTERY STORIES: + + ALEXANDER SERGEIEVITCH PUSHKIN - The Queen of Spades + + VERA JELIHOVSKY - The General's Will + + FEODOR MIKHAILOVITCH DOSTOYEVSKY - Crime and Punishment + + ANTON CHEKHOFF - The Safety Match + + VSEVOLOD VLADIMIROVITCH KRESTOVSKI - Knights of Industry + + JÖRGEN WILHELM BERGSÖE - The Amputated Arms + + OTTO LARSSEN - The Manuscript + + BERNHARD SEVERIN INGEMANN - The Sealed Room + + STEEN STEENSEN BLICHER - The Rector of Veilbye + + +HUNGARIAN MYSTERY STORIES: + + FERENCZ MOLNAR - The Living Death + + MAURUS JOKAI - Thirteen at Table + + ÉTIENNE BÁRSONY - The Dancing Bear + + ARTHUR ELCK - The Tower Room + + + + +_RUSSIAN MYSTERY STORIES_ + + +ALEXANDER SERGEIEVITCH PUSHKIN + + +_THE QUEEN OF SPADES_ + + +I + +There was a card party at the rooms of Naroumoff, of the Horse +Guards. The long winter night passed away imperceptibly, and it +was five o'clock in the morning before the company sat down to +supper. Those who had won ate with a good appetite; the others +sat staring absently at their empty plates. When the champagne +appeared, however, the conversation became more animated, and all +took a part in it. + +"And how did you fare, Souirin?" asked the host. + +"Oh, I lost, as usual. I must confess that I am unlucky. I play +mirandole, I always keep cool, I never allow anything to put me +out, and yet I always lose!" + +"And you did not once allow yourself to be tempted to back the +red? Your firmness astonishes me." + +"But what do you think of Hermann?" said one of the guests, +pointing to a young engineer. "He has never had a card in his +hand in his life, he has never in his life laid a wager; and yet +he sits here till five o'clock in the morning watching our play." + +"Play interests me very much," said Hermann, "but I am not in the +position to sacrifice the necessary in the hope of winning the +superfluous." + +"Hermann is a German; he is economical--that is all!" observed +Tomsky. "But if there is one person that I cannot understand, it +is my grandmother, the Countess Anna Fedorovna!" + +"How so?" inquired the guests. + +"I cannot understand," continued Tomsky, "how it is that my +grandmother does not punt." + +"Then you do not know the reason why?" + +"No, really; I haven't the faintest idea. But let me tell you the +story. You must know that about sixty years ago my grandmother went to +Paris, where she created quite a sensation. People used to run after +her to catch a glimpse of the 'Muscovite Venus.' Richelieu made love +to her, and my grandmother maintains that he almost blew out his +brains in consequence of her cruelty. At that time ladies used to play +at faro. On one occasion at the Court, she lost a very considerable +sum to the Duke of Orleans. On returning home, my grandmother removed +the patches from her face, took off her hoops, informed my grandfather +of her loss at the gaming-table, and ordered him to pay the money. My +deceased grandfather, as far as I remember, was a sort of +house-steward to my grandmother. He dreaded her like fire; but, on +hearing of such a heavy loss, he almost went out of his mind. He +calculated the various sums she had lost, and pointed out to her that +in six months she had spent half a million of francs; that neither +their Moscow nor Saratoff estates were in Paris; and, finally, refused +point-blank to pay the debt. My grandmother gave him a box on the ear +and slept by herself as a sign of her displeasure. The next day she +sent for her husband, hoping that this domestic punishment had +produced an effect upon him, but she found him inflexible. For the +first time in her life she entered into reasonings and explanations +with him, thinking to be able to convince him by pointing out to him +that there are debts and debts, and that there is a great difference +between a prince and a coachmaker. + +"But it was all in vain, my grandfather still remained obdurate. But +the matter did not rest there. My grandmother did not know what to do. +She had shortly before become acquainted with a very remarkable man. +You have heard of Count St. Germain, about whom so many marvelous +stories are told. You know that he represented himself as the +Wandering Jew, as the discoverer of the elixir of life, of the +philosopher's stone, and so forth. Some laughed at him as a charlatan; +but Casnova, in his memoirs, says that he was a spy. But be that as it +may, St. Germain, in spite of the mystery surrounding him, was a very +fascinating person, and was much sought after in the best circles of +society. Even to this day my grandmother retains an affectionate +recollection of him, and becomes quite angry if anyone speaks +disrespectfully of him. My grandmother knew that St. Germain had large +sums of money at his disposal. + +"She resolved to have recourse to him, and she wrote a letter to him +asking him to come to her without delay. The queer old man immediately +waited upon her, and found her overwhelmed with grief. She described +to him in the blackest colors the barbarity of her husband, and ended +by declaring that her whole hope depended upon his friendship and +amiability. + +"St. Germain reflected. + +"'I could advance you the sum you want,' said he, 'but I know that you +would not rest easy until you had paid me back, and I should not like +to bring fresh troubles upon you. But there is another way of getting +out of your difficulty: you can win back your money.' + +"'But, my dear Count,' replied my grandmother, 'I tell you that I +haven't any money left!' + +"'Money is not necessary,' replied St. Germain, 'be pleased to listen +to me.' + +"Then he revealed to her a secret, for which each of us would give a +good deal." + +The young officers listened with increased attention. Tomsky lit his +pipe, puffed away for a moment, and then continued: + +"That same evening my grandmother went to Versailles to the _jeu de la +reine_. The Duke of Orleans kept the bank; my grandmother excused +herself in an offhanded manner for not having yet paid her debt by +inventing some little story, and then began to play against him. She +chose three cards and played them one after the other; all three won +sonika,[1] and my grandmother recovered every farthing that she lost." + +"Mere chance!" said one of the guests. + +"A tale!" observed Hermann. + +"Perhaps they were marked cards!" said a third. + +"I do not think so," replied Tomsky, gravely. + +"What!" said Naroumoff, "you have a grandmother who knows how to hit +upon three lucky cards in succession, and you have never yet succeeded +in getting the secret of it out of her?" + +"That's the deuce of it!" replied Tomsky, "she had four sons, one of +whom was my father; all four were determined gamblers, and yet not to +one of them did she ever reveal her secret, although it would not have +been a bad thing either for them or for me. But this is what I heard +from my uncle, Count Ivan Hitch, and he assured me, on his honor, that +it was true. The late Chaplitsky--the same who died in poverty after +having squandered millions--once lost, in his youth, about three +hundred thousand roubles--to Zoritch, if I remember rightly. He was in +despair. My grandmother, who was always very severe upon the +extravagance of young men, took pity, however, upon Chaplitsky. She +gave him three cards telling him to play them one after the other, at +the same time exacting from him a solemn promise that he would never +play at cards again as long as he lived. Chaplitsky then went to his +victorious opponent, and they began a fresh game. On the first card he +staked fifty thousand roubles, and won sonika; he doubled the stake, +and won again; till at last, by pursuing the same tactics, he won back +more than he had lost." + +"But it is time to go to bed, it is a quarter to six already." And, +indeed, it was already beginning to dawn; the young men emptied their +glasses and then took leave of each other. + + +II + +The old Countess A---- was seated in her dressing-room in front of her +looking-glass. Three waiting maids stood around her. One held a small +pot of rouge, another a box of hairpins, and the third a tall cap with +bright red ribbons. The Countess had no longer the slightest +pretensions to beauty, but she still preserved the habits of her +youth, dressed in strict accordance with the fashion of seventy years +before, and made as long and as careful a toilette as she would have +done sixty years previously. Near the window, at an embroidery frame, +sat a young lady, her ward. + +"Good-morning, grandmamma," said a young officer, entering the room. +"_Bonjour_, Mademoiselle Lise. Grandmamma, I want to ask you +something." + +"What is it, Paul?" + +"I want you to let me introduce one of my friends to you, and to allow +me to bring him to the ball on Friday." + +"Bring him direct to the ball and introduce him to me there. Were you +at B----'s yesterday?" + +"Yes; everything went off very pleasantly, and dancing was kept up +until five o'clock. How charming Eletskaia was!" + +"But, my dear, what is there charming about her? Isn't she like her +grandmother, the Princess Daria Petrovna? By the way, she must be very +old, the Princess Daria Petrovna?" + +"How do you mean, old?" cried Tomsky, thoughtlessly, "she died seven +years ago." + +The young lady raised her head, and made a sign to the young officer. +He then remembered that the old Countess was never to be informed of +the death of her contemporaries, and he bit his lips. But the old +Countess heard the news with the greatest indifference. + +"Dead!" said she, "and I did not know it. We were appointed maids of +honor at the same time, and when we were presented to the Empress--" + +And the Countess for the hundredth time related to her grandson one of +her anecdotes. + +"Come, Paul," said she, when she had finished her story, "help me to +get up. Lizanka,[2] where is my snuffbox?" + +And the Countess with her three maids went behind a screen to finish +her toilette. Tomsky was left alone with the young lady. + +"Who is the gentleman you wish to introduce to the Countess?" asked +Lizaveta Ivanovna in a whisper. + +"Naroumoff. Do you know him?" + +"No. Is he a soldier or a civilian?" + +"A soldier." + +"Is he in the Engineers?" + +"No, in the Cavalry. What made you think that he was in the +Engineers?" + +The young lady smiled, but made no reply. + +"Paul," cried the Countess from behind the screen, "send me some new +novel, only pray don't let it be one of the present day style." + +"What do you mean, grandmother?" + +"That is, a novel, in which the hero strangles neither his father nor +his mother, and in which there are no drowned bodies. I have a great +horror of drowned persons." + +"There are no such novels nowadays. Would you like a Russian one?" + +"Are there any Russian novels? Send me one, my dear, pray send me +one!" + +"Good-by, grandmother. I am in a hurry.... Good-by, Lizaveta Ivanovna. +What made you think that Naroumoff was in the Engineers?" + +And Tomsky left the boudoir. + +Lizaveta Ivanovna was left alone. She laid aside her work, and began +to look out of the window. A few moments afterwards, at a corner house +on the other side of the street, a young officer appeared. A deep +flush covered her cheeks; she took up her work again, and bent her +head down over the frame. At the same moment the Countess returned, +completely dressed. + +"Order the carriage, Lizaveta," said she, "we will go out for a +drive." + +Lizaveta rose from the frame, and began to arrange her work. + +"What is the matter with you, my child, are you deaf?" cried the +Countess. "Order the carriage to be got ready at once." + +"I will do so this moment," replied the young lady, hastening into the +anteroom. + +A servant entered and gave the Countess some books from Prince Paul +Alexandrovitch. + +"Tell him that I am much obliged to him," said the Countess. +"Lizaveta! Lizaveta! where are you running to?" + +"I am going to dress." + +"There is plenty of time, my dear. Sit down here. Open the first +volume and read to me aloud." + +Her companion took the book and read a few lines. + +"Louder," said the Countess. "What is the matter with you, my child? +Have you lost your voice? Wait--Give me that footstool--a little +nearer--that will do!" + +Lizaveta read two more pages. The Countess yawned. + +"Put the book down," said she, "what a lot of nonsense! Send it back +to Prince Paul with my thanks.... But where is the carriage?" + +"The carriage is ready," said Lizaveta, looking out into the street. + +"How is it that you are not dressed?" said the Countess. "I must +always wait for you. It is intolerable, my dear!" + +Liza hastened to her room. She had not been there two minutes before +the Countess began to ring with all her might. The three waiting-maids +came running in at one door, and the valet at another. + +"How is it that you cannot hear me when I ring for you?" said the +Countess. "Tell Lizaveta Ivanovna that I am waiting for her." + +Lizaveta returned with her hat and cloak on. + +"At last you are here!" said the Countess. "But why such an elaborate +toilette? Whom do you intend to captivate? What sort of weather is it? +It seems rather windy." + +"No, your Ladyship, it is very calm," replied the valet. + +"You never think of what you are talking about. Open the window. So it +is; windy and bitterly cold. Unharness the horses, Lizaveta, we won't +go out--there was no need to deck yourself like that." + +"What a life is mine!" thought Lizaveta Ivanovna. + +And, in truth, Lizaveta Ivanovna was a very unfortunate creature. "The +bread of the stranger is bitter," says Dante, "and his staircase hard +to climb." But who can know what the bitterness of dependence is so +well as the poor companion of an old lady of quality? The Countess +A---- had by no means a bad heart, but she was capricious, like a +woman who had been spoiled by the world, as well as being avaricious +and egotistical, like all old people, who have seen their best days, +and whose thoughts are with the past, and not the present. She +participated in all the vanities of the great world, went to balls, +where she sat in a corner, painted and dressed in old-fashioned style, +like a deformed but indispensable ornament of the ballroom; all the +guests on entering approached her and made a profound bow, as if in +accordance with a set ceremony, but after that nobody took any further +notice of her. She received the whole town at her house, and observed +the strictest etiquette, although she could no longer recognize the +faces of people. Her numerous domestics, growing fat and old in her +antechamber and servants' hall, did just as they liked, and vied with +each other in robbing the aged Countess in the most bare-faced manner. +Lizaveta Ivanovna was the martyr of the household. She made tea, and +was reproached with using too much sugar; she read novels aloud to the +Countess, and the faults of the author were visited upon her head; she +accompanied the Countess in her walks, and was held answerable for the +weather or the state of the pavement. A salary was attached to the +post, but she very rarely received it, although she was expected to +dress like everybody else, that is to say, like very few indeed. In +society she played the most pitiable role. Everybody knew her, and +nobody paid her any attention. At balls she danced only when a partner +was wanted, and ladies would only take hold of her arm when it was +necessary to lead her out of the room to attend to their dresses. She +was very self-conscious, and felt her position keenly, and she looked +about her with impatience for a deliverer to come to her rescue; but +the young men, calculating in their giddiness, honored her with but +very little attention, although Lizaveta Ivanovna was a hundred times +prettier than the bare-faced, cold-hearted marriageable girls around +whom they hovered. Many a time did she quietly slink away from the +glittering, but wearisome, drawing-room, to go and cry in her own poor +little room, in which stood a screen, a chest of drawers, a +looking-glass, and a painted bedstead, and where a tallow candle burnt +feebly in a copper candle-stick. + +One morning--this was about two days after the evening party described +at the beginning of this story, and a week previous to the scene at +which we have just assisted--Lizaveta Ivanovna was seated near the +window at her embroidery frame, when, happening to look out into the +street, she caught sight of a young Engineer officer, standing +motionless with his eyes fixed upon her window. She lowered her head, +and went on again with her work. About five minutes afterwards she +looked out again--the young officer was still standing in the same +place. Not being in the habit of coquetting with passing officers, she +did not continue to gaze out into the street, but went on sewing for a +couple of hours, without raising her head. Dinner was announced. She +rose up and began to put her embroidery away, but glancing casually +out of the window, she perceived the officer again. This seemed to her +very strange. After dinner she went to the window with a certain +feeling of uneasiness, but the officer was no longer there--and she +thought no more about him. + +A couple of days afterwards, just as she was stepping into the +carriage with the Countess, she saw him again. He was standing close +behind the door, with his face half-concealed by his fur collar, but +his dark eyes sparkled beneath his cap. Lizaveta felt alarmed, though +she knew not why, and she trembled as she seated herself in the +carriage. + +On returning home, she hastened to the window--the officer was +standing in his accustomed place, with his eyes fixed upon her. She +drew back, a prey to curiosity, and agitated by a feeling which was +quite new to her. + +From that time forward not a day passed without the young officer +making his appearance under the window at the customary hour, and +between him and her there was established a sort of mute acquaintance. +Sitting in her place at work, she used to feel his approach, and, +raising her head, she would look at him longer and longer each day. +The young man seemed to be very grateful to her; she saw with the +sharp eye of youth, how a sudden flush covered his pale cheeks each +time that their glances met. After about a week she commenced to smile +at him.... + +When Tomsky asked permission of his grandmother, the Countess, to +present one of his friends to her, the young girl's heart beat +violently. But hearing that Naroumoff was not an Engineer, she +regretted that by her thoughtless question, she had betrayed her +secret to the volatile Tomsky. + +Hermann was the son of a German who had become a naturalized Russian, +and from whom he had inherited a small capital. Being firmly convinced +of the necessity of preserving his independence, Hermann did not touch +his private income, but lived on his pay, without allowing himself the +slightest luxury. Moreover, he was reserved and ambitious, and his +companions rarely had an opportunity of making merry at the expense of +his extreme parsimony. He had strong passions and an ardent +imagination, but his firmness of disposition preserved him from the +ordinary errors of young men. Thus, though a gamester at heart, he +never touched a card, for he considered his position did not allow +him--as he said--"to risk the necessary in the hope of winning the +superfluous," yet he would sit for nights together at the card table +and follow with feverish anxiety the different turns of the game. + +The story of the three cards had produced a powerful impression upon +his imagination, and all night long he could think of nothing else. +"If," he thought to himself the following evening, as he walked along +the streets of St. Petersburg, "if the old Countess would not reveal +her secret to me! If she would only tell me the names of the three +winning cards. Why should I not try my fortune? I must get introduced +to her and win her favor--become her lover.... But all that will take +time, and she is eighty-seven years old. She might be dead in a week, +in a couple of days even. But the story itself? Can it really be true? +No! Economy, temperance, and industry; those are my three winning +cards; by means of them I shall be able to double my capital--increase +it sevenfold, and procure for myself ease and independence." + +Musing in this manner, he walked on until he found himself in one of +the principal streets of St. Petersburg, in front of a house of +antiquated architecture. The street was blocked with equipages; +carriages one after the other drew up in front of the brilliantly +illuminated doorway. At one moment there stepped out onto the pavement +the well-shaped little foot of some young beauty, at another the heavy +boot of a cavalry officer, and then the silk stockings and shoes of a +member of the diplomatic world. Fur and cloaks passed in rapid +succession before the gigantic porter at the entrance. Hermann +stopped. "Whose house is this?" he asked of the watchman at the +corner. + +"The Countess A----'s," replied the watchman. + +Hermann started. The strange story of the three cards again presented +itself to his imagination. He began walking up and down before the +house, thinking of its owner and her strange secret. Returning late to +his modest lodging, he could not go to sleep for a long time, and when +at last he did doze off, he could dream of nothing but cards, green +tables, piles of banknotes, and heaps of ducats. He played one card +after the other, winning uninterruptedly, and then he gathered up the +gold and filled his pockets with the notes. When he woke up late the +next morning, he sighed over the loss of his imaginary wealth, and +then sallying out into the town, he found himself once more in front +of the Countess's residence. Some unknown power seemed to have +attracted him thither. He stopped and looked up at the windows. At one +of these he saw a head with luxuriant black hair, which was bent down, +probably over some book or an embroidery frame. The head was raised. +Hermann saw a fresh complexion, and a pair of dark eyes. That moment +decided his fate. + + +III + +Lizaveta Ivanovna had scarcely taken off her hat and cloak, when the +Countess sent for her, and again ordered her to get the carriage +ready. The vehicle drew up before the door, and they prepared to take +their seats. Just at the moment when two footmen were assisting the +old lady to enter the carriage, Lizaveta saw her Engineer standing +close beside the wheel; he grasped her hand; alarm caused her to lose +her presence of mind, and the young man disappeared--but not before he +had left a letter between her fingers. She concealed it in her glove, +and during the whole of the drive she neither saw nor heard anything. +It was the custom of the Countess, when out for an airing in her +carriage, to be constantly asking such questions as "Who was that +person that met us just now? What is the name of this bridge? What is +written on that sign-board?" On this occasion, however, Lizaveta +returned such vague and absurd answers, that the Countess became angry +with her. + +"What is the matter with you, my dear?" she exclaimed. "Have you taken +leave of your senses, or what is it? Do you not hear me or understand +what I say? Heaven be thanked, I am still in my right mind and speak +plainly enough!" + +Lizaveta Ivanovna did not hear her. On returning home she ran to her +room, and drew the letter out of her glove: it was not sealed. +Lizaveta read it. The letter contained a declaration of love; it was +tender, respectful, and copied word for word from a German novel. But +Lizaveta did not know anything of the German language, and she was +quite delighted. + +For all that, the letter caused her to feel exceedingly uneasy. For +the first time in her life she was entering into secret and +confidential relations with a young man. His boldness alarmed her. She +reproached herself for her imprudent behavior, and knew not what to +do. Should she cease to sit at the window, and, by assuming an +appearance of indifference towards him, put a check upon the young +officer's desire for further acquaintance with her? Should she send +his letter back to him, or should she answer him in a cold and decided +manner? There was nobody to whom she could turn in her perplexity, for +she had neither female friend nor adviser. At length she resolved to +reply to him. + +She sat down at her little writing table, took pen and paper, and +began to think. Several times she began her letter and then tore it +up; the way she had expressed herself seemed to her either too +inviting or too cold and decisive. At last she succeeded in writing a +few lines with which she felt satisfied. + +"I am convinced," she wrote, "that your intentions are honorable, and +that you do not wish to offend me by any imprudent behavior, but our +acquaintance must not begin in such a manner. I return you your +letter, and I hope that I shall never have any cause to complain of +this undeserved slight." + +The next day, as soon as Hermann made his appearance, Lizaveta rose +from her embroidery, went into the drawing-room, opened the +ventilator, and threw the letter into the street, trusting that the +young officer would have the perception to pick it up. + +Hermann hastened forward, picked it up, and then repaired to a +confectioner's shop. Breaking the seal of the envelope, he found +inside it his own letter and Lizaveta's reply. He had expected this, +and he returned home, his mind deeply occupied with his intrigue. + +Three days afterwards a bright-eyed young girl from a milliner's +establishment brought Lizaveta a letter. Lizaveta opened it with great +uneasiness, fearing that it was a demand for money, when, suddenly, +she recognized Hermann's handwriting. + +"You have made a mistake, my dear," said she. "This letter is not for +me." + +"Oh, yes, it is for you," replied the girl, smiling very knowingly. +"Have the goodness to read it." + +Lizaveta glanced at the letter. Hermann requested an interview. + +"It cannot be," she cried, alarmed at the audacious request and the +manner in which it was made. "This letter is certainly not for me," +and she tore it into fragments. + +"If the letter was not for you, why have you torn it up?" said the +girl. "I should have given it back to the person who sent it." + +"Be good enough, my dear," said Lizaveta, disconcerted by this remark, +"not to bring me any more letters for the future, and tell the person +who sent you that he ought to be ashamed." + +But Hermann was not the man to be thus put off. Every day Lizaveta +received from him a letter, sent now in this way, now in that. They +were no longer translated from the German. Hermann wrote them under +the inspiration of passion, and spoke in his own language, and they +bore full testimony to the inflexibility of his desire, and the +disordered condition of his uncontrollable imagination. Lizaveta no +longer thought of sending them back to him; she became intoxicated +with them, and began to reply to them, and little by little her +answers became longer and more affectionate. At last she threw out of +the window to him the following letter: + +"This evening there is going to be a ball at the Embassy. The Countess +will be there. We shall remain until two o'clock. You have now an +opportunity of seeing me alone. As soon as the Countess is gone, the +servants will very probably go out, and there will be nobody left but +the Swiss, but he usually goes to sleep in his lodge. Come about +half-past eleven. Walk straight upstairs. If you meet anybody in the +anteroom, ask if the Countess is at home. You will be told 'No,' in +which case there will be nothing left for you to do but to go away +again. But it is most probable that you will meet nobody. The +maidservants will all be together in one room. On leaving the +anteroom, turn to the left, and walk straight on until you reach the +Countess's bedroom. In the bedroom, behind a screen, you will find two +doors: the one on the right leads to a cabinet, which the Countess +never enters; the one on the left leads to a corridor, at the end of +which is a little winding staircase; this leads to my room." + +Hermann trembled like a tiger as he waited for the appointed time to +arrive. At ten o'clock in the evening he was already in front of the +Countess's house. The weather was terrible; the wind blew with great +violence, the sleety snow fell in large flakes, the lamps emitted a +feeble light, the streets were deserted; from time to time a sledge +drawn by a sorry-looking hack, passed by on the lookout for a belated +passenger. Hermann was enveloped in a thick overcoat, and felt neither +wind nor snow. + +At last the Countess's carriage drew up. Hermann saw two footmen carry +out in their arms the bent form of the old lady, wrapped in sable fur, +and immediately behind her, clad in a warm mantle, and with her head +ornamented with a wreath of fresh flowers, followed Lizaveta. The door +was closed. The carriage rolled heavily away through the yielding +snow. The porter shut the street door, the windows became dark. + +Hermann began walking up and down near the deserted house; at length +he stopped under a lamp, and glanced at his watch: it was twenty +minutes past eleven. He remained standing under the lamp, his eyes +fixed upon the watch impatiently waiting for the remaining minutes to +pass. At half-past eleven precisely Hermann ascended the steps of the +house and made his way into the brightly-illuminated vestibule. The +porter was not there. Hermann hastily ascended the staircase, opened +the door of the anteroom, and saw a footman sitting asleep in an +antique chair by the side of a lamp. With a light, firm step Hermann +passed by him. The drawing-room and dining-room were in darkness, but +a feeble reflection penetrated thither from the lamp in the anteroom. + +Hermann reached the Countess's bedroom. Before a shrine, which was +full of old images, a golden lamp was burning. Faded stuffed chairs +and divans with soft cushions stood in melancholy symmetry around the +room, the walls of which were hung with china silk. On one side of the +room hung two portraits painted in Paris by Madame Lebrun. One of +these represented a stout, red-faced man of about forty years of age, +in a bright green uniform, and with a star upon his breast; the +other--a beautiful young woman, with an aquiline nose, forehead curls, +and a rose in her powdered hair. In the corner stood porcelain +shepherds and shepherdesses, dining-room clocks from the workshop of +the celebrated Lefroy, bandboxes, roulettes, fans, and the various +playthings for the amusement of ladies that were in vogue at the end +of the last century, when Montgolfier's balloons and Niesber's +magnetism were the rage. Hermann stepped behind the screen. At the +back of it stood a little iron bedstead; on the right was the door +which led to the cabinet; on the left, the other which led to the +corridor. He opened the latter, and saw the little winding staircase +which led to the room of the poor companion. But he retraced his steps +and entered the dark cabinet. + +The time passed slowly. All was still. The clock in the drawing-room +struck twelve, the strokes echoed through the room one after the +other, and everything was quiet again. Hermann stood leaning against +the cold stove. He was calm, his heart beat regularly, like that of a +man resolved upon a dangerous but inevitable undertaking. One o'clock +in the morning struck; then two, and he heard the distant noise of +carriage-wheels. An involuntary agitation took possession of him. The +carriage drew near and stopped. He heard the sound of the carriage +steps being let down. All was bustle within the house. The servants +were running hither and thither, there was a confusion of voices, and +the rooms were lit up. Three antiquated chambermaids entered the +bedroom, and they were shortly afterwards followed by the Countess, +who, more dead than alive, sank into a Voltaire armchair. Hermann +peeped through a chink. Lizaveta Ivanovna passed close by him, and he +heard her hurried steps as she hastened up the little spiral +staircase. For a moment his heart was assailed by something like a +pricking of conscience, but the emotion was only transitory, and his +heart became petrified as before. + +The Countess began to undress before her looking-glass. Her +rose-bedecked cap was taken off, and then her powdered wig was removed +from off her white and closely cut hair. Hairpins fell in showers +around her. Her yellow satin dress, brocaded with silver, fell down at +her swollen feet. + +Hermann was a witness of the repugnant mysteries of her toilette; at +last the Countess was in her night-cap and dressing-gown, and in this +costume, more suitable to her age, she appeared less hideous and +deformed. + +Like all old people, in general, the Countess suffered from +sleeplessness. Having undressed, she seated herself at the window in a +Voltaire armchair, and dismissed her maids. The candles were taken +away, and once more the room was left with only one lamp burning in +it. The Countess sat there looking quite yellow, mumbling with her +flaccid lips and swaying to and fro. Her dull eyes expressed complete +vacancy of mind, and, looking at her, one would have thought that the +rocking of her body was not a voluntary action of her own, but was +produced by the action of some concealed galvanic mechanism. + +Suddenly the death-like face assumed an inexplicable expression. The +lips ceased to tremble, the eyes became animated: before the Countess +stood an unknown man. + +"Do not be alarmed, for Heaven's sake, do not be alarmed!" said he in +a low but distinct voice. "I have no intention of doing you any harm; +I have only come to ask a favor of you." + +The old woman looked at him in silence, as if she had not heard what +he had said. Hermann thought that she was deaf, and, bending down +towards her ear, he repeated what he had said. The aged Countess +remained silent as before. + +"You can insure the happiness of my life," continued Hermann, "and it +will cost you nothing. I know that you can name three cards in +order--" + +Hermann stopped. The Countess appeared now to understand what he +wanted; she seemed as if seeking for words to reply. + +"It was a joke," she replied at last. "I assure you it was only a +joke." + +"There is no joking about the matter," replied Hermann, angrily. +"Remember Chaplitsky, whom you helped to win." + +The Countess became visibly uneasy. Her features expressed strong +emotion, but they quickly resumed their former immobility. + +"Can you not name me these three winning cards?" continued Hermann. + +The Countess remained silent; Hermann continued: + +"For whom are you preserving your secret? For your grandsons? They are +rich enough without it, they do not know the worth of money. Your +cards would be of no use to a spendthrift. He who cannot preserve his +paternal inheritance will die in want, even though he had a demon at +his service. I am not a man of that sort. I know the value of money. +Your three cards will not be thrown away upon me. Come!" + +He paused and tremblingly awaited her reply. The Countess remained +silent. Hermann fell upon his knees. + +"If your heart has ever known the feeling of love," said he, "if you +remember its rapture, if you have ever smiled at the cry of your +new-born child, if any human feeling has ever entered into your +breast, I entreat you by the feelings of a wife, a lover, a mother, by +all that is most sacred in life, not to reject my prayer. Reveal to me +your secret. Of what use is it to you? May be it is connected with +some terrible sin, with the loss of eternal salvation, with some +bargain with the devil. Reflect, you are old, you have not long to +live--I am ready to take your sins upon my soul. Only reveal to me +your secret. Remember that the happiness of a man is in your hands, +that not only I, but my children and my grandchildren, will bless your +memory and reverence you as a saint." + +The old Countess answered not a word. + +Hermann rose to his feet. + +"You old hag!" he exclaimed, grinding his teeth, "then I will make you +answer!" With these words he drew a pistol from his pocket. At the +sight of the pistol, the Countess for the second time exhibited strong +emotions. She shook her head, and raised her hands as if to protect +herself from the shot. Then she fell backwards, and remained +motionless. + +"Come, an end to this childish nonsense!" said Hermann, taking hold of +her hand. "I ask you for the last time: will you tell me the names of +your three cards, or will you not?" + +The Countess made no reply. Hermann perceived that she was dead! + + +IV + +Lizaveta Ivanovna was sitting in her room, still in her ball dress, +lost in deep thought. On returning home, she had hastily dismissed the +chambermaid, who very reluctantly came forward to assist her, saying +that she would undress herself, and with a trembling heart had gone up +to her own room, expecting to find Hermann there, but yet hoping not +to find him. At the first glance he was not there, and she thanked her +fate for having prevented him keeping the appointment. She sat down +without undressing, and began to call to mind all the circumstances +which in a short time had carried her so far. It was not three weeks +since the time when she had first seen the young officer from the +window--and yet she was already in correspondence with him, and he had +succeeded in inducing her to grant him a nocturnal interview. She knew +his name only through his having written it at the bottom of some of +his letters; she had never spoken to him, had never heard his voice, +and had never heard him spoken of until that evening. But, strange to +say, that very evening at the ball, Tomsky, being piqued with the +young Princess Pauline N----, who, contrary to her usual custom, did +not flirt with him, wished to revenge himself by assuming an air of +indifference: he therefore engaged Lizaveta Ivanovna, and danced an +endless mazurka with her. During the whole of the time he kept teasing +her about her partiality for Engineer officers, he assured her that he +knew far more than she imagined, and some of his jests were so happily +aimed, that Lizaveta thought several times that her secret was known +to him. + +"From whom have you learned all this?" she asked, smiling. + +"From a friend of a person very well known to you," replied Tomsky, +"from a very distinguished man." + +"And whom is this distinguished man?" + +"His name is Hermann." Lizaveta made no reply, but her hands and feet +lost all sense of feeling. + +"This Hermann," continued Tomsky, "is a man of romantic personality. +He has the profile of a Napoleon, and the soul of a Mephistopheles. I +believe that he has at least three crimes upon his conscience. How +pale you have become!" + +"I have a headache. But what did this Hermann, or whatever his name +is, tell you?" + +"Hermann is very dissatisfied with his friend. He says that in his +place he would act very differently. I even think that Hermann himself +has designs upon you; at least, he listens very attentively to all +that his friend has to say about you." + +"And where has he seen me?" + +"In church, perhaps; or on the parade. God alone knows where. It may +have been in your room, while you were asleep, for there is nothing +that he--" + +Three ladies approaching him with the question: "oubli ou regret?" +interrupted the conversation, which had become so tantalizingly +interesting to Lizaveta. + +The lady chosen by Tomsky was the Princess Pauline herself. She +succeeded in effecting a reconciliation with him during the numerous +turns of the dance, after which he conducted her to her chair. On +returning to his place, Tomsky thought no more either of Hermann or +Lizaveta. She longed to renew the interrupted conversation, but the +mazurka came to an end, and shortly afterwards the old Countess took +her departure. + +Tomsky's words were nothing more than the customary small talk of the +dance, but they sank deep into the soul of the young dreamer. The +portrait, sketched by Tomsky, coincided with the picture she had +formed within her own mind, and, thanks to the latest romances, the +ordinary countenance of her admirer became invested with attributes +capable of alarming her and fascinating her imagination at the same +time. She was now sitting with her bare arms crossed, and with her +head, still adorned with flowers, sunk upon her uncovered bosom. +Suddenly the door opened and Hermann entered. She shuddered. + +"Where were you?" she asked in a terrified whisper. + +"In the old Countess's bedroom," replied Hermann. "I have just left +her. The Countess is dead." + +"My God! What do you say?" + +"And I am afraid," added Hermann, "that I am the cause of her death." + +Lizaveta looked at him, and Tomsky's words found an echo in her soul: +"This man has at least three crimes upon his conscience!" Hermann sat +down by the window near her, and related all that had happened. + +Lizaveta listened to him in terror. So all those passionate letters, +those ardent desires, this bold, obstinate pursuit--all this was not +love! Money--that was what his soul yearned for! She could not satisfy +his desire and make him happy. The poor girl had been nothing but the +blind tool of a robber, of the murderer of her aged benefactress! She +wept bitter tears of agonized repentance. Hermann gazed at her in +silence; his heart, too, was a prey to violent emotion, but neither +the tears of the poor girl, nor the wonderful charm of her beauty, +enhanced by her grief, could produce any impression upon his hardened +soul. He felt no pricking of conscience at the thought of the dead old +woman. One thing only grieved him: the irreparable loss of the secret +from which he had expected to obtain great wealth. + +"You are a monster!" said Lizaveta at last. + +"I did not wish for her death," replied Hermann, "my pistol was not +loaded." Both remained silent. The day began to dawn. Lizaveta +extinguished her candle, a pale light illumined her room. She wiped +her tear-stained eyes, and raised them towards Hermann. He was sitting +near the window, with his arms crossed, and with a fierce frown upon +his forehead. In this attitude he bore a striking resemblance to the +portrait of Napoleon. This resemblance struck Lizaveta even. + +"How shall I get you out of the house?" said she at last. "I thought +of conducting you down the secret staircase." + +"I will go alone," he answered. + +Lizaveta arose, took from her drawer a key, handed it to Hermann, and +gave him the necessary instructions. Hermann pressed her cold, inert +hand, kissed her bowed head, and left the room. + +He descended the winding staircase, and once more entered the +Countess's bedroom. The dead old lady sat as if petrified, her face +expressed profound tranquillity. Hermann stopped before her, and gazed +long and earnestly at her, as if he wished to convince himself of the +terrible reality. At last he entered the cabinet, felt behind the +tapestry for the door, and then began to descend the dark staircase, +filled with strange emotions. "Down this very staircase," thought he, +"perhaps coming from the very same room, and at this very same hour +sixty years ago, there may have glided, in an embroidered coat, with +his hair dressed _a l'oiseau royal_, and pressing to his heart his +three-cornered hat, some young gallant who has long been mouldering in +the grave, but the heart of his aged mistress has only today ceased to +beat." + +At the bottom of the staircase Hermann found a door, which he opened +with a key, and then traversed a corridor which conducted him into the +street. + + +V + +Three days after the fatal night, at nine o'clock in the morning, +Hermann repaired to the Convent of ----, where the last honors were to +be paid to the mortal remains of the old Countess. Although feeling no +remorse, he could not altogether stifle the voice of conscience, which +said to him: "You are the murderer of the old woman!" In spite of his +entertaining very little religious belief, he was exceedingly +superstitious; and believing that the dead Countess might exercise an +evil influence on his life, he resolved to be present at her obsequies +in order to implore her pardon. + +The church was full. It was with difficulty that Hermann made his way +through the crowd of people. The coffin was placed upon a rich +catafalque beneath a velvet baldachin. The deceased Countess lay +within it, with her hands crossed upon her breast, with a lace cap +upon her head, and dressed in a white satin robe. Around the +catafalque stood the members of her household; the servants in black +caftans, with armorial ribbons upon their shoulders and candles in +their hands; the relatives--children, grandchildren, and +great-grandchildren--in deep mourning. + +Nobody wept, tears would have been an affectation. The Countess was so +old that her death could have surprised nobody, and her relatives had +long looked upon her as being out of the world. A famous preacher +delivered the funeral sermon. In simple and touching words he +described the peaceful passing away of the righteous, who had passed +long years in calm preparation for a Christian end. "The angel of +death found her," said the orator, "engaged in pious meditation and +waiting for the midnight bridegroom." + +The service concluded amidst profound silence. The relatives went +forward first to take a farewell of the corpse. Then followed the +numerous guests, who had come to render the last homage to her who for +so many years had been a participator in their frivolous amusements. +After these followed the members of the Countess's household. The last +of these an old woman of the same age as the deceased. Two young women +led her forward by the hand. She had not strength enough to bow down +to the ground--she merely shed a few tears, and kissed the cold hand +of the mistress. + +Herman now resolved to approach the coffin. He knelt down upon the +cold stones, and remained in that position for some minutes; at last +he arose as pale as the deceased Countess herself; he ascended the +steps of the catafalque and bent over the corpse.... At that moment it +seemed to him that the dead woman darted a mocking look at him and +winked with one eye. Hermann started back, took a false step, and fell +to the ground. Several persons hurried forward and raised him up. At +the same moment Lizaveta Ivanovna was borne fainting into the porch of +the church. This episode disturbed for some minutes the solemnity of +the gloomy ceremony. Among the congregation arose a deep murmur, and a +tall, thin chamberlain, a near relative of the deceased, whispered in +the ear of an Englishman, who was standing near him, that the young +officer was a natural son of the Countess, to which the Englishman +coldly replied "Oh!" + +During the whole of that day Hermann was strangely excited. Repairing +to an out of the way restaurant to dine, he drank a great deal of +wine, contrary to his usual custom, in the hope of deadening his +inward agitation. But the wine only served to excite his imagination +still more. On returning home he threw himself upon his bed without +undressing, and fell into a deep sleep. + +When he woke up it was already night, and the moon was shining into +the room. He looked at his watch: it was a quarter to three. Sleep had +left him; he sat down upon his bed, and thought of the funeral of the +old Countess. + +At that moment somebody in the street looked in at his window and +immediately passed on again. Hermann paid no attention to this +incident. A few moments afterwards he heard the door of his anteroom +open. Hermann thought that it was his orderly, drunk as usual, +returning from some nocturnal expedition, but presently he heard +footsteps that were unknown to him: somebody was walking softly over +the floor in slippers. The door opened, and a woman dressed in white +entered the room. Hermann mistook her for his old nurse, and wondered +what could bring her there at that hour of the night. But the white +woman glided rapidly across the room and stood before him--and Hermann +thought he recognized the Countess. + +"I have come to you against my wish," she said in a firm voice, "but I +have been ordered to grant your request. Three, seven, ace, will win +for you if played in succession, but only on these conditions: that +you do not play more than one card in twenty-four-hours, and that you +never play again during the rest of your life. I forgive you my death, +on condition that you marry my companion, Lizaveta Ivanovna." + +With these words she turned round very quietly, walked with a +shuffling gait towards the door, and disappeared. Hermann heard the +street door open and shut, and again he saw someone look in at him +through the window. + +For a long time Hermann could not recover himself. He then rose up and +entered the next room. His orderly was lying asleep upon the floor, +and he had much difficulty in waking him. The orderly was drunk as +usual, and no information could be obtained from him. The street door +was locked. Hermann returned to his room, lit his candle, and wrote +down all the details of his vision. + + +VI + +Two fixed ideas can no more exist together in the moral world than two +bodies can occupy one and the same physical world. "Three, seven, ace" +soon drove out of Hermann's mind the thought of the dead Countess. +"Three, seven, ace" were perpetually running through his head, and +continually being repeated by his lips. If he saw a young girl, he +would say: "How slender she is; quite like the three of hearts." If +anybody asked "What is the time?" he would reply: "Five minutes to +seven." Every stout man that he saw reminded him of the ace. "Three, +seven, ace" haunted him in his sleep, and assumed all possible shapes. +The threes bloomed before him in the forms of magnificent flowers, the +sevens were represented by Gothic portals, and the aces became +transformed into gigantic spiders. One thought alone occupied his +whole mind--to make a profitable use of the secret which he had +purchased so dearly. He thought of applying for a furlough so as to +travel abroad. He wanted to go to Paris and tempt fortune in some +gambling houses that abounded there. Chance spared him all this +trouble. + +There was in Moscow a society of rich gamesters, presided over by the +celebrated Chekalinsky, who had passed all his life at the card table, +and had amassed millions, accepting bills of exchange for his +winnings, and paying his losses in ready money. His long experience +secured for him the confidence of his companions, and his open house, +his famous cook, and his agreeable and fascinating manners, gained for +him the respect of the public. He came to St. Petersburg. The young +men of the capital flocked to his rooms, forgetting balls for cards, +and preferring the emotions of faro to the seductions of flirting. +Naroumoff conducted Hermann to Chekalinsky's residence. + +They passed through a suite of rooms, filled with attentive domestics. +The place was crowded. Generals and Privy Counsellors were playing at +whist, young men were lolling carelessly upon the velvet-covered +sofas, eating ices and smoking pipes. In the drawing-room, at the head +of a long table, around which were assembled about a score of players, +sat the master of the house keeping the bank. He was a man of about +sixty years of age, of a very dignified appearance; his head was +covered with silvery white hair; his full, florid countenance +expressed good-nature, and his eyes twinkled with a perpetual smile. +Naroumoff introduced Hermann to him. Chekalinsky shook him by the hand +in a friendly manner, requested him not to stand on ceremony, and then +went on dealing. + +The game occupied some time. On the table lay more than thirty cards. +Chekalinsky paused after each throw, in order to give the players time +to arrange their cards and note down their losses, listened politely +to their requests, and more politely still, straightened the corners +of cards that some player's hand had chanced to bend. At last the game +was finished. Chekalinsky shuffled the cards, and prepared to deal +again. + +"Will you allow me to take a card?" said Hermann, stretching out his +hand from behind a stout gentleman who was punting. + +Chekalinsky smiled and bowed silently, as a sign of acquiescence. +Naroumoff laughingly congratulated Hermann on his abjuration of that +abstention from cards which he had practised for so long a period, and +wished him a lucky beginning. + +"Stake!" said Hermann, writing some figures with chalk on the back of +his card. + +"How much?" asked the banker, contracting the muscles of his eyes, +"excuse me, I cannot see quite clearly." + +"Forty-seven thousand roubles," replied Hermann. At these words every +head in the room turned suddenly round, and all eyes were fixed upon +Hermann. + +"He has taken leave of his senses!" thought Naroumoff. + +"Allow me to inform you," said Chekalinsky, with his eternal smile, +"that you are playing very high; nobody here has ever staked more than +two hundred and seventy-five roubles at once." + +"Very well," replied Hermann, "but do you accept my card or not?" + +Chekalinsky bowed in token of consent. + +"I only wish to observe," said he, "that although I have the greatest +confidence in my friends, I can only play against ready money. For my +own part I am quite convinced that your word is sufficient, but for +the sake of the order of the game, and to facilitate the reckoning up, +I must ask you to put the money on your card." + +Hermann drew from his pocket a bank-note, and handed it to +Chekalinsky, who, after examining it in a cursory manner, placed it on +Hermann's card. + +He began to deal. On the right a nine turned up, and on the left a +three. + +"I have won!" said Hermann, showing his card. + +A murmur of astonishment arose among the players. Chekalinsky frowned, +but the smile quickly returned to his face. "Do you wish me to settle +with you?" he said to Hermann. + +"If you please," replied the latter. + +Chekalinsky drew from his pocket a number of banknotes and paid at +once. Hermann took up his money and left the table. Naroumoff could +not recover from his astonishment. Hermann drank a glass of lemonade +and returned home. + +The next evening he again repaired to Chekalinsky's. The host was +dealing. Hermann walked up to the table; the punters immediately made +room for him. Chekalinsky greeted him with a gracious bow. + +Hermann waited for the next deal, took a card and placed upon it his +forty-seven thousand roubles, together with his winnings of the +previous evening. + +Chekalinsky began to deal. A knave turned up on the right, a seven on +the left. + +Hermann showed his seven. + +There was a general exclamation. Chekalinsky was evidently ill at +ease, but he counted out the ninety-four thousand roubles and handed +them over to Hermann, who pocketed them in the coolest manner +possible, and immediately left the house. + +The next evening Hermann appeared again at the table. Everyone was +expecting him. The generals and privy counsellors left their whist in +order to watch such extraordinary play. The young officers quitted +their sofas, and even the servants crowded into the room. All pressed +round Hermann. The other players left off punting, impatient to see +how it would end. Hermann stood at the table, and prepared to play +alone against the pale, but still smiling Chekalinsky. Each opened a +pack of cards. Chekalinsky shuffled. Hermann took a card and covered +it with a pile of bank-notes. It was like a duel. Deep silence reigned +around. + +Chekalinsky began to deal, his hands trembled. On the right a queen +turned up, and on the left an ace. + +"Ace has won!" cried Hermann, showing his card. + +"Your queen has lost," said Chekalinsky, politely. + +Hermann started; instead of an ace, there lay before him the queen of +spades! He could not believe his eyes, nor could he understand how he +had made such a mistake. + +At that moment it seemed to him that the queen of spades smiled +ironically, and winked her eye at him. He was struck by her remarkable +resemblance.... + +"The old Countess!" he exclaimed, seized with terror. Chekalinsky +gathered up his winnings. For some time Hermann remained perfectly +motionless. When at last he left the table, there was a general +commotion in the room. + +"Splendidly punted!" said the players. Chekalinsky shuffled the cards +afresh, and the game went on as usual. + + * * * * * + +Hermann went out of his mind, and is now confined in room number +seventeen of the Oboukhoff Hospital. He never answers any questions, +but he constantly mutters with unusual rapidity: "Three, seven, ace! +Three, seven, queen!" + +Lizaveta Ivanovna has married a very amiable young man, a son of the +former steward of the old Countess. He is in the service of the State +somewhere, and is in receipt of a good income. Lizaveta is also +supporting a poor relative. + +Tomsky has been promoted to the rank of captain, and has become the +husband of the Princess Pauline. + + +FOOTNOTES OF _THE QUEEN OF SPADES_: + +[1: Said of a card when it wins or loses in the quickest possible +time.] + +[2: Diminutive of Lizaveta (Elizabeth).] + + + +VERA JELIHOVSKY + + +_THE GENERAL'S WILL_ + + +I + +It happened in winter, just before the holidays. Ivan Feodorovitch +Lobnitchenko, the lawyer, whose office is in one of the main streets +of St. Petersburg, was called hurriedly to witness the last will and +testament of one at the point of death. The sick man was not strictly +a client of Ivan Feodorovitch; under other circumstances, he might +have refused to make this late call, after a day's heavy toil ... but +the dying man was an aristocrat and a millionaire, and such as he meet +no refusals, whether in life, or, much more, at the moment of death. + +Lobnitchenko, taking a secretary and everything necessary, with a sigh +scratched himself behind the ear, and thrusting aside the thought of +the delightful evening at cards that awaited him, set out to go to the +sick man. + +General Iuri Pavlovitch Nasimoff was far gone. Even the most +compassionate doctors did not give him many days to live, when he +finally decided to destroy the will which he had made long ago, not in +St. Petersburg, but in the provincial city where he had played the +Tsar for so many years. The general had come to the capital for a +time, and had lain down--to rise no more. + +This was the opinion of the physicians, and of most of those about +him; the sick man himself was unwilling to admit it. He was a +stalwart-hearted and until recently a stalwart-bodied old man, tall, +striking, with an energetic face, and a piercing, masterful glance, +hard to forget, even if you saw him only once. + +He was lying on the sofa, in a richly furnished hotel suite, +consisting of three of the best rooms. He received the lawyer gayly +enough. He himself explained the circumstances to him, though every +now and then compelled to stop by a paroxysm of pain, with difficulty +repressing the groans which almost escaped him, in spite of all his +efforts. During these heavy moments, Ivan Feodorovitch raised his eyes +buried in fat to the sick man's face, and his plump little features +were convulsed in sympathy with the sufferer's pain. As soon as the +courageous old man, fighting hard with the paroxysms of pain, had got +the better of them, taking his hands from his contorted face, and +drawing a painful breath, he began anew to explain his will. +Lobnitchenko dropped his eyes again and became all attention. + +The general explained in detail to the lawyer. He had been married +twice, and had three children, a son and a daughter from his first +marriage, who had long ago reached adultship, and a nine-year-old +daughter from his second marriage. His second wife and daughter he +expected every day; they were abroad, but would soon return. His elder +daughter would also probably come. + +The lawyer was not acquainted with Nazimoff's family; indeed he had +never before seen the general, though, like all Russia, he knew of him +by repute. But judging from the tone of contempt or of pity with which +he spoke of his second wife or her daughter, the lawyer guessed at +once that the general's home life was not happy. The further +explanations of the sick man convinced him of this. A new will was to +be drawn up, directly contrary to the will signed six years before, +which bequeathed to his second wife, Olga Vseslavovna, unlimited +authority over their little daughter, and her husband's entire +property. In the first will he had left nearly everything, with the +exception of the family estate, which he did not feel justified in +taking from his son, to his second wife and her daughter. Now he +wished to restore to his elder children the rights which he had +deprived them of, and especially to his eldest daughter, Anna Iurievna +Borissova, who was not even mentioned in the first will. In the new +will, with the exception of the seventh part, the widow's share, he +divided the whole of his land and capital between his children +equally; and he further appointed a strict guardianship over the +property of his little daughter, Olga Iurievna. + +The will was duly arranged, drawn up and witnessed, and after the +three witnesses had signed it, it was left, by the general's wish, in +his own keeping. + +"I will send it to you to take care of," he said to the lawyer. "It +will be safer in your hands than here, in my temporary quarters. But +first I wish to read it to my wife, and ... to my eldest daughter ... +if she arrives in time." + +The lawyer and the priest, who was one of the witnesses, were already +preparing to take leave of the general, when voices and steps were +heard in the corridor; a footman's head appeared through the door, +calling the doctor hurriedly forth. It appeared that the general's +lady had arrived suddenly, without letting anyone know by telegram +that she was coming. + +The doctor hastily slipped out of the room; he feared the result of +emotion on the sick man, and wished to warn the general's wife of his +grave danger, but the sick man noticed the move, and it was impossible +to guard him against disturbance. + +"What is going on there?" he asked. "What are you mumbling about, +Edouard Vicentevitch? Tell me what is the matter? Is it my daughter?" + +"Your excellency, I beg of you to take care of yourself!" the doctor +was beginning, evidently quite familiar with the general's family +affairs, and therefore dreading the meeting of husband and wife. "It +is not Anna Iurievna...." + +"Aha!" the sick man interrupted him; "she has come? Very well. Let her +come in. Only the little one ... I don't wish her to come ... to-day." + +Suffering was visible in his eyes, this time not bodily suffering. + +The door opened, with the rustling of a silk dress. A tall, +well-developed, and decidedly handsome woman appeared on the +threshold. She glanced at the pain-stricken face, which smiled +contemptuously toward her. In a moment she was beside the general, +kneeling beside him on the carpet, bending close to him, and pressing +his hand, as she repeated in a despairing whisper: + +"Oh, Georges! Georges! Is it really you, my poor friend?" + +It would be hard to define the expression of rapidly changing emotions +which passed over the sick man's face, which made his breast heave, +and his great heart quiver and tremble painfully. Displeasure and +pity, sympathy and contempt, anger and grief, all were expressed in +the short, sharp, bitter laugh, and the few words which escaped his +lips when he saw his little daughter timidly following her mother into +his room. + +"Do not teach her to lie!" and he nodded toward the child, and turned +toward the wall, with an expression of pain and pity on his face. The +lawyer and the priest hastened to take their leave and disappear. + +"Ah! Sinners! sinners!" muttered the latter, as he descended the +stairs. + +"Things are not in good shape between them?" asked Lobnitchenko. "They +don't get on well together?" + +"How should they be in good shape, when he came here to get a +divorce?" whispered the priest, shaping his fur cap. "But God decided +otherwise. Even without a divorce, he will be separated forever from +his wife!" + +"I don't believe he is so very far gone. He is a stalwart old man. +Perhaps he will pull through," went on the man of law. + +"God's hand is over all," answered the priest, shrugging his +shoulders. And so they went their different ways. + + +II + +"Olga!" cried the sick man, without turning round, and feeling near +him the swift movement of his wife, he pushed her away with an +impatient movement of his hand, and added, "Not you! my daughter +Olga!" + +"Olga! Go, my child, papa is calling you," cried the general's wife in +a soft voice, in French, to the little girl, who was standing +undecidedly in the center of the room. + +"Can you not drop your foreign phrases?" angrily interrupted the +general. "This is not a drawing-room! You might drop it, from a sense +of decency." + +His voice became shrill, and made the child shudder and begin to cry. +She went to him timidly. + +The general looked at her with an expression of pain. He drew her +toward him with his left hand, raising the right to bless her. + +"In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit!" he +whispered, making the sign of the cross over her. "God guard you from +evil, from every bad influence.... Be kind ... honest ... most of all, +be honest! Never tell lies. God guard you from falsehood, from lying, +even more than from sorrow!" + +Tears filled the dying man's eyes. Little Olga shuddered from head to +foot; she feared her father, and at the same time was so sorry for +him. But pity got the upper hand. She clung to him, wetting him with +her tears. Her father raised his hand, wishing to make the sign of the +cross once more over the little head which lay on his breast, but +could not complete the gesture. His hand fell heavily, his face was +once more contorted with pain; he turned to those who stood near him, +evidently avoiding meeting his wife's eyes, and whispered: + +"Take her away. It is enough. Christ be with her!" And for a moment he +collected strength to place his hand on the child's head. + +The doctor took the little girl by the hand, but her mother moved +quickly toward her. + +"Kiss him! Kiss papa's hand!" she whispered, "bid him good-by!" + +The general's wife sobbed, and covered her face with her handkerchief, +with the grand gesture of a stage queen. The sick man did not see +this. At the sound of her voice he frowned and closed his eyes tight, +evidently trying not to listen. The doctor led the little girl away to +another room and gave her to her governess. + +When he came back to the sick man the general, lying on the sofa, +still in the same position, and without looking at his wife who stood +beside his pillow, said to her: + +"I expect my poor daughter Anna, who has suffered so much injustice +through you.... I have asked her to forgive me. I shall pray her to be +a mother to her little sister.... I have appointed her the child's +guardian. She is good and honest ... she will teach the child no evil. +And this will be best for you also. You are provided for. You will +find out from the new will. You could not have had any profit from +being her guardian. If Anna does not consent to take little Olga to +live with her, and to educate her with her own children, as I have +asked her, Olga will be sent to a school. You will prefer liberty to +your daughter; it will be pleasanter for you. Is it not so?" + +Contempt and bitter irony were perceptible in his voice. His wife did +not utter a syllable. She remained so quiet that it might have been +thought she did not even hear him, but for the convulsive movement of +her lips, and of the fingers of her tightly clasped hands. + +The doctor once more made a movement to withdraw discreetly, but the +general's voice stopped him. "Edouard Vicentevitch? Is he here?" + +"I am here, your excellency," answered the doctor, bending over the +sick man. "Would not your excellency prefer to be carried to the bed? +It will be more comfortable lying down." + +"More comfortable to die?" sharply interrupted the general. "Why do +you drivel? You know I detest beds and blankets. Drop it! Here, take +this," and he gave him a sheet of crested paper folded in four, which +was lying beside him. "Read it, please. Aloud! so that she may know." + +He turned his eyes toward his wife. The doctor unwillingly began his +unpleasant task. He was a man of fine feeling, and although he had no +very high opinion of the general's wife, still she was a woman. And a +beautiful woman. He would have preferred that she should learn from +someone else how many of the pleasures of life were slipping away from +her, in virtue of the new will. But there was nothing for it but to do +as he was ordered. It was always hard to oppose Iuri Pavlovitch; now +it was quite impossible. + +Olga Vseslavovna listened to the reading of the will with complete +composure. She sat motionless, leaning back in an armchair, with +downcast eyes, and only showing her emotion when her husband was no +longer able to stifle a groan. Then she turned toward him her pale, +beautiful face, with evident signs of heartfelt sympathy, and was even +rising to come to his assistance. The sick man impatiently refused her +services, significantly turning his eyes toward the doctor, who was +reading his last will and testament, as though he would say: "Listen! +Listen! It concerns you." + +It did concern her, without a doubt. General Nazimoff's wife learned +that, instead of an income of a hundred thousand a year, which she had +had a right to expect, she could count only on a sum sufficient to +keep her from poverty; what in her opinion was a mere pittance. + +The doctor finished reading, coughing to hide his confusion, and +slowly folded the document. + +"You have heard?" asked the general, in a faint, convulsive voice. + +"I have heard, my friend," quietly answered his wife. + +"You have nothing to say?" + +"What can I say? You have a right to dispose of what belongs to +you.... But ... still I...." + +"Still you what?" sharply asked her husband. + +"Still, I hope, my friend, that this is not your last will...." + +General Nazimoff turned, and even made an effort to raise himself on +his elbow. + +"God willing, you will recover. Perhaps you will decide more than once +to make other dispositions of your property," calmly continued his +wife. + +The sick man fell back on the pillows. + +"You are mistaken. Even if I do not die, you will not be able to +deceive me again. This is my last will!" he replied convulsively. + +And with trembling hand he gave the doctor a bunch of keys. + +"There is the dispatch box. Please open it, and put the will in." + +The doctor obeyed his wish, without looking at Olga Vseslavovna. She, +on her part, did not look at him. Shrugging her shoulders at her +husband's last words, she remained motionless, noticing nothing except +his sufferings. His sufferings, it seemed, tortured her. + +Meanwhile the dying man followed the doctor with anxious eyes, and as +soon as the latter closed the large traveling dispatch box he +stretched out his hand to him for the keys. + +"So long as I am alive, I will keep them!" he murmured, putting the +bunch of keys away in his pocket. "And when I am dead, I intrust them +to you, Edouard Vicentevitch. Take care of them, as a last service to +me!" And he turned his face once more to the wall. + +"And now, leave me alone! The pain is less. Perhaps I shall go to +sleep. Leave me!" + +"My friend! Permit me to remain near you," the general's wife began, +bending tenderly over her husband. + +"Go!" he cried sharply. "Leave me in peace, I tell you!" + +She rose, trembling. The doctor hastily offered her his arm. She left +the room, leaning heavily on him, and once more covering her face with +her handkerchief, in tragic style. + +"Be calm, your excellency!" whispered the doctor sympathetically, only +half conscious of what he was saying. + +"These rooms have been prepared for you. You also need to rest, after +such a long journey." + +"Oh, I am not thinking about myself. I am so sorry for him. Poor, +poor, senseless creature. How much I have suffered at his hands. He +was always so suspicious, so hard to get on with. And whims and +fantasies without end. You know, doctor, I have sometimes even thought +he was not in full possession of his faculties." + +"Hm!" murmured the doctor, coughing in confusion. + +"Take this strange change of his will, for instance," the general's +wife continued, not waiting for a clearer expression of sympathy. +"Take his manner toward me. And for what reason?" + +"Yes, it is very sad," murmured the doctor. + +"Tell me, doctor, does he expect his son and daughter?" + +"Only his daughter, Anna Iurievna. She promised to come, with her +oldest children. A telegram came yesterday. We have been expecting her +all day." + +"What is the cause of this sudden tenderness? They have not seen each +other for ten years. Does he expect her husband, too? His son-in-law, +the pedagogue?" contemptuously asked the general's wife. + +"No! How could he come? He could not leave his service. And his son, +too, Peter Iurevitch, he cannot come at once. He is on duty, in +Transcaspia. It is a long way." + +"Yes, it is a long way!" assented the general's wife, evidently busy +with other thoughts. "But tell me, Edouard Vicentevitch, this new +will, has it been written long?" + +"It was drawn up only to-day. The draft was prepared last week, but +the general kept putting it off. But when his pains began this +morning...." + +"Is it the end? Is it dangerous?" interrupted Olga Vseslavovna. + +"Very--a very bad sign. When they began, Iuri Pavlovitch sent at once +for the lawyer. He was still here when you arrived." + +"Yes. And the old will, which he made before, has been destroyed?" + +"I do not know for certain. But I think not. Oh, no, I forgot. The +general was going to send a telegram." + +"Yes? to send a telegram?" + +The general's wife shrugged her shoulders, sadly shook her head, and +added: + +"He is so changeable! so changeable! But I think it is all the same. +According to law, only the last will is valid?" + +"Yes, without doubt; the last." + +The general's wife bowed her head. + +"What hurts me most," she whispered, with a bitter smile, bending +close to the young doctor, and leaning heavily on his arm, "what hurts +me most, is not the money. I am not avaricious. But why should he take +my child away from me? Why should he pass over her own mother, and +intrust her to her half-sister? A woman whom I do not know, who has +not distinguished herself by any services or good actions, so far as I +know. I shall not submit. I shall contest the will. The law must +support the right of the mother. What do you think, doctor?" + +The doctor hastily assented, though, to tell the truth, he was not +thinking of anything at the moment, except the strange manner in which +the general's wife, while talking, pressed close to her companion. + +At that moment a bell rang, and the general's loud voice was heard: + +"Doctor! Edouard Vicentevitch!" + +"Coming!" answered the doctor. + +And leaving Olga Vseslavovna at the threshold of her room, he ran +quickly to the sick man. + +"A vigorous voice--for a dying man! He shouts as he used to at the +manoeuvers!" thought the general's wife. + +And her handsome face at once grew dark with the hate which stole over +it. This was only a passing expression, however; it rapidly gave place +to sorrow, when she saw the manservant coming from the sick man. + +"What is the matter with your master, Yakov? Is he worse?" + +"No, madam. God has been gracious. He told me to push the box nearer +him, and ordered Edouard Vicentevitch to open it. He wants to send +some telegram or other." + +"Thank God, he is not worse. Yakov, I am going to send a telegram to +the station myself, in a few minutes, by my coachman. You can give him +the general's telegram, too." + +"Very well, madam." + +"And another thing. I shall not go to bed. If there is any change in +your master's condition, Yakov, come and knock at my door at once. I +beg of you, tell me the very moment anything happens. Here is +something for you, Yakov;--you have grown thin, waiting upon your +master!" + +"I thank you most humbly, your excellency. We must not grudge our +exertions," the man answered, putting a note of considerable value in +his pocket. + + +III + +Contrary to expectation, the night passed quietly enough. Emotion and +weariness claimed their own; Olga Vseslavovna, in spite of all her +efforts, fell into a sleep toward morning; and when she awoke, she +started in dismay, noticing that the sun had already climbed high in +the sky, and was pouring into her room. + +Her maid, a deft Viennese, who had remained with this accommodating +mistress for five years, quieted her by telling her that the master +was better, that he was still asleep, not having slept for the greater +part of the night. + +"The doctor and Yakov were busy with him most of the night," she +explained. "They were sorting all sorts of papers; some of them they +tied up, writing something on them; others they tore up, or threw into +the fire. The grate is full of ashes. Yakov told me." + +"And there were no more telegrams?" + +"No, madam, there were no more. Yakov and our Friedrich would have let +me know at once; I was there in the anteroom; they both kept coming +through on errands." + +"But there were no more telegrams, except the two that were sent +last night." + +Olga Vseslavovna dressed, breakfasted, and went to her husband. But at +the threshold of his room she was stopped by the direction of the sick +man to admit no one without special permission except the doctor, or +his eldest daughter, if she should come. + +"Tell Edouard Vicentevitch to come out to me," ordered the general's +wife. The doctor was called, and in great confusion confirmed the +general's orders. + +"But perhaps he did not think that such an order could apply to me?" +she said, astonished. + +The doctor apologized, but had to admit that it was she who was +intended, and that his excellency had sent word to her excellency that +she should not give herself the trouble of visiting him. + +"He is out of his mind," declared the general's wife quietly, but with +conviction, shrugging her shoulders. "Why should he hate me so--for +all my love to him, an old man, who might have been my father?" + +And Olga Vseslavovna once more took refuge in her pocket handkerchief, +this time, instead of tears, giving vent to sobs of vexation. The +doctor, always shy in the presence of women, stood with hanging head +and downcast eyes, as though he were to blame. + +"What is it they are saying about you burning papers all night?" Olga +Vseslavovna asked, in a weak voice. + +"Oh, not nearly all night. Iuri Pavlovitch remembered that he ought to +destroy some old letters and papers. There were some to be put in +order. There, in the box, there is a packet addressed to your +excellency. I was told to write the address." + +"Indeed! Could I not see it?" + +"Oh no, on no account. They are all locked up in the box along with +the last will. And the general has the keys." + +A bitter smile of humiliation played about the young woman's lips. + +"So the new will has not been burned yet?" she asked. + +And to the startled negative of the doctor, who repeated that "it was +lying on the top of the papers in the box," she added: + +"Well, it will be burned yet. Do not fear. Especially if God in His +mercy prolongs my husband's life. You see, he has always had a +mysterious passion for writing new documents, powers of attorney, +deeds of gift, wills, whatever comes into his mind. He writes new +ones, and burns the old ones. But what can you do? We must submit to +each new fancy. We cannot contradict a sick man." + +Olga Vseslavovna went back to her room. She only left her bedroom for +a few minutes that day, to hear the final word of the lights of the +medical profession, who had come together for a general consultation +in the afternoon; all the rest of the day she shut herself up. The +conclusions of the physicians, though they differed completely in +detail, were similar in the main, and far from comforting; the life +and continued suffering of the sick man could not last more than a few +days. + +In the evening a telegram came from Anna Iurievna; she informed her +father that she would be with him on the following day, at five in the +afternoon. + +"Shall I be able to hold out? Shall I last so long?" sighed the sick +man, all day long. And the more he was disturbed in mind, the more +threatening were his attacks of pain. He passed a bad night. Toward +morning a violent attack, much worse than any that had gone before, +almost carried him away. He could hardly breathe, owing to the sharp +suffering. Hot baths for his hands and steam inhalations no longer had +any beneficial effect, though they had alleviated his pain hitherto. + +The doctor, the Sister of Mercy, and the servant wore themselves out. +But still, as before, his wife alone was not admitted to him. She +raged with anger, trying, and not without success, to convince +everyone that she was going mad with despair. Little Olga had been +taken away on the previous day by a friend of the general's, to stay +there "during this terrible time." That night Madame Nazimoff did not +go to bed at all; and, as befitted a devoted wife, did not quit her +husband's door. When the violent attack just before dawn quieted down, +she made an attempt to go in to him; but no sooner did the sick man +see her at the head of his couch, on which he had at last been +persuaded to lie, than strong displeasure was expressed in his face, +and, no longer able to speak, he made an angry motion of his hand +toward her, and groaned heavily. The Sister of Mercy with great +firmness asked the general's wife not to trouble the sick man with her +presence. + +"And I am to put up with this. I am to submit to all this?" thought +Olga Vseslavovna, writhing with wrath. "To endure all this from him, +and after his death to suffer beggary? No, a thousand times no! Better +death than penury and such insults." And she fell into gloomy thought. + +That gesture of displeasure at the sight of his wife was the last +conscious act of Iuri Pavlovitch Nazimoff. At eight in the morning he +lost consciousness, in the midst of violent suffering, which lasted +until the end. By the early afternoon he was no more. + +During the last hour of his agony his wife knelt beside his couch +without let or hindrance, and wept inconsolably. The formidable +aristocrat and millionaire was dead. + +Everything went on along the usual lines. The customary stir and +unceremonious bustle, instead of cautious whispering, rose around the +dead body, in preparation for a fashionable funeral. No near relatives +were present except his wife, and she was confined to her room, +half-fainting, half-hysterical. All responsibility fell on the humble +doctor, and he busied himself indefatigably, conscientiously, in the +sweat of his brow, making every effort to omit nothing. But, as always +happens, he omitted the most important thing of all. The early +twilight was already descending on St. Petersburg, shrouded in chilly +mist, when Edouard Vicentevitch Polesski struck his brow in despair; +he had suddenly remembered the keys and the box, committed to his care +by the dying man. At that moment, the body, dressed in full uniform, +with all his regalia, was lying in the great, darkened room on a +table, covered with brocade, awaiting the coffin and the customary +wreaths. The doctor rushed into the empty bedroom. Everything in it +was already in order; the bed stood there, without mattress or +pillows. There was nothing on the dressing table, either. + +Where were the keys? Where was the box? The box was standing as +before, untouched, locked. His heart at once felt lighter. But the +keys? No doubt the police would come in a few minutes. It was +astonishing that they had not come already. They would seal +everything. Everything must be in order. Where was Yakov? Probably he +had taken them. Or ... the general's wife? + +Polesski rushed to look for the manservant, but could not find him. +There was so much to do; he had gone to buy something, to order +something. "Oh Lord! And the announcement?" he suddenly remembered. It +must be written at once, and sent to the newspapers. He must ask the +general's wife, however, what words he should use. However much he +might wish to avoid her, still she was now the most important person. +And he could ask at the same time whether she had seen the keys. + +The doctor went to the rooms of the general's wife. She was lying +down, suffering severely, but she came out to him. "What words was he +to use? It was all the same to her. 'With deep regret,' 'with +heartfelt sorrow,' what did she care? The keys? What keys? No! she had +not seen any keys, and did not know where they were. But why should he +be disturbed about them? The servants were trustworthy; nothing would +go astray." + +"Yes, but we must have them ready for the police. They will come in a +few minutes, to seal up the dead man's papers!" + +"To seal up the papers? Why?" + +"That is the law. So that everything should be intact, until after the +last will and testament of the deceased has been read, according to +his wishes." + +General Nazimoff's wife paled perceptibly. She knew nothing of such an +obstacle, and had not expected it. The doctor was too busy to notice +her pallor. + +"Very well; I shall write the announcement at once, and send it to the +newspapers. I suppose 'Novoe Vremya' and 'Novosti' will be enough?" + +"Do as you think best. Write it here, in my room. Here is everything +you require; pens, paper. Write, and then read it to me. I shall be +back in a moment. I want to put a bandage round my head. It aches so. +Wait for me here." And the general's wife went from the sitting-room +to her bedroom. + +"Rita!" she whispered to her faithful maid, who was hurriedly sewing a +mourning gown of crape for her. "Do not let the doctor go till I +return. Do you understand? Do what you please, but do not let him go." +The general's wife slipped from the bedroom into the passage through a +small side door, and disappeared. + +The two rooms between hers and the chamber where the dead man lay were +quite empty and nearly dark; there were no candles in them. From the +chamber came the feeble glimmer of the tiny lamps burning before the +icons.[Sacred images.] The tapers were not lit yet, as the deacon had +not yet arrived. He was to come at the same time as the priest and the +coffin. For the moment there was no one near the dead man; in the +anteroom sat the Sister of Mercy. + +"You wish to pray?" she asked the general's wife. + +"Yes, I shall pray there, in his room." + +She slipped past the dead body without looking at it, to the room that +had been the general's bedroom, and closed the door behind her. She +was afraid to lock it, and after all, was it necessary? It would only +take a moment. There it is, the box! She knows it of old! And she +knows its key of old, too; it is not so long since her husband had no +secrets from her. + +The key was quickly slipped into the lock, and the lid rose quickly. +The paper? That new, detestable paper, which might deprive her of +everything. Ah! there it is! + +To close the lid quickly, and turn the key in the lock; to hide the +keys somewhere; here, between the seat and the back of the sofa, on +which he lay. That's it! + +A sigh of relief from fear escaped the beautiful lips of the handsome +woman, lips which were pale through those terrible days. She could +feel secure at last! + +She must look at the document, the proof of his cruelty, his +injustice, his stupidity! She must make sure that there was no +mistake! Olga Vseslavovna went up to the window, and taking advantage +of the last ray of the gray day, unfolded the will. + +"In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit!" she read. +Yes, that is it, the will. + +"How he pronounced those same words, when he was blessing little +Olga," she remembered. "Blessing her! And his hand did not tremble, +when he signed this. To deprive her, to deprive them both, of +everything, all on account of those hated people? But now--it should +never be! On no account! Your down-at-the-heel pedagogue shall not +strut about in peacock's feathers! Olga and I ... require the money +more!" + +And the general's wife was tempted to snap her fingers in triumph in +the direction of the dead man. + +Suddenly, quite close to the door, the sound of steps was heard. Good +heavens! And she held the big sheet of crested paper in her hand! +Where could she put it? She had no time to think of folding it up. +There! they are coming in already! Who can it be? + +And the will lay on the floor, the general's wife kneeling on it, as +on a prayer carpet, in an attitude of prayer, her clasped hands on the +window sill, her wet eyes fixed on a faintly twinkling star, as though +calling heaven to witness her inconsolable grief and bereavement. + +It was only the Sister of Mercy. + +"Madam, the people have come, bringing the coffin; and I think the +police have also come." + +"Yes, in a moment. Tell them I am coming immediately." + +The Sister of Mercy went out. + +"See how she loved her husband. And why was he so unjust to her at the +last?" she involuntarily reproached the dead general. + +Meanwhile the general's wife had risen hastily, folded the will as +best she could, in four, in eight folds, and crushing it together in +her hand, went quietly from the room, which now filled her with dread. + +She was so confused that she did not even think of looking for her +pocket; she simply held her packet tight, and let her hand hang down, +hiding it in the folds of her wide dressing-gown. There seemed to be +so many people in the room which a moment before was empty, that she +felt cowed. Her heart beat pitilessly, and the blood throbbed so +violently in her temples that she could not understand what was said +to her. They were asking her if they might place the body in the +coffin, which had already been placed beside it. Her silence was taken +as consent. The skilful undertakers easily lifted the already rigid +body. + +Olga Vseslavovna stood at the head of the dead general. Among the +crowd of undertakers and servants, she suddenly saw coming toward her, +with outstretched hand, and with tears of compassion in her eyes, the +Princess Ryadski, the same aristocratic kinswoman who had already +taken little Olga to stay with her. + +"I must shake hands with her! And that horrible packet is in my hand! +Where shall I put it? How can I hide it?" Before her eyes gleamed the +brilliantly lighted, ashen forehead of the dead man, helplessly bent +backward and sideways, as the whole body was suspended in the hands of +the undertakers, over its last abode. + +A saving thought! + +The general's wife bent gently over the dead body. She gently +supported the head of the corpse, gently laid it on the satin cushion, +straightened the frills which surrounded the hard pillow, and, +unperceived, left under it the twisted roll of paper. + +"It will be safer there!" The thought flashed through her mind. "He +wanted to keep his will himself; well, keep it to eternity, now! What +more can you ask?" + +And it even seemed ludicrous to her. She could hardly restrain a smile +of triumph, changing it into a sad smile of grief, in reply to her +kinswoman's condolences. The coffin was already lying in state on the +bier; it was covered with brocade and flowers. The princess, as +kinswoman of the late general, bent low, and first laid on the dead +body the wreath she had brought with her. + +"The poor sufferer has entered into rest," she whispered, shaking her +head. "Will the funeral service be soon? Where will it be? Where is +Olga Vseslavovna?" + +"She will be here in a moment," the Sister of Mercy whispered, deeply +affected; "she has gone to fix herself. They will begin the funeral +service in a few minutes, and she is all in disorder. She is in great +grief. Will you not take a seat?" + +"What? Sit down? Thank you," loftily replied the princess. And she +went toward a dignified personage who was entering, adorned with many +orders and an aristocratic beard. + +The general's wife soon came to herself. "Rita! I must wash and dress +as quickly as possible. Ah! pray forgive me, doctor! They called me +away to my husband. They were placing him in the coffin." She sighed +deeply. "What is this? Oh, yes, the announcement of his death. Very +good. Send it, please. But I must dress at once. The funeral service +will begin immediately." + +"Doctor! Is the doctor here?" an anxious voice sounded in the +corridor. + +"I am coming! What is it?" + +"Please come quick, Edouard Vicentevitch!" Yakov called him. "The lady +is very ill downstairs; Anna Iurievna, the general's daughter! I was +out to order the flowers; I come back, and see the lady lying in a +faint in the entrance. She had just arrived, and asked; and they +answered her that he was dead, without the slightest preparation! And +she could not bear it, and fainted." + +Yakov said all this as they went. + +"Actress!" angrily thought Olga Vseslavovna. And immediately she added +mentally, "Well, she may stand on her head now, it is all the same to +me!" + + +IV + +Whether it was all the same to her or not, the deep despair of the +daughter, who had not been in time to bid her father farewell, had not +been in time to receive his blessing, after many years of anger, which +had borne heavily on the head of the blameless young woman, was so +evidently sincere, and produced such a deep impression on everyone, +that her stepmother also was moved. + +Anna Iurievna resembled her father, as much as a young, graceful, +pretty woman can resemble an elderly man with strongly-marked features +and athletic frame, such as was General Nazimoff. But in spite of the +delicacy of her form, and the gentleness of her eyes, her glance +sometimes flashed fire in a manner very like the flashing eyes of her +father, and in her strong will, firm character, and inflexible +adherence to what she believed to be necessary and right, Anna was +exactly like her father. + +For nearly ten years his daughter had obediently borne his anger; from +the day of her marriage to the man she loved, whom evil-minded people +had succeeded in calumniating in the general's mind. Though writing +incessantly to him, begging him to pardon her, to understand that he +had made a mistake, that her husband was a man of honor, and that she +would be fully and perfectly happy, but for the burden of her father's +wrath, and of the separation from him, she had never until the last +few weeks received a reply from him. But quite recently something +mysterious had happened. Not only had her father written to her that +he wished to see her and her children in St. Petersburg, whither he +was just setting out, but a few days later he had written again, a +long, tender letter, in which he had asked her forgiveness. Without +giving any explanations, he said that he had received indubitable +proofs of the innocence and chivalrous honor of her husband; that he +felt himself deeply guilty toward him, and was miserable on account of +the injustice he had committed. In the following letters, praying his +daughter to hasten her coming, because he was dangerously ill, and the +doctors thought could not last long, he filled her with astonishment +by expressing his intention to make a new will, and his determination +to separate his youngest daughter "from such a mother," and by his +prayers to her and her husband not to refuse to take upon themselves +little Olga's education. + +"What had happened? How could that light-minded woman have so deeply +wounded my father?" Anna asked in bewilderment. + +"If she was merely light-minded!" her husband answered, shrugging his +shoulders. "But she is so malicious, so crafty, and so daring that +anything may be expected from her." + +"But in that case there would be an open scandal. We would know +something for certain. Nowadays they even relate such stories in the +newspapers, and my father is so well known, so noteworthy!" + +"That is just why they don't write about him!" answered Borisoff, her +husband, smiling. He himself flatly refused to go to St. Petersburg. +With horror he remembered the first year of his marriage, before he +had succeeded in obtaining a transfer to another city, and was +compelled to meet the woman he detested; compelled also to meet his +father-in-law, a wise and honorable old man, who had fallen so +completely into the toils of this crafty woman. Anna Iurievna knew +that her husband despised her stepmother; that he detested her as the +cause of all the grief which they had had to endure through her, and +most of all, on account of the injustice she was guilty of toward her +brother, the general's son. + +For six years Borisoff had lived with young Peter Nazimoff, as his +tutor and teacher, and loved him sincerely. The boy had already +reached the highest class at school, when his sister, two years older +than he, finished her schooling, and returned to her father's house, +about the time of the general's second marriage. What the young tutor +tried not to notice and to endure, for love of his pupil, in the first +year of the general's second marriage, became intolerable when the +general's daughter returned home, and to all the burden of his +difficult position was added the knowledge of their mutual love. He +proceeded frankly, and the whole matter was soon settled. But the +young man had never uttered a syllable as to the cause of Madame +Nazimoff's hatred for him. For the sake of his father-in-law's peace +of mind, he sincerely hoped that he would never know. Anna was +convinced that the whole cause of her step-mother's hostility was her +prejudice against what was in her opinion a _mesalliance_. In part she +was right, but the chief reason of this hostility remained forever a +secret to her. Unfortunately, it was not equally a secret to her +father. + +Of late years he had gradually been losing faith in his second wife's +character. It went so far that the general felt much more at ease when +she was away. Before the last illness of Iuri Pavlovitch, which, to +tell the truth, was almost his first, Olga Vseslavovna had gone abroad +with her daughter, intending to travel for a year; but she had hardly +been gone two months when the general unexpectedly determined to go to +St. Petersburg to seek a divorce, to see his elder daughter, and +change his will. Perhaps he would never have determined on such +decisive measures had not something wholly unexpected taken place. + +Borisoff was quite mistaken in thinking that he had so carefully +destroyed all the letters which the general's young wife had written +to him, before his marriage to Anna, that no material evidence of Olga +Vseslavovna's early design of treachery remained. Even before she +married the general, she had had a confidential servant, who carried +out many commissions for the beautiful young woman, whose fame had +gone abroad through the three districts along the Volga, the arena of +her early triumphs. Later, the young lady found a new favorite in +foreign lands--the same Rita who was still with her. Martha, the +Russian confidential servant, heartily detested the German girl, and +such strife arose between them that not only the general's wife, but +even the general himself, was deprived of peace and tranquillity. +Martha was no fool; Olga Vseslavovna had to be careful with her; she +did take care, but she herself did not know to what an extent she was +in the woman's power. Foreseeing a black day of ingratitude, Martha, +with wonderful forethought, had put on one side one or two letters +from each series of her mistress' secret correspondence, which always +passed through her hands. Perhaps she would not have made such a bad +use of them but for her mistress' last, intolerable insult. Prizing in +her servants, next to swift obedience, a knowledge of languages, her +mistress did not make use of her when travelling abroad; but hitherto +she had taken both servants with her. But on her last journey she was +so heartily tired of Martha, and her perpetual tears and quarrels, +that she determined to get on without her, the more so that her +daughter's governess was also traveling with her. Her company was +growing too numerous. + +There was no limit to Martha's wrath when she learned that she was +going to be left behind. Her effrontery was so great that she advised +her mistress "for her own sake" not to put such an affront upon her, +since she would not submit to it without seeking revenge. But her +mistress never dreamed of what Martha was planning, and what a risk +she ran. + +Hardly had the general's wife departed when Martha asked the general +to let her leave, saying she would find work elsewhere. The general +saw no way of keeping her; and he did not even wish to do so, thinking +her only a quarrelsome, ill-tempered woman. The confidential servant +left the house, and even the city. And immediately her revenge and +torture of the general began, cutting straight at the root of his +happiness, his health, even his life. He began to receive, almost +daily, letters from different parts of Russia, for Martha had plenty +of friends and chums. With measureless cruelty Martha began by sending +the less important documents, still signed with her mistress' maiden +name; then two or three letters from the series of the most recent +times, and finally there came a whole packet of those sent by the +general's wife to the tutor, in the first year of her marriage with +the general, before Borisoff had met Anna. + +The crafty Martha, knowing perfectly the whole state of affairs to +which these letters referred, often copied out their contents, and +kept the letters themselves concealed, saying to herself, "God knows +what may turn up, some day! + +"If they are no use, I can burn them. But they may be useful. It is +always a good thing to keep our masters in our power," argued the +sagacious woman, and she was not mistaken in her calculations, +although these letters served not for her profit, but only for a +sanguinary revenge. + +These notes and letters, which finally opened his eyes to the true +character of his wife, and his own crying injustice to his elder +children, were now lying in the general's dispatch box, in a neatly +tied packet, directed in the doctor's handwriting to "Her Excellency +Olga Vseslavovna Nazimoff." + +As soon as she received her father's first letter Anna began to get +ready to go to St. Petersburg, but unfortunately she was kept back by +the sickness, first of one child, then of another. But for his last +telegrams, she would not have started even now, because she did not +realize the dangerous character of his illness. But now, finding that +she had come too late, the unhappy woman could not forgive herself. + +Everyone was grieved to see her bitter sorrow, after the funeral +service for her father. Princess Ryadski burst into tears, as she +looked at her; and all the acquaintances and relations of the general +were far more disturbed by her despair than by the general's death. +Olga Vseslavovna was secretly scandalized at such lack of +self-control, but outwardly she seemed greatly touched and troubled by +the situation of her poor stepdaughter. But she did not venture to +express her sympathy too openly in the presence of others, remembering +the words of "the crazy creature" when she had come to herself after +her fainting fit, and her stepmother had hurried up to embrace her. + +"Leave me!" Anna had cried, when she saw her. "I cannot bear to see +you! You killed my father!" + +It was well that there were only servants in the ante-room. But the +general's wife did not wish to risk another such scene, now that so +many people were present. And besides she was extremely disturbed; the +friends who had come to the funeral service had brought flowers; and +the half-crazy princess, with the aid of two other ladies, had taken a +fancy to decorate the coffin, and especially the head, with them. It +is impossible to describe what Olga Vseslavovna suffered, as she +watched all those hands moving about among the folds of the muslin, +the frills, the covering, almost under the satin cushion even; a +little more and she would have fainted in earnest. + +She had always boasted that she had strong nerves, and this was quite +true; nevertheless, during these days, their strength was evidently +giving way, as she could not get to sleep for a long time that night, +and heaven only knows what fancies passed through her mind. It was +almost morning before Olga Vseslavovna got to sleep, and even then it +was not for long. + +She dreamed that she was descending endless stairs and dark corridors, +with a heavy, shapeless burden on her shoulders. A bright, +constantly-changing flame flickered before her; now red, now yellow, +now green, it flitted before her from side to side. She knew that if +she could reach it, the burden would fall from her. But the light +seemed to be taunting her, now appearing, now disappearing, and +suddenly going out altogether. And she found herself in the darkness, +in a damp cellar, seemingly empty, but filled with something's +invisible presence. What was it? She did not know. But this pervading +something frightened her terribly, smothered her, pressing on her from +all sides, depriving her of air. She was choking! Terror seized her at +the thought that it ... was Death! Must she die? Was it possible? But +that brightly shining light had just promised her life, gayety, +brilliance! She must hurry to overtake it. And she tried to run. But +her feet would not obey her; she could not move. + +"Heaven! Heaven!" she cried, "but what is it? Whence has such a +disaster come? What is holding me? Let me go, or I shall be smothered +in this stench, under this intolerable burden!" + +Suddenly Iuri Pavlovitch walked past her. She immediately recognized +him, and joyfully caught at his cloak. "Iuri! Forgive me! Help me!" +she cried. + +Her husband stopped, looked sadly at her, and answered: "I would +gladly help you, but you yourself hinder me. Let me go; I must fulfill +your directions." + +At that moment she awoke. She was bathed in a cold perspiration, and +clutched wildly at the coverlet with both hands. There was no one near +her, but she clearly felt someone's presence, and was convinced that +she had really seen her husband a moment before. In her ears resounded +his words: "I must fulfill your directions!" Directions? What +directions? + +She sprang up, and began to feel about over the carpet with her bare +feet, looking for her slippers. A terrible thought had come into her +mind. She felt that she must settle it at once. She must take the +will, take it away from there! burn it! destroy it! She feverishly +drew on her dressing gown, and threw a shawl over her shoulders. + +"Rita! Get up quick! Quick! Come!" + +The frightened maid rose, still half asleep, and rubbed her eyes, +understanding nothing. Her mistress' ice-cold hands clutched her, and +dragged her somewhere. + +"Ach lieber Gott ... Gott in Himmel!" she muttered. "What has +happened? What do you want?" + +"Hush! Come quick!" And Olga Vseslavovna, with a candle in her +trembling hand, went forward, dragging the trembling Rita with her. +She opened the door of her bedroom, and went out. All the doors were +open _en suite_, and straight in front of her, in the center of the +fourth, shone the coffin of her husband, covered with cloth of gold +and lit up by the tall tapers standing round the bier. + +"What does it mean?" whispered the general's wife. "Why have they +opened all the doors?" + +"I do not know ... they were all closed last night," murmured the maid +in reply, her teeth chattering with fear. She longed to ask her +mistress whither they were going, and what for? She wanted to stop, +and not enter the funeral chamber; but she was afraid to speak. + +They passed quickly through the rooms; at the door of the last the +general's wife set her candle down on a chair, and halted for a +moment. The loud snoring of the reader startled them both. + +"It is the deacon!" whispered the general's wife reassuringly. Rita +had hardly strength to nod assent. All the same, the healthy snoring +of a living man comforted her. Without moving from where she stood, +the maid tremblingly drew her woolen shawl closer about her, trying to +see the sofa on which the deacon lay. + +Knitting her brows, and biting her lips till they were sore, Olga +Vseslavovna went forward determinedly to the bier. She thrust both +hands under the flowers on the pillow. The frill was untouched. The +satin of the cushion was there, but where was ...? Her heart, that had +been beating like a hammer, suddenly stopped and stood still. There +was not a trace of the will! + +"Perhaps I have forgotten. Perhaps it was on the other side," thought +Olga Vseslavovna, and went round to the left side of the coffin. + +No! It was not there, either! Where was it? Who could have taken it? +Suddenly her heart failed her utterly, and she clutched at the edge of +the coffin to keep herself from falling. It seemed to her that under +the stiff, pallid, rigidly clasped hands of the dead general something +gleamed white through the transparent muslin of the covering, +something like a piece of paper. + +"Nonsense! Self-suggestion! It is impossible! Hallucination!" The +thought flashed through her tortured brain. She forced herself to be +calm, and to look again. + +Yes! She had not been mistaken. The white corner of a folded paper +appeared clearly against the general's dark uniform. At the same +moment a cold draught coming from somewhere set the tapers flickering. +Shadows danced around the room, over the bier, across the dead man's +face; and in the quick change of light and shadow it seemed to her +that the rigid features became more living, that a mournful smile +formed itself on the closed lips, that the tightly-shut eyelids +quivered. A wild cry rang through the whole room. With a desperate +shriek: "His eyes! He is looking at me!" the general's wife staggered +forward and fell fainting to the floor, beside her husband's bier. + + +V + +The deacon sprang from his sofa with a cry, and an answering cry came +from the lips of the shivering Rita, as she fled from the room. +Servants rushed in, rubbing their eyes, still half-asleep, questioning +each other, running this way and that. The deacon, spurred by a +feeling of guilt, was determined to conceal the fact that he was +sleeping. "It was the lady!" he said. "She came in to pray; she told +me to stop reading while she prayed. She knelt down. Then she prayed +for a long time, and suddenly ... suddenly she cried out, and fainted. +Grief, brothers! It is terrible! To lose such a husband!" and he set +them to work with restoratives, himself rubbing the fallen woman's +chilly hands. + +The general's wife opened her eyes after a few minutes. + +Looking wildly round in bewilderment, she seemed to be wondering where +she was and how she had come there. Suddenly she remembered. + +"The will! In his hands! Take it!" she cried, and fainted again. By +this time the whole household was awake. Anna Iurievna had come in, +full of astonishment at the sudden disturbance, but with the same +feeling of deep quiet and peace still filling her heart and giving her +features an expression of joy and calm. She heard the cry of the +general's wife, and the words were recorded in her mind, though she +did not at first give them any meaning. + +She set herself, with all the tenderness of a good woman, to minister +to the other's need, sending her own maid for sal volatile, chafing +the fainting woman's hands, and giving orders that a bed should be +prepared for her in another room, further away from the bier. As she +spoke, quietly, gravely, with authority, the turmoil gradually +subsided. The frightened servants recovered themselves, and moved +about with the orderly obedience they ordinarily showed; and the +deacon, above all anxious to cover his negligence, began intoning the +liturgy, lending an atmosphere of solemnity to the whole room. + +The servants, returning to announce that the bedroom was ready, were +ordered by Anna Iurievna to lift the fainting woman with all care and +gentleness, and she herself went with them to see the general's wife +safely bestowed in her room, and waited while the doctor did all in +his power to make her more comfortable. Olga Vseslavovna did not at +once recover consciousness. She seemed to pass from a faint into an +uneasy slumber, which, however, gradually became more quiet. + +Only then, as she was leaving the room, did Anna Iurievna bethink her +of the strange words that had fallen on her ears: "The will! In his +hands! Take it!" And repeating them questioningly to herself, she +walked slowly back toward the room in which lay her father's body. + +But she was even more occupied with her own thoughts. She no longer +felt in her heart the bitter resentment toward Olga Vseslavovna that +had filled it yesterday. She was conscious of a feeling of sorrow for +the helpless woman, of compassion for her empty, shallow life, the +fruit of an empty, shallow heart. And she was wondering why such +empty, joyless lives should exist in a world where there was such deep +happiness and joy. + +She came over to her father's coffin, close to which the deacon was +still droning out his liturgy, and stood beside the dead body, looking +down at the strong, quiet face, and vividly recalling her dream of the +night before. Her eyes rested on the many stars and medals on his +breast, and on his hands, quietly clasped in death. Then suddenly, and +quite mechanically, Olga Vseslavovna's cry, as she returned to +consciousness, came back into her mind: + +"The will! In his hands! Take it!" And bending down, she noted for the +first time something white beneath the muslin canopy. As she +scrutinized it wonderingly, she was conscious of an humble, apologetic +voice murmuring something at her elbow: + +"Forgive me, Anna Iurievna. I humbly beg you, forgive me! It was I ... +in the night ... the flowers fell .... I was putting them back ... +fixing the head of your sainted papa .... It was under his head, the +paper ... I thought he wanted to keep it .... I put it in his hands, +to be safe! ... Forgive me, Anna Iurievna, if I have done any harm." + +It was the deacon, still oppressed by a feeling of guilt. Anna. +Iurievna turned to him, and then turned back again, to her father's +body, to the white object shining under the muslin canopy. And once +more Olga Vseslavovna's words came into her mind: + +"The will! In his hands! Take it!" + +Gently raising the canopy, she softly drew the paper from beneath the +general's clasped hands, and unfolded it. She read no more than the +opening words, but she had read enough to realize that it was, indeed, +her father's will. + + + +FEODOR MIKHAILOVITCH DOSTOYEVSKY + + +_CRIME AND PUNISHMENT_[1] + + +One sultry evening early in July a young man emerged from the small +furnished lodging he occupied in a large five-storied house in the +Pereoulok S----, and turned slowly, with an air of indecision, toward +the K----bridge. He was fortunate enough not to meet his landlady on +the stairs. She occupied the floor beneath him, and her kitchen, with +its usually open door, was entered from the staircase. Thus, whenever +the young man went out, he found himself obliged to pass under the +enemy's fire, which always produced a morbid terror, humiliating him +and making him knit his brows. He owed her some money and felt afraid +of encountering her. + +It was not that he had been terrified or crushed by misfortune, but +that for some time past he had fallen into a state of nervous +depression akin to hypochondria. He had withdrawn from society and +shut himself up, till he was ready to shun, not merely his landlady, +but every human face. Poverty had once weighed him down, though, of +late, he had lost his sensitiveness on that score. He had given up all +his daily occupations. In his heart of hearts he laughed scornfully at +his landlady and the extremities to which she might proceed. Still, to +be waylaid on the stairs, to have to listen to all her jargon, hear +her demands, threats, and complaints, and have to make excuses and +subterfuges in return--no, he preferred to steal down without +attracting notice. On this occasion, however, when he had gained the +street, he felt surprised himself at this dread of meeting the woman +to whom he was in debt. + +"Why should I be alarmed by these trifles when I am contemplating such +a desperate deed?" thought he, and he gave a strange smile. "Ah, well, +man holds the remedy in his own hands, and lets everything go its own +way, simply through cowardice--that is an axiom. I should like to know +what people fear most:--whatever is contrary to their usual habits, I +imagine. But I am talking too much. I talk and so I do nothing, though +I might just as well say, I do nothing and so I talk. I have acquired +this habit of chattering during the last month, while I have been +lying for days together in a corner, feeding my mind on trifles. Come, +why am I taking this walk now? Am I capable of _that_? Can _that_ +really be serious? Not in the least. These are mere chimeras, idle +fancies that flit across my brain!" + +The heat in the streets was stifling. The crowd, the sight of lime, +bricks, scaffolding, and the peculiar odor so familiar to the nostrils +of the inhabitant of St. Petersburg who has no means of escaping to +the country for the summer, all contributed to irritate the young +man's already excited nerves. The reeking fumes of the dram shops, so +numerous in this part of the city, and the tipsy men to be seen at +every point, although it was no holiday, completed the repulsive +character of the scene. Our hero's refined features betrayed, for a +moment, an expression of bitter disgust. We may observe casually that +he was not destitute of personal attractions; he was above middle +height, with a slender and well-proportioned figure, and he had dark +auburn hair and fine dark eyes. In a little while he sank into a deep +reverie, or rather into a sort of mental torpor. He walked on without +noticing, or trying to notice, his surroundings. Occasionally he +muttered a few words to himself; as if, as he himself had just +perceived, this had become his habit. At this moment it dawned upon +him that his ideas were becoming confused and that he was very feeble; +he had eaten nothing worth mentioning for the last two days. + +His dress was so miserable that anyone else might have scrupled to go +out in such rags during the daytime. This quarter of the city, indeed, +was not particular as to dress. In the neighborhood of the Cyennaza or +Haymarket, in those streets in the heart of St. Petersburg, occupied +by the artisan classes, no vagaries in costume call forth the least +surprise. Besides the young man's fierce disdain had reached such a +pitch, that, notwithstanding his extreme sensitiveness, he felt no +shame at exhibiting his tattered garments in the street. He would have +felt differently had he come across anyone he knew, any of the old +friends whom he usually avoided. Yet he stopped short on hearing the +attention of passers-by directed to him by the thick voice of a tipsy +man shouting: "Eh, look at the German hatter!" The exclamation came +from an individual who, for some unknown reason, was being jolted away +in a great wagon. The young man snatched off his hat and began to +examine it. It was a high-crowned hat that had been originally bought +at Zimmermann's, but had become worn and rusty, was covered with dents +and stains, slit and short of a brim, a frightful object in short. Yet +its owner, far from feeling his vanity wounded, was suffering rather +from anxiety than humiliation. + +"I suspected this," muttered he, uneasily, "I foresaw it. That's the +worst of it! Some wretched trifle like this might spoil it all. Yes, +this hat is certainly too remarkable; it looks so ridiculous. I must +get a cap to suit my rags; any old thing would be better than this +horror. Hats like these are not worn; this one would be noticeable a +_verst_[2] off; it would be remembered; people would think of it again +some time after, and it might furnish a clew. I must attract as little +attention as possible just now. Trifles become important, everything +hinges on them." + +He had not far to go; he knew the exact distance between his lodging +and present destination--just seven hundred and thirty paces. He had +counted them when his plan only floated through his brain like a vague +dream. At that time, he himself would not have believed it capable of +realization; he merely dallied in fancy with a chimera which was both +terrible and seductive. But a month had elapsed, and he had already +begun to view it in a different light. Although he reproached himself +throughout his soliloquies with irresolution and a want of energy, he +had accustomed himself, little by little, and, indeed, in spite of +himself, to consider the realization of his dream a possibility, +though he doubted his own resolution. He was but just now rehearsing +his enterprise, and his agitation was increasing at every step. + +His heart sank, and his limbs trembled nervously, as he came to an +immense pile of building facing the canal on one side and the street +on the other. This block was divided into a host of small tenements, +tenanted by all sorts of trades. People were swarming in and out +through the two doors. There were three or four _dvorniks_[3] +belonging to the house, but the young man, to his great satisfaction, +came across none of them, and, escaping notice as he entered, mounted +at once the stairs on the right hand. He had already made acquaintance +with this dark and narrow staircase, and its obscurity was grateful to +him; it was gloomy enough to hide him from prying eyes. "If I feel so +timid now, what will it be when I come to put my plan into execution?" +thought he, as he reached the fourth floor. Here he found the passage +blocked; some military porters were removing the furniture from a +tenement recently occupied, as the young man knew, by a German +official and his family. "Thanks to the departure of this German, for +some time to come there will be no one on this landing but the old +woman. It is as well to know this, at any rate," thought he to +himself, as he rang the old woman's bell. It gave a faint sound, as if +it were made of tin instead of copper. In houses of this sort, the +smaller lodgings generally have such bells. + +He had forgotten this; the peculiar tinkling sound seemed to recall +something to his memory, for he gave a shiver--his nerves were very +weak. In another moment the door was opened part way, and the occupant +of the rooms stood examining her visitor through the opening with +evident suspicion, her small eyes glimmering through the darkness like +luminous points. But when she saw the people on the landing, she +seemed reassured, and flung the door open. The young man entered a +gloomy ante-chamber, divided by a partition, behind which was a small +kitchen. The old woman stood silently in front of him, eying him +keenly. She was a thin little creature of sixty, with a small sharp +nose, and eyes sparkling with malice. Her head was uncovered, and her +grizzled locks shone with grease. A strip of flannel was wound round +her long thin neck, and, in spite of the heat, she wore a shabby +yellow fur tippet on her shoulders. She coughed incessantly. The young +man was probably eying her strangely, for the look of mistrust +suddenly reappeared on her face. + +"The Student Raskolnikoff. I called on you a month ago," said the +visitor, hurriedly, with a slight bow. He had suddenly remembered that +he must make himself more agreeable. + +"I remember, _batuchka_, I remember it well," returned the old woman, +still fixing her eyes on him suspiciously. + +"Well, then, look here. I have come again on a similar errand," +continued Raskolnikoff, somewhat surprised and uneasy at being +received with so much distrust. "After all, this may be her usual +manner, though I did not notice it before," thought he, unpleasantly +impressed. + +The old woman remained silent a while, and seemed to reflect. Then, +pointing to the door of the inner room, she drew back for her visitor +to pass, and said, "Come in, _batuchka._"[4] + +The small room into which the young man was ushered was papered with +yellow; there were geraniums and muslin curtains in the windows, and +the setting sun shed a flood of light on the interior. "The sun will +shine on it just the same _then_!" said Raskolnikoff all at once to +himself, as he glanced rapidly round to take in the various objects +and engrave them on his memory. The room, however, contained nothing +remarkable. The yellow wood furniture was all very old. A couch with a +shelving back, opposite which stood an oval table, a toilet-table with +a pier glass attached, chairs lining the walls, and two or three poor +prints representing German girls with birds in their hands, completed +the inventory. A lamp was burning in one corner in front of a small +image. The floor and furniture were clean and well polished. +"Elizabeth attends to that," thought the young man. It would have been +difficult to find a speck of dust on anything. "It is only in the +houses of these dreadful old widows that such order is to be seen," +continued Raskolnikoff to himself, looking with curiosity at the +chintz curtain overhanging the door which led into a second small +room, in which he had never set foot; it contained the old woman's bed +and chest of drawers. The apartment consisted of these two rooms. + +"What is it you want?" asked the mistress of the house dryly; she had +followed her visitor in, and planted herself in front of him to +examine him more closely. + +"I have come to pawn something, that is all!" With this he drew from +his pocket a flat old silver watch. A globe was engraved inside the +lid, and the chain was of steel. + +"But you have not repaid the sum I lent you before. It was due two +days ago." + +"I will pay you the interest for another month; have a little +patience." + +"I may have patience or I may sell your pledge at once, _batuchka_, +just whichever I like." + +"What will you give me on this watch, Alena Ivanovna?" + +"That is a wretched thing, _batuchka_, worth a mere nothing. Last time +I lent you two small notes on your ring, when I could have bought a +new one at the jeweler's for a ruble and a half." + +"Give me four rubles, and I will redeem it; it belonged to my father. +I expect some money soon." + +"A ruble and a half! and I shall take the interest in advance." + +"A ruble and a half!" protested the young man. + +"Please yourself whether you take it or not." So saying, the old woman +tendered back the watch. Her visitor took it and was about to depart +in vexation, when he reflected that this money lender was his last +resource--and, besides, he had another object in coming. + +"Come, fork out!" said he in a rough tone. + +The old woman fumbled in her pockets for her keys, and passed on into +the adjoining room. The young man, left standing there alone, pricked +up his ears and began to make various inductions. He heard this female +usurer open her drawer. "It must be the top one," was his conclusion. +"I know now that she carries her keys in her right pocket--they are +all hung on a steel ring--one of them is three times as large as the +rest, and has the wards toothed; that cannot be the key of her +drawer--then she must have some strong box or safe. It is curious that +the keys of strong boxes should be generally like that--but, after +all, how ignoble!" + +The old woman reappeared. "See here, _batuchka_: if I take a +ten-kopeck piece a month on each ruble, I ought to receive fifteen +kopecks on a ruble and a half, the interest being payable in advance. +Then, as you ask me to wait another month for the repayment of the two +rubles I have already lent you, you owe me twenty kopecks more, which +makes a total of five and thirty. What, therefore, I have to advance +upon your watch is one ruble fifteen kopecks. Here it is." + +"What! Is one ruble fifteen kopecks all you mean to give me now?" + +"That is all that is due to you." + +The young man took the money without further discussion. He looked at +the old woman and was in no haste to depart. He seemed anxious to say +or do something more, but without knowing exactly what. "Perhaps I may +be bringing you some other article soon, Alena Ivanovna, a very pretty +cigar case--a silver one--when I get it back from the friend to whom I +have lent it." These words were uttered with much embarrassment. + +"Well, we can talk about it then, _batuchka_." + +"Good-by. You are always alone--is your sister never with you?" asked +he with as indifferent an air as he could assume, as he entered the +anteroom. + +"What have you to do with my sister, _batuchka_?" + +"Nothing. I had no reason for asking. You will--well, good-by, Alena +Ivanovna." + +Raskolnikoff made his exit in a perturbed state of mind. As he went +downstairs, he stopped from time to time, as if overcome by violent +emotion. When he had at length emerged upon the street, he exclaimed +to himself: "How loathsome it all is! Can I, can I ever?--no, it is +absurd, preposterous!" added he mentally. "How could such a horrible +idea ever enter my head? Could I ever be capable of such infamy? It is +odious, ignoble, repulsive! And yet for a whole month----" + +Words and exclamations, however, could not give full vent to his +agitation. The loathing sense of disgust which had begun to oppress +him on his way to the old woman's house had now become so intense that +he longed to find some way of escape from the torture. He reeled along +the pavement like a tipsy man, taking no notice of those who passed, +but bumping against them. On looking round he saw a dram shop near at +hand; steps led down from the footpath to the basement, and +Raskolnikoff saw two drunkards coming out at that moment, leaning +heavily on each other and exchanging abusive language. The young man +barely paused before he descended the steps. He had never before +entered such a place, but he felt dizzy and was also suffering from +intense thirst. He had a craving for some beer, partly because he +attributed his weakness to an empty stomach. Seating himself in a dark +and dirty corner, in front of a filthy little table, he called for +some beer, and eagerly drank off a glass. + +He felt instantly relieved, and his brain began to clear: "How absurd +I have been!" said he to himself, "there was really nothing to make me +uneasy! It was simply physical! A glass of beer and a mouthful of +biscuit were all that was necessary to restore my strength of mind and +make my thoughts clear and resolution fixed. How paltry all this is!" + +The next morning Raskolnikoff awoke late, after disturbed and +unrefreshing slumbers. He felt very cross and glanced angrily round +his room. It was a tiny place, not more than six feet in length, and +its dirty buff paper hung in shreds, giving it a most miserable +aspect; besides which, the ceiling was so low that a tall man would +have felt in danger of bumping his head. The furniture was quite in +harmony with the room, consisting of three old rickety chairs, a +painted table in one corner, on which lay books and papers thick with +dust (showing how long it was since they had been touched), and, +finally, a large and very ugly sofa with ragged covers. This sofa, +which filled nearly half the room, served Raskolnikoff as a bed. He +often lay down on it in his clothes, without any sheets, covering +himself with his old student's coat, and using instead of a pillow a +little cushion, which he raised by keeping under it all his clean or +dirty linen. Before the sofa stood a small table. + +Raskolnikoff's misanthropy did not take offense at the dirty state of +his den. Human faces had grown so distasteful to him, that the very +sight of the servant whose business it was to clean the rooms produced +a feeling of exasperation. + +To such a condition may monomaniacs come by continually brooding over +one idea. For the last fortnight, the landlady had ceased to supply +her lodger with provisions, and he had not yet thought of demanding an +explanation. Nastasia, who had to cook and clean for the whole house, +was not sorry to see the lodger in this state of mind, as it +diminished her labors: she had quite given up tidying and dusting his +room; the utmost she did was to come and sweep it once a week. She it +was who was arousing him at this moment. + +"Come, get up, why are you sleeping so late?" she exclaimed. "It is +nine o'clock. I have brought up some tea, will you take a cup? How +pale you look!" + +Raskolnikoff opened his eyes, shook himself, and recognized Nastasia. +"Has the landlady sent me this tea?" asked he, making a painful effort +to sit up. + +"Not much chance of that!" And the servant placed before him her own +teapot, in which there was still some tea left, and laid two small +lumps of brownish sugar on the table. + +"Here, Nastasia, take this, please," said Raskolnikoff, fumbling in +his pocket and drawing out a handful of small change (for he had again +lain down in his clothes), "and fetch me a white roll. Go to the pork +shop as well, and buy me a bit of cheap sausage." + +"I will bring you the roll in a minute, but had you not better take +some _shtchi_[5] instead of the sausage? We make it here, and it is +capital. I kept some for you last night, but it was so late before you +came in! You will find it very good." She went to fetch the _shtchi_, +and, when Raskolnikoff had begun to eat, she seated herself on the +sofa beside him and commenced to chatter, like a true country girl as +she was. "Prascovia Paulovna means to report you to the police," said +she. + +The young man's brow clouded. "To the police? Why?" + +"Because you don't pay and won't go. That's why." + +"The deuce!" growled he between his teeth, "that is the finishing +stroke; it comes at a most unfortunate juncture. She is a fool," added +he aloud. "I shall go and talk to her to-morrow." + +"She is, of course, just as much of a fool as I am; but why do you, +who are so intelligent, lie here doing nothing? How is it you never +seem to have money for anything now? You used to give lessons, I hear; +how is it you do nothing now?" + +"I am engaged on something," returned Raskolnikoff dryly and half +reluctantly. + +"On what?" + +"Some work--" + +"What sort of work?" + +"Thinking," replied he gravely, after a short silence. + +Nastasia was convulsed. She was of a merry disposition, but her +laughter was always noiseless, an internal convulsion which made her +actually writhe with pain. "And does your thinking bring you any +money?" asked she, as soon as she could manage to speak. + +"Well! I can't give lessons when I have no boots to go out in? +Besides, I despise them." + +"Take care lest you suffer for it." + +"There is so little to be made by giving lessons! What can one do with +a few kopecks?" said he in an irritable tone, rather to himself than +the servant. + +"So you wish to make your fortune at one stroke?" + +He looked at her rather strangely, and was silent for a moment. "Yes, +my fortune," rejoined he impressively. + +"Hush! you frighten me, you look terrible. Shall I go and fetch you a +roll?" + +"Just as you like." + +Later in the day, Raskolnikoff went out and wandered about the +streets. At last he sat down under a tree to rest, and fell into a +reverie. His limbs felt disjointed, and his mind was in darkness and +confusion. He placed his elbows on his knees and held his head with +his hands. + +"God! Am I to stand beating in her skull with a hatchet or something, +wade in warm blood, break open the lock and rob and tremble, blood +flowing all around, and hide myself, with the hatchet? O God! is this +indeed possible, and must it be?" He trembled like a leaf as he said +this. + +"What am I thinking of?" he cried in some astonishment. "I know well I +could not endure that with which I have been torturing myself. I saw +that clearly yesterday when I tried to rehearse it. Perfectly plain. +Then what am I questioning? Did I not say yesterday as I went up the +stairs how disgusting and mean and low it all was, and did not I run +away in terror?" + +He stood up and looked all round, wondering how he got there, and +moved off toward the T---- bridge. He was pale and his eyes were hot, +and feebleness was in all his members, but he seemed to breathe +easier. He felt that he had thrown off the old time which had been so +oppressive; and in its place had come peace and light. "Lord!" he +prayed, "show me my way, that I may renounce these horrid thoughts of +mine!" + +Going across the bridge, he quietly gazed on the Neva, and the clear +red sunset. He did not feel himself tired now, notwithstanding his +weakness, and the load which had lain upon his heart seemed to be +gone. Liberty! Liberty! he was free from those enchantments and all +their vile instigations. In later times when he recalled this period +of his existence, and all that happened to him in those days, minute +by minute and point by point, he recollected how each circumstance, +although in the main not very unusual, constantly appeared to his mind +as an evidence of the predetermination of his fate, so superstitious +was he. Especially he could never understand why he, weary and +harassed as he was, could not have returned home by the shortest +route, instead of across the Haymarket, which was quite out of the +way. Certainly, a dozen times before, he had reached his lodgings by +most circuitous routes, and never known through which streets he had +come. But why (he always asked) should such a really fateful meeting +have taken place in the market (through which there was no need to +go), and happen, too, at exactly such a time and at a moment of his +life when his mind was in the state it was, and the event, in these +circumstances, could only produce the most definite and decided effect +upon his fate? Surely he was the instrument of some purpose! + +It was about nine o'clock as he stood in the Haymarket. All the +dealers had closed their establishments or cleared away their goods +and gone home. About this place, with its tattered population, its +dirty and nauseous courtyards and numerous alleys, Raskolnikoff dearly +loved to roam in his aimless wanderings. He attracted no notice there. +At the corner of K---- Lane were a dealer and his wife, who were +engaged in packing up their wares, consisting of tapes, handkerchiefs, +cotton, &c., preparatory to going home. They were lingering over their +work, and conversing with an acquaintance. This was Elizabeth +Ivanovna, or simple Elizabeth, as all called her, the younger sister +of the old woman, Alena Ivanovna, to whose rooms Raskolnikoff went the +day before for the purpose of pawning his watch to make his +_rehearsal_. He knew all about this Elizabeth, as she knew also a +little about him. She was a tall, awkward woman, about thirty-five +years of age, timid and quiet, indeed almost an idiot, and was a +regular slave to her sister, working for her day and night, trembling +before her and enduring even blows. She was evidently hesitating about +something, as she stood there with a bundle under her arm, and her +friends were pressing some subject rather warmly. When Raskolnikoff +recognized her he seemed struck with the greatest astonishment, +although there was nothing strange about such a meeting. + +"You ought to decide yourself, Elizabeth Ivanovna," said the man. +"Come to-morrow at seven o'clock." + +"To-morrow?" said Elizabeth slowly, as if undecided. + +"She is frightened of Alena Ivanovna," cried the wife, a brisk little +woman. "You are like a little child, Elizabeth Ivanovna, and she's not +your own sister, but a stepsister. She has too much her own way." + +"You say nothing to Alena Ivanovna," interrupted the man, "and come +without asking, that's the way to do it, and your sister can manage +herself." + +"When shall I come?" + +"At seven o'clock, to-morrow." + +"Very well, I will come," said Elizabeth, slowly and reluctantly. She +then quitted them. + +Raskolnikoff also went away, and stayed to hear no more. His original +amazement had changed gradually into a feeling of actual terror; a +chill ran down his back. He had learned unexpectedly and positively, +that, at seven o'clock the next evening, Elizabeth, the old woman's +sister, the only person living with her, would not be at home, and +that, therefore, the old woman, at seven o'clock to-morrow, _would be +there alone_. It needed but a few steps to reach his room. He went +along like one sentenced to death, with his reason clogged and numbed. +He felt that now all liberty of action and free will were gone, and +everything was irrevocably decided. A more convenient occasion than +was thus unexpectedly offered to him now would never arise, and he +might never learn again, beforehand, that, at a certain time on a +certain day, she, on whom he was to make the attempt, would be +entirely alone. + +Raskolnikoff learned subsequently what induced the man and his wife to +invite Elizabeth to call on them. It was a very simple matter. A +foreign family, finding themselves in straitened circumstances, were +desirous of parting with various things, consisting for the most part +in articles of female attire. They were anxious, therefore, to meet +with a dealer in cast-off clothes, and this was one of Elizabeth's +callings. She had a large connection, because she was very honest and +always stuck to her price: there was no higgling to be done with her. +She was a woman of few words and very shy and reserved. But +Raskolnikoff was very superstitious, and traces of this remained in +him long after. In all the events of this period of his life he was +ever ready to detect something mysterious, and attribute every +circumstance to the presence of some particular influence upon his +destiny. + +The previous winter, a fellow student, Pokoreff by name, on leaving +for Charkoff, had happened to communicate to him in conversation the +address of Alena Ivanovna, in case he should ever require to pawn +anything. For a long time he did not use it, as he was giving lessons, +and managed somehow to get along, but six weeks before this time he +had recollected the address. He had two things fit to pawn--an old +silver watch, formerly his father's; and a small gold ring with three +red stones, a souvenir from his sister on leaving home. He decided on +getting rid of the latter, and went to the old woman's. At the first +glance, and knowing nothing whatever of her personally, she inspired +him with an unaccountable loathing. He took her two notes, and on +leaving went into a poor _traktir_, or restaurant, and ordered some +tea. He sat down musing, and strange thoughts flitted across his mind +and became hatched in his brain. Close by, at another table, were +seated a student, whom he did not knew, and a young officer. They had +been playing billiards, and were now drinking tea. Suddenly +Raskolnikoff heard the student give the officer the address of Alena +Ivanovna, the widow of a professor, as one who lent money on pledges. +This alone struck Raskolnikoff as very peculiar. They were talking of +the same person he had just been to see. No doubt it was pure chance, +but, at the moment he was struggling against an impression he could +not overcome, this stranger's words came and gave extra force to it. +The student went on talking, and began to give his companion some +account of Alena Ivanovna. + +"She is well known," he said, "and always good for money. She is as +rich as a Jew, and can advance five thousand rubles at a moment's +notice; yet she will take in pledge objects worth as little as a +ruble. She is quite a providence to many of our fellows--but such an +old hag! I tell you what I would do. I would kill that damnable old +hag, and take all she is possessed of, without any qualm of +conscience," exclaimed the student excitedly. The officer laughed, but +Raskolnikoff shuddered. The words just uttered so strongly echoed his +own thoughts. "Let me put a serious question to you," resumed the +student, more and more excited. "I have hitherto been joking, but now +listen to this. On the one side here is a silly, flint-hearted, +evil-minded, sulky old woman, necessary to no one--on the contrary, +pernicious to all--and who does not know herself why she lives." + +"Well?" said the officer. + +"Hear me further. On the other hand, young fresh strength droops and +is lost for want of sustenance; this is the case with thousands +everywhere! A hundred, a thousand good deeds and enterprises could be +carried out and upheld with the money this old woman has bequeathed to +a monastery. A dozen families might be saved from hunger, want, ruin, +crime, and misery, and all with her money! Kill her, I say, take it +from her, and dedicate it to the service of humanity and the general +good! What is your opinion? Shall not one little crime be effaced and +atoned for by a thousand good deeds? For one useless life a thousand +lives saved from decay and death. One death, and a hundred beings +restored to existence! There's a calculation for you. What in +proportion is the life of this miserable old woman? No more than the +life of a flea, a beetle, nay, not even that, for she is pernicious. +She preys on other lives. She lately bit Elizabeth's finger, in a fit +of passion, and nearly bit it off!" + +"Certainly she does not deserve to live," observed the officer, "but +nature----" + +"Ah, my friend, nature has to be governed and guided, or we should be +drowned in prejudices. Without it there would never be one great man. +They say 'duty is conscience.' Now I have nothing to say against duty +and conscience, but let us see, how do we understand them? Let me put +another question to you. Listen." + +"Stop a minute, I will give you one." + +"Well?" + +"After all you have said and declaimed, tell me--are you going to kill +the old woman _yourself_, or not?" + +"Of course not. I only pointed out the inequality of things. As for +the deed----" + +"Well, if you won't, it's my opinion that it would not be just to do +so! Come, let's have another game!" + +Raskolnikoff was in the greatest agitation. Still, there was nothing +extraordinary in this conversation; it was not the first time he had +heard, only in other forms and on other topics, such ideas from the +lips of the young and hot-headed. But why should he, of all men, +happen to overhear such a conversation and such ideas, when the very +same thoughts were being engendered in himself?--and why precisely +_then_, immediately on his becoming possessed of them and on leaving +the old woman? Strange, indeed, did this coincidence appear to him. +This idle conversation was destined to have a fearful influence on his +destiny, extending to the most trifling incident and causing him to +feel sure he was the instrument of a fixed purpose. + + * * * * * + +On his return from the market, he flung himself upon his couch and sat +motionless for a whole hour. It became dark, he had no light, but sat +on. He could never afterwards recollect his thoughts at the time. At +last he felt cold, and a shiver ran through him. He recognized with +delight that he was sitting on his couch and could lie down, and soon +he fell into a deep, heavy sleep. He slept much longer than usual, and +his slumbers were undisturbed by dreams. Nastasia, who came to his +room the next morning at ten o'clock, had great difficulty in +awakening him. The servant brought him some bread and, the same as the +day before, what was left of her tea. + +"Not up yet!" exclaimed she indignantly. "How can you sleep so long?" + +Raskolnikoff raised himself with an effort; his head ached; he got +upon his feet, took a few steps, and then dropped down again upon the +couch. + +"What, again!" cried Nastasia, "but you must be ill then?" He did not +answer. "Would you like some tea?" + +"By and by," he muttered painfully, after which he closed his eyes and +turned his face to the wall. Nastasia, standing over him, remained +watching him for a while. + +"After all, he's perhaps ill," said she, before withdrawing. + +At two o'clock she returned with some soup. Raskolnikoff was still +lying on the couch. He had not touched the tea. The servant became +angry and shook the lodger violently. "Whatever makes you sleep thus?" +scolded she, eying him contemptuously. + +He sat up, but answered not a word, and remained with his eyes fixed +on the floor. + +"Are you ill, or are you not?" asked Nastasia. This second question +met with no more answer than the first. "You should go out," continued +she, after a pause, "the fresh air would do you good. You'll eat +something, will you not?" + +"By and by," answered he feebly. "Go away!" and he motioned her off. +She remained a moment longer, watching him with an air of pity, and +then left the room. + +After a few minutes he raised his eyes, gave a long look at the tea +and soup, and then began to eat. He swallowed three or four spoonfuls +without the least appetite--almost mechanically. His head felt better. +When he had finished his light repast, he again lay down on the couch, +but he could not sleep and remained motionless, flat on his stomach, +his face buried in the pillow. His reverie kept conjuring up strange +scenes. At one time he was in Africa, in Egypt, on some oasis, where +palms were dotted about. The caravans were at rest, the camels lay +quietly, and the travelers were eating their evening meal. They drank +water direct from the stream which ran murmuring close by. How +refreshing was the marvelously blue water, and how beautifully clear +it looked as it ran over many-colored stones and mingled with the +golden spangles of the sandy bottom! All at once he clearly heard the +hour chiming. He shuddered, raised his head, looked at the window to +calculate the time. He came to himself immediately and jumped up, and, +going on tiptoe, silently opened the door and stood listening on the +landing. His heart beat violently. But not a sound came from the +staircase. It seemed as though the house was wrapped in sleep. He +could not understand how he had been able to sleep away the time as he +had done, while nothing was prepared for the enterprise. And yet it +was, perhaps, six o'clock that had just struck. + +Then, he became excited as he felt what there was to be done, and he +endeavored with all his might to keep his thoughts from wandering and +concentrate his mind on his task. All the time his heart thumped and +beat until he could hardly draw breath. In the first place it was +necessary to make a loop and fasten to his coat. He went to his pillow +and took from among the linen he kept there an old and dirty shirt and +tore part of it into strips. He then fastened a couple of these +together, and, taking off his coat--a stout cotton summer one--began +to sew the loop inside, under the left arm. His hands shook violently, +but he accomplished his task satisfactorily, and when he again put on +his coat nothing was visible. Needle and thread had been procured long +ago, and lay on the table in a piece of paper. The loop was provided +for a hatchet. It would never have done to have appeared in the +streets carrying a hatchet, and if he placed it under the coat, it +would have been necessary to hold it with his hands; but with the loop +all he had to do was to put the iron in it and it would hang of itself +under the coat, and with his hands in his pockets he could keep it +from shaking, and no one could suspect that he was carrying anything. +He had thought over all this about a fortnight before. + +Having finished his task, Raskolnikoff inserted his finger in a small +crevice in the floor under his couch, and brought out the _pledge_ +with which he had been careful to provide himself. This pledge was, +however, only a sham--a thin smooth piece of wood about the size and +thickness of a silver cigarette case, which he had found in a yard +adjoining a carpenter's shop, and a thin piece of iron of about the +same size, which he had picked up in the street. He fastened the two +together firmly with thread, then proceeded to wrap them up neatly in +a piece of clean white paper, and tie the parcel in such a manner that +it would be difficult to undo it again. This was all done in order to +occupy the attention of the old woman and to seize a favorable +opportunity when she would be busy with the knot. The piece of iron +was simply added for weight, in order that she might not immediately +detect the fraud. He had just finished, and had put the packet in his +pocket, when in the court below resounded the cry: + +"Six o'clock struck long ago!" + +"Long ago! Good heavens!" + +He ran to the door, listened, seized his hat, and went down the stairs +cautiously and stealthily as a cat. He still had the most important +thing to do--to steal the hatchet out of the kitchen. That a hatchet +was the best instrument, he had long since decided. He had an old +garden knife, but on a knife--especially on his own strength--he could +not rely; he finally fixed on the hatchet. A peculiarity was to be +noticed in all these resolutions of his; the more definitely they were +settled, the more absurd and horrible they immediately appeared to his +eyes, and never, for a moment, did he feel sure of the execution of +his project. But even if every question had been settled, every doubt +cleared away, every difficulty overcome, he would probably have +renounced his design on the instant, as something absurd, monstrous, +and impossible. But there were still a host of matters to arrange, of +problems to solve. As to procuring the hatchet, this trifle did not +trouble Raskolnikoff in the least, for nothing was easier. As a matter +of fact Nastasia was scarcely ever at home, especially of an evening. +She was constantly out gossiping with friends or tradespeople, and +that was the reason of her mistress's constant complaints. When the +time came, all he would have to do would be to quietly enter the +kitchen and take the hatchet, and then to replace it an hour +afterwards when all was over. But perhaps this would not be as easy as +he fancied. "Suppose," said the young man to himself, "that when, in +an hour's time, I come to replace the hatchet, Nastasia should have +come in. Now, in that case, I could naturally not enter the kitchen +until she had gone out again. But supposing during this time she +notices the absence of the hatchet, she will grumble, perhaps kick up +a shindy, and that will serve to denounce me, or at least might do +so!" + +Before he had got to the bottom of the staircase, a trifling +circumstance came and upset all his plans. On reaching his landlady's +landing, he found the kitchen door wide open, as usual, and he peeped +in, in order to make sure that, in the absence of Nastasia, her +mistress was not there, and that the doors of the other rooms were +closed. But great was his annoyance to find Nastasia there herself, +engaged in hanging clothes on a line. Perceiving the young man, she +stopped and turned to him inquiringly. He averted his eyes and went +away without remark. But the affair was done for. There was no +hatchet, he was frustrated entirely. He felt crushed, nay, humiliated, +but a feeling of brutal vindictiveness at his disappointment soon +ensued, and he continued down the stairs, smiling maliciously to +himself. He stood hesitating at the gate. To walk about the streets or +to go back were equally repugnant. "To think that I have missed such a +splendid opportunity!" he murmured as he stood aimlessly at the +entrance, leaning near the open door of the porter's lodge. Suddenly +he started--something in the dark room attracted his eye. He looked +quietly around. No one was near. He descended the two steps on tiptoe, +and called for the porter. There was no reply, and he rushed headlong +to the hatchet (it was a hatchet), secured it where it lay among some +wood, and hurriedly fastened it to the loop as he made his way out +into the street. No one saw him! "There's more of the devil in this +than my design," he said smiling to himself. The occurrence gave him +fresh courage. + +He went away quietly in order not to excite any suspicion, and walked +along the street with his eyes studiously fixed on the ground, +avoiding the faces of the passers-by. Suddenly he recollected his hat. +"Good heavens! the day before yesterday I had money, and not to have +thought of that! I could so easily have bought a cap!" and he began +cursing himself. Glancing casually in a shop, he saw it was ten +minutes past seven. He had yet a long way to go, as he was making a +circuit, not wishing to walk direct to the house. He kept off, as much +as he was able, all thought of his mission, and on the way reflected +upon possible improvements of the public grounds, upon the +desirability of fountains, and why people lived where there were +neither parks nor fountains, but only mud, lime, and bricks, emitting +horrid exhalations and every conceivable foulness. This reminded him +of his own walks about the Cyennaza, and he came to himself. + +"How true it is that persons being led to execution interest +themselves in anything that strikes them on the way!" was the thought +that came into his head, but it passed away like lightning to be +succeeded by some other. "Here we are--there is the gate." It struck +half-past seven as he stood near the house. + +To his delight, he passed in without observation. As if on purpose, at +the very same moment a load of hay was going in, and it completely +screened him. On the other side of the load, a dispute or brawl was +evidently taking place, and he gained the old woman's staircase in a +second. Recovering his breath and pressing his hand to his beating +heart, he commenced the ascent, though first feeling for the hatchet +and arranging it. Every minute he stopped to listen. The stairs were +quite deserted, and every door was closed. No one met him. On the +second floor, indeed, the door of an empty lodging was wide open; some +painters were working there, but they did not look up. He stopped a +moment to think, and then continued the ascent: "No doubt it would be +better if they were not there, but fortunately there are two more +floors above them." At last he reached the fourth floor, and Alena +Ivanovna's door; the lodging facing it was unoccupied. The lodging on +the third floor, just beneath the old woman's, was also apparently +empty. The card that used to be on the door had gone; the lodgers had, +no doubt, moved. Raskolnikoff was stifling. He stood hesitating a +moment: "Had I not better go away?" But without answering the +question, he waited and listened. Not a sound issued from the old +woman's apartments. The staircase was filled with the same silence. +After listening for a long time, the young man cast a last glance +around, and again felt his hatchet. "Do I not look too pale?" thought +he. "Do I not appear too agitated? She is mistrustful. I should do +well to wait a little, to give my emotion time to calm down." + +But instead of becoming quieter, his heart throbbed more violently. He +could stand it no longer, and, raising his hand toward the bell rope, +he pulled it toward him. After waiting half a minute, he rang +again--this time a little louder. No answer. To ring like a deaf man +would have been useless, stupid even. The old woman was certainly at +home; but, suspicious by nature, she was likely to be so all the more +then, as she happened to be alone. Raskolnikoff knew something of +Alena Ivanovna's habits. He therefore placed his ear to the door. Had +the circumstances amid which he was placed strangely developed his +power of hearing, which, in general, is difficult to admit, or was the +sound really easily perceptible? Anyhow, he suddenly became aware that +a hand was being cautiously placed on the lock, and that a dress +rustled against the door. Some one inside was going through exactly +the same movements as he on the landing. Some one, standing up against +the lock, was listening while trying to hide her presence, and had +probably her ear also against the door. + +In order to avoid all idea of mystery, the young man purposely moved +about rather noisily, and muttered something half aloud; then he rang +a third time, but gently and coolly, without allowing the bell to +betray the least sign of impatience. Raskolnikoff never forgot this +moment of his life. When, in after days, he thought over it, he could +never understand how he had been able to display such cunning, +especially at a time when emotion was now and again depriving him of +the free use of his intellectual and physical faculties. After a short +while he heard the bolt withdrawn. + +The door, as before, was opened a little, and again the two eyes, with +mistrustful glance, peeped out of the dark. Then Raskolnikoff lost his +presence of mind and made a serious mistake. Fearing that the old +woman would take alarm at finding they were alone, and knowing that +his appearance would not reassure her, he took hold of the door and +pulled it toward him in order to prevent her shutting it again if she +should be thus minded. Seeing this, she held on to the lock, so that +he almost drew her together with the door on to the staircase. She +recovered herself, and stood to prevent his entrance, speechless with +fright. + +"Good evening, Alena Ivanovna," he commenced, trying to speak with +unconcern, but his voice did not obey him, and he faltered and +trembled, "Good evening, I have brought you something, but we had +better go into the light." He pushed past her and entered the room +uninvited. The old woman followed and found her tongue. + +"What is it you want? Who are you?" she commenced. + +"Pardon me, Alena Ivanovna, your old acquaintance Raskolnikoff. I have +brought a pledge, as I promised the other day," and he held out the +packet to her. + +The old woman was about to examine it, when she raised her eyes and +looked straight into those of the visitor who had entered so +unceremoniously. She examined him attentively, distrustfully, for a +minute. Raskolnikoff fancied there was a gleam of mockery in her look +as if she guessed all. He felt he was changing color, and that if she +kept her glance upon him much longer without saying a word he would be +obliged to run away. + +"Why are you looking at me thus?" he said at last in anger. "Will you +take it or not? or shall I take it elsewhere? I have no time to +waste." He did not intend to say this, but the words came out. The +tone seemed to quiet her suspicions. + +"Why were you so impatient, _batuchka_? What is it?" she asked, +glancing at the pledge. + +"The silver cigarette case of which I spoke the other day." + +She held out her hand. "But why are you so pale, why do your hands +shake? What is the matter with you, _batuchka_?" + +"Fever," replied he abruptly. "You would be pale too if you had +nothing to eat." He could hardly speak the words and felt his strength +falling. But there was some plausibility in his reply; and the old +woman took the pledge. + +"What is it?" she asked once more, weighing it in her hand and looking +straight at her visitor. + +"Cigarette case, silver, look at it." + +"It doesn't feel as though it were silver. Oh! what a dreadful knot!" + +She began to untie the packet and turned to the light (all the windows +were closed in spite of the heat). Her back was turned toward +Raskolnikoff, and for a few seconds she paid no further attention to +him. He opened his coat, freed the hatchet from the loop, but did not +yet take it from its hiding place; he held it with his right hand +beneath the garment. His limbs were weak, each moment they grew more +numbed and stiff. He feared his fingers would relax their hold of the +hatchet. Then his head turned giddy. + +"What is this you bring me?" cried Alena Ivanovna, turning to him in a +rage. + +There was not a moment to lose now. He pulled out the hatchet, raised +it with both hands, and let it descend without force, almost +mechanically, on the old woman's head. But directly he had struck the +blow his strength returned. According to her usual habit, Alena +Ivanovna was bareheaded. Her scanty gray locks, greasy with oil, were +gathered in one thin plait, which was fixed to the back of her neck by +means of a piece of horn comb. The hatchet struck her just on the +sinciput, and this was partly owing to her small stature. She scarcely +uttered a faint cry and collapsed at once all in a heap on the floor; +she was dead. + +The murderer laid his hatchet down and at once began to search the +corpse, taking the greatest precaution not to get stained with the +blood; he remembered seeing Alena Ivanovna, on the occasion of his +last visit, take her keys from the right-hand pocket of her dress. He +was in full possession of his intellect; he felt neither giddy nor +dazed, but his hands continued to shake. Later on, he recollected that +he had been very prudent, very attentive, that he had taken every care +not to soil himself. It did not take him long to find the keys; the +same as the other day, they were all together on a steel ring. Having +secured them, Raskolnikoff at once passed into the bedroom. It was a +very small apartment; on one side was a large glass case full of holy +images, on the other a great bed looking very clean with its +quilted-silk patchwork coverlet. The third wall was occupied by a +chest of drawers. Strange to say, the young man had no sooner +attempted to open them, he had no sooner commenced to try the keys, +than a kind of shudder ran through his frame. Again the idea came to +him to give up his task and go away, but this weakness only lasted a +second: it was now too late to draw back. + +He was even smiling at having for a moment entertained such a thought, +when he was suddenly seized with a terrible anxiety: suppose the old +woman were still alive, suppose she recovered consciousness. Leaving +at once the keys and the drawers, he hastened to the corpse, seized +the hatchet, and prepared to strike another blow at his victim, but he +found there was no necessity to do so. Alena Ivanovna was dead beyond +all doubt. Leaning over her again to examine her closer, Raskolnikoff +saw that the skull was shattered. He was about to touch her with his +fingers, but drew back, as it was quite unnecessary. There was a pool +of blood upon the floor. Suddenly noticing a bit of cord round the old +woman's neck, the young man gave it a tug, but the gory stuff was +strong, and did not break. The murderer then tried to remove it by +drawing it down the body. But this second attempt was no more +successful than the first, the cord encountered some obstacle and +became fixed. Burning with impatience, Raskolnikoff brandished the +hatchet, ready to strike the corpse and sever the confounded string at +the same blow. However, he could not make up his mind to proceed with +such brutality. At last, after trying for two minutes, and staining +his hands with blood, he succeeded in severing the cord with the blade +of the hatchet without further disfiguring the dead body. As he had +imagined, there was a purse suspended to the old woman's neck. Besides +this there was also a small enameled medal and two crosses, one of +cypress wood, the other of brass. The greasy purse, a little +chamois-leather bag, was as full as it could hold. Raskolnikoff thrust +it in his pocket without examining the contents. He then threw the +crosses on his victim's breast, and hastily returned to the bedroom, +taking the hatchet with him. + +His impatience was now intense, he seized the keys, and again set to +work. But all his attempts to open the drawers were unavailing, and +this was not so much owing to the shaking of his hands as to his +continual misconceptions. He could see, for instance, that a certain +key would not fit the lock, and yet he continued to try and insert it. +All on a sudden he recalled a conjecture he had formed on the occasion +of his preceding visit: the big key with the toothed wards, which was +attached to the ring with the smaller ones, probably belonged, not to +the drawers, but to some box in which the old woman, no doubt, hoarded +up her valuables. Without further troubling about the drawers, he at +once looked under the bed, aware that old women are in the habit of +hiding their treasures in such places. And there indeed was a trunk +with rounded lid, covered with red morocco and studded with steel +nails. Raskolnikoff was able to insert the key in the lock without the +least difficulty. When he opened the box he perceived a hareskin cloak +trimmed with red lying on a white sheet; beneath the fur was a silk +dress, and then a shawl, the rest of the contents appeared to be +nothing but rags. The young man commenced by wiping his bloodstained +hands on the red trimming. "It will not show so much on red." Then he +suddenly seemed to change his mind: "Heavens! am I going mad?" thought +he with fright. + +But scarcely had he touched these clothes than a gold watch rolled +from under the fur. He then overhauled everything in the box. Among +the rags were various gold trinkets, which had all probably been +pledged with the old woman: bracelets, chains, earrings, scarf pins, +&c. Some were in their cases, while the others were tied up with tape +in pieces of newspaper folded in two. Raskolnikoff did not hesitate, +he laid hands on these jewels, and stowed them away in the pockets of +his coat and trousers, without opening the cases or untying the +packets; but he was soon interrupted in his work------ + +Footsteps resounded in the other room. He stopped short, frozen with +terror. But the noise having ceased, he was already imagining he had +been mistaken, when suddenly he distinctly heard a faint cry, or +rather a kind of feeble interrupted moan. At the end of a minute or +two, everything was again as silent as death. Raskolnikoff had seated +himself on the floor beside the trunk and was waiting, scarcely daring +to breathe; suddenly he bounded up, caught up the hatchet, and rushed +from the bedroom. In the center of the apartment, Elizabeth, a huge +bundle in her hands, stood gazing in a terror-stricken way at her dead +sister; white as a sheet, she did not seem to have the strength to +call out. On the sudden appearance of the murderer, she began to quake +in every limb, and nervous twitches passed over her face; she tried to +raise her arm, to open her mouth, but she was unable to utter the +least cry, and, slowly retreating, her gaze still riveted on +Raskolnikoff, she sought refuge in a corner. The poor woman drew back +in perfect silence, as though she had no breath left in her body. The +young man rushed upon her, brandishing the hatchet; the wretched +creature's lips assumed the doleful expression peculiar to quite young +children when, beginning to feel frightened of something, they gaze +fixedly at the object which has raised their alarm, and are on the +point of crying out. Terror had so completely stupefied this +unfortunate Elizabeth, that, though threatened by the hatchet, she did +not even think of protecting her face by holding her hands before her +head, with that mechanical gesture which the instinct of +self-preservation prompts on such occasions. She scarcely raised her +left arm, and extended it slowly in the direction of the murderer, as +thought to keep him off. The hatchet penetrated her skull, laying it +open from the upper part of the forehead to the crown. Elizabeth fell +down dead. No longer aware of what he did, Raskolnikoff took the +bundle from his victim's hand, then dropped it and ran to the +anteroom. + +He was more and more terrified, especially after this second murder, +entirely unpremeditated by him. He was in a hurry to be gone; had he +then been in a state to see things more clearly, had he only been able +to form an idea of the difficulties besetting his position, to see how +desperate, how hideous, how absurd it was, to understand how many +obstacles there still remained for him to surmount, perhaps even +crimes to commit, to escape from this house and return home, he would +most likely have withdrawn from the struggle, and have gone at once +and given himself up to justice; it was not cowardice which would have +prompted him to do so, but the horror of what he had done. This last +impression became more and more powerful every minute. Nothing in the +world could now have made him return to the trunk, nor even reënter +the room in which it lay. Little by little his mind became diverted by +other thoughts, and he lapsed into a kind of reverie; at times the +murderer seemed to forget his position, or rather the most important +part of it, and to concentrate his attention on trifles. After a +while, happening to glance in the kitchen, he observed a pail half +full of water, standing on a bench, and that gave him the idea of +washing his hands and the hatchet. The blood had made his hands +sticky. After plunging the blade of the hatchet in the water, he took +a small piece of soap which lay on the window sill, and commenced his +ablutions. When he had washed his hands, he set to cleaning the iron +part of his weapon; then he devoted three minutes to soaping the +wooden handle, which was also stained with blood. + +After this he wiped it with a cloth which had been hung up to dry on a +line stretched across the kitchen. This done, he drew near the window +and carefully examined the hatchet for some minutes. The accusing +stains had disappeared, but the handle was still damp. Raskolnikoff +carefully hid the weapon under his coat by replacing it in the loop; +after which, he minutely inspected his clothes, that is to say so far +as the dim light of the kitchen allowed him to do so. He saw nothing +suspicious about the coat and trousers, but there were bloodstains on +the boots. He removed them with the aid of a damp rag. But these +precautions only half reassured him, for he knew that he could not see +properly and that certain stains had very likely escaped him. He stood +irresolute in the middle of the room, a prey to a somber, agonizing +thought, the thought that he was going mad, that at that moment he was +not in a fit state to come to a determination and to watch over his +security, that his way of going to work was probably not the one the +circumstances demanded. "Good heavens! I ought to go, to go away at +once!" murmured he, and he rushed to the anteroom where the greatest +terror he had yet experienced awaited him. + +He stood stock-still, not daring to believe his eyes: the door of the +lodging, the outer door which opened on to the landing, the same one +at which he had rung a little while before and by which he had +entered, was open; up till then it had remained ajar, the old woman +had no doubt omitted to close it by way of precaution; it had been +neither locked nor bolted! But he had seen Elizabeth after that. How +was it that it had not occurred to him that she had come in by way of +the door? She could not have entered the lodging through the wall. He +shut the door and bolted it. "But no, that is not what I should do? I +must go away, go away." He drew back the bolt and, after opening the +door again, stood listening on the landing. + +He stood thus a long while. Down below, probably at the street door, +two noisy voices were vociferating insults. "Who can those people be?" +He waited patiently. At last the noise ceased, the brawlers had taken +their departure. The young man was about to do the same, when a door +on the floor immediately below was noisily opened and some one went +downstairs, humming a tune. "Whatever are they all up to?" wondered +Raskolnikoff, and closing the door again he waited a while. At length +all became silent as before; but just as he was preparing to go down, +he suddenly became aware of a fresh sound, footsteps as yet far off, +at the bottom of the staircase; and he no sooner heard them than he +guessed the truth:--some one was coming _there_, to the old woman's on +the fourth floor. Whence came this presentiment? What was there so +particularly significant in the sound of these footsteps? They were +heavy, regular, and rather slow than hurried. _He_ has now reached the +first floor, he still continues to ascend. The sound is becoming +plainer and plainer. He pants as though with asthma at each step he +takes. He has commenced the third flight. He will soon be on the +fourth! And Raskolnikoff felt suddenly seized as with a general +paralysis, the same as happens when a person has the nightmare and +fancies himself pursued by enemies; they are on the point of catching +him, they will kill him, and yet he remains spellbound, unable to move +a limb. + +The stranger was now ascending the fourth flight. Raskolnikoff, who +until then had been riveted to the landing with fright, was at length +able to shake off his torpor, and hastily reentered the apartment, +closing the door behind him. Then he bolted it, being careful to make +as little noise as possible. Instinct rather than reason prompted him +to do this. When he had finished, he remained close to the door, +listening, scarcely daring to breathe. The visitor was now on the +landing. Only the thickness of the door separated the two men. The +unknown was in the same position toward Raskolnikoff as the latter had +been a little while before toward the old woman. The visitor stood +panting for some little time. "He must be stout and big," thought the +young man as he clasped the hatchet firmly in his hand. It was all +like a dream to him. The visitor gave a violent pull at the bell. He +immediately fancied he heard something move inside. He listened +attentively during a few seconds, then he gave another ring and again +waited; suddenly losing patience, he began to shake the door handle +with all his might. Raskolnikoff watched with terror the bolt +trembling in the socket, expecting to see it shoot back at any moment, +so violent were the jerks given to the door. It occurred to him to +hold the bolt in its place with his hand, but the _man_ might have +found it out. His head was turning quite dizzy again. "I shall betray +myself!" thought he; but he suddenly recovered his presence of mind as +the unknown broke the silence. + +"Are they both asleep, or has some one strangled them? The +thrice-confounded creatures!" growled the visitor in a guttural voice. +"Hi! Alena Ivanovna, you old sorceress! Elizabeth Ivanovna, you +indescribable beauty!--open! Oh! the witches! can they be asleep?" + +In his exasperation he rang ten times running, and as loud as he +possibly could. This man was evidently not a stranger there, and was +in the habit of being obeyed. At the same moment some light and rapid +footsteps resounded on the staircase. It was another person coming to +the fourth floor. Raskolnikoff was not at first aware of the +newcomer's arrival. + +"Is it possible that there's no one at home?" said the latter in a +loud and hearty tone of voice, addressing the first visitor who was +still tugging at the bell pull. "Good day, Koch!" + +"Judging by his voice, he must be quite a young man," immediately +thought Raskolnikoff. + +"The devil only knows! I've almost smashed the lock," replied Koch. +"But how is it you know me?" + +"What a question! The day before yesterday I played you at billiards, +at Gambrinus's, and won three games right off." + +"Ah!" + +"So they're not at home? That's strange. I might almost say it's +ridiculous. Where can the old woman have gone? I want to speak with +her." + +"And I too, _batuchka_, I want to speak with her." + +"Well, what's to be done? I suppose we must go back to whence we came. +I wanted to borrow some money of her!" exclaimed the young man. + +"Of course we must go back again; but why then did she make an +appointment? She herself, the old witch, told me to come at this hour. +And it's a long way to where I live. Where the deuce can she be? I +don't understand it. She never stirs from one year's end to the other, +the old witch; she quite rots in the place, her legs have always got +something the matter with them, and now all on a sudden she goes +gallivanting about!" + +"Suppose we question the porter?" + +"What for?" + +"To find out where she's gone and when she will be back." + +"Hum!--the deuce!--question!--but she never goes anywhere." And he +again tugged at the door handle. "The devil take her! there's nothing +to be done but to go." + +"Wait!" suddenly exclaimed the young man, "look!--do you notice how +the door resists when we pull it?" + +"Well, what then?" + +"Why, that shows that it's not locked, but bolted! Hark how it +clinks!" + +"Well?" + +"Don't you understand? That shows that one of them must be at home. If +both were out, they would have locked the door after them, and not +have bolted it inside. Listen, don't you hear the noise it makes? +Well, to bolt one's door, one must be at home, you understand. +Therefore it follows that they are at home, only for some reason or +other they don't open the door!" + +"Why, yes, you're right!" exclaimed the astonished Koch. "So they're +there, are they?" And he again shook the door violently. + +"Stay!" resumed the young man, "don't pull like that. There's +something peculiar about this. You've rung, you've pulled at the door +with all your might, and they haven't answered you; therefore, they've +either both fainted away, or----" + +"What?" + +"This is what we had better do: have the porter up, so that he may +find out what's the matter." + +"That's not a bad idea!" + +They both started downstairs. + +"Stop! you stay here; I'll fetch the porter." + +"Why stay here?" + +"Well, one never knows what might happen----" + +"All right." + +"You see, I might also pass for an examining magistrate! There's +something very peculiar about all this, that's evident, e-vi-dent!" +said the young man excitedly, and he hastily made his way down the +stairs. + +Left alone, Koch rang again, but gently this time; then, with a +thoughtful air, he began to play with the door handle, turning it +first one way, then the other, so as to make sure the door was only +bolted. After this, with a great deal of puffing and blowing, he +stooped down to look through the keyhole, but the key was in the lock, +and turned in such a way that one could not see through. Standing up +on the other side of the door, Raskolnikoff still held the hatchet in +his hands. He was almost in a state of delirium and was preparing to +attack the two men the moment they forced an entrance. More than once, +on hearing them knocking and planning together, he had felt inclined +to put an end to the matter there and then by calling out to them. At +times he experienced a desire to abuse and defy them, while awaiting +their irruption. "The sooner it's over the better!" he kept thinking. + +"The devil take them!" The time passed; still no one came. Koch was +beginning to lose patience. "The devil take them!" he muttered again, +and, tired of waiting, he relinquished his watch to go and find the +young man. By degrees the sound of his heavy boots echoing on the +stairs ceased to be heard. + +"Heavens! What shall I do?" + +Raskolnikoff drew back the bolt and opened the door a few inches. +Reassured by the silence which reigned in the house, and, moreover, +scarcely in a fit state at the time to reflect on what he did, he went +out on to the landing, shut the door behind him as securely as he +could and turned to go downstairs. He had already descended several +steps when suddenly a great uproar arose from one of the floors below. +Where could he hide? Concealment was impossible, so he hastened +upstairs again. + +"Hi there! hang it! stop!" + +He who uttered these cries had just burst out of one of the lodgings, +and was rushing down the stairs as fast as his legs would carry him, +yelling the while: "Dmitri! Dmitri! Dmitri! May the devil take the +fool!" + +The rest died away in the distance; the man who was uttering these +cries had already left the house far behind. All was once more silent; +but scarcely was this alarm over than a fresh one succeeded it: +several individuals talking together in a loud tone of voice were +noisily coming up the stairs. There were three or four of them. +Raskolnikoff recognized the young man's sonorous accents. "It is +they!" No longer hoping to escape them, he advanced boldly to meet +them: "Let happen what will!" said he to himself: "if they stop me, +all is over; if they let me pass, all is over just the same: they will +remember passing me on the stairs." They were about to encounter him, +only one flight separated them--when suddenly he felt himself saved! A +few steps from him, to the right, there was an empty lodging with the +door wide open, it was that same one on the second floor where he had +seen the painters working, but, by a happy chance, they had just left +it. It was they, no doubt, who a few minutes before had gone off, +uttering those shouts. The paint on the floors was quite fresh, the +workmen had left their things in the middle of the room: a small tub, +some paint in an earthenware crock, and a big brush. In the twinkling +of an eye, Raskolnikoff glided into the deserted apartment and hid +himself as best he could up against the wall. It was none too soon: +his pursuers were already on the landing; they did not stop there, +however, but went on up to the fourth floor, talking loudly among +themselves. After waiting till they had got some distance off, he left +the room on tiptoe and hurried down as fast as his legs would carry +him. No one on the stairs! No one either at the street door! He +stepped briskly outside, and, once in the street, turned to the left. + +He knew very well, he knew without a doubt, that they who were seeking +him were at that moment in the old woman's lodging, and were amazed to +find that the door, which a little while before had been shut so +securely, was now open. "They're examining the corpses," thought he; +"it won't take them a minute to come to the conclusion that the +murderer managed to hide himself from them as they went up the stairs; +perhaps they may even have a suspicion that he stowed himself away in +the empty lodging on the second floor while they were hurrying to the +upper part of the house." But, in spite of these reflections, he did +not dare to increase his pace, though he still had a hundred steps or +so to go before reaching the first turning. "Suppose I slipped into +some doorway, in some out-of-the-way street, and waited there a few +minutes? No, that would never do! I might throw my hatchet away +somewhere? or take a cab? No good! no good!" At last he reached a +narrow lane; he entered it more dead than alive. There, he was almost +in safety, and he knew it: in such a place, suspicion could hardly be +fixed upon him; while, on the other hand, it was easier for him to +avoid notice by mingling with the crowd. But all these agonizing +events had so enfeebled him that he could scarcely keep on his legs. +Great drops of perspiration streamed down his face; his neck was quite +wet. "I think you've had your fill!" shouted some one who took him for +a drunken man as he reached the canal bank. + +He no longer knew what he was doing; the farther he went, the more +obscure became his ideas. However, when he found himself on the quay, +he became frightened at seeing so few people there, and, fearing that +he might be noticed on so deserted a spot, he returned to the lane. +Though he had hardly the strength to put one leg before the other, he +nevertheless took the longest way to reach his home. He had scarcely +recovered his presence of mind even when he crossed the threshold; at +least the thought of the hatchet never came to him until he was on the +stairs. Yet the question he had to solve was a most serious one: it +consisted in returning the hatchet to the place he had taken it from, +and in doing so without attracting the least attention. Had he been +more capable of considering his position, he would certainly have +understood that, instead of replacing the hatchet, it would be far +safer to get rid of it by throwing it into the yard of some other +house. + +Nevertheless he met with no mishap. The door of the porter's lodge was +closed, though not locked; to all appearance, therefore, the porter +was at home. But Raskolnikoff had so thoroughly lost all faculty of +preparing any kind of plan, that he walked straight to the door and +opened it. If the porter had asked him: "What do you want?" perhaps he +would simply have handed him the hatchet. But, the same as on the +previous occasion, the porter was absent, and this gave the young man +every facility to replace the hatchet under the bench, exactly where +he had found it. Then he went upstairs and reached his room without +meeting a soul; the door of his landlady's apartments was shut. Once +home again, he threw himself on his couch just as he was. He did not +sleep, but lay in a sort of semiconsciousness. If anybody had then +appeared before him, he would have sprung up and cried out. His head +was swimming with a host of vague thoughts: do what he could, he was +unable to follow the thread of one of them. + +Raskolnikoff lay on the couch a very long while. At times he seemed to +rouse from this half sleep, and then he noticed that the night was +very far advanced, but still it never entered his head to rise. Soon +it began to brighten into day, and the dawn found him in a state of +stupefaction, lying motionless on his back. A desperate clamor, and +sounds of brawls from the streets below, rose to his ears. These +awakened him thoroughly, although he heard them every morning early at +the same hour. "Ah! two o'clock, drinking is over," and he started up +as though some one had pulled him off the couch. "What! two o'clock +already?" He sat on the edge of the couch and then recollected +everything, in an instant it all came back! At first he thought he was +going out of his mind, a strange chill pervaded his frame, but the +cold arose from the fever which had seized upon him during his sleep. +He shivered until his teeth chattered, and all his limbs fairly shook. +He went to the door, opened it, and listened; all was silent in the +house. With astonishment he turned and looked round the room. How +could he have come home the night before, not bolted the door, and +thrown himself on the couch just as he was, not only not undressed, +but with his hat on? There it lay in the middle of the floor where it +had rolled. "If anyone came in, what would he think? That I am drunk, +of course." + +He went to the window--it was pretty light--and looked himself all +over from head to foot, to see if there were any stains on his +clothes. But he could not rely upon that sort of inspection; so, still +shivering, he undressed and examined his clothes again, looking +everywhere with the greatest care. To make quite sure, he went over +them three times. He discovered nothing but a few drops of clotted +blood on the ends of his trousers which were very much frayed. He took +a big clasp-knife and cut off the frayed edges. Suddenly he remembered +that the purse and the things he had abstracted from the old woman's +chest, were still in his pockets! He had never thought of taking them +out and hiding them! indeed, it had never crossed his mind that they +were in his pockets while examining his clothes! Was it possible? In a +second he emptied all out on to the table in a heap. Then, turning his +pockets inside out to make sure there was nothing left in them, he +carried the things to a corner of the room. Just there, the paper was +hanging loose from the wall; he bent down and commenced to stuff all +the things into a hole behind the paper. "There, it's all out of +sight!" thought he gleefully, as he stood gazing stupidly at the spot +where the paper bulged out more than ever. Suddenly he began to +shudder from terror. "Good heavens!" murmured he in despair, "what is +the matter with me? Is that hidden? Is that the way to hide anything?" + +Indeed, he had not reckoned on such spoil, he had only thought of +taking the old woman's money; so he was not prepared with a hiding +place for the jewels. "I have no cause to rejoice now," thought he. +"Is that the way to hide anything? I must really be losing my senses!" +He sunk on the couch again exhausted; another fit of intolerable +shivering seized him, and he mechanically pulled his old student's +cloak over him for warmth, as he fell into a delirious sleep. He lost +all consciousness of himself. Not more than five minutes had elapsed +before he woke up in intense excitement, and bent over his clothes in +the deepest anguish. "How could I go to sleep again when nothing is +done! For I have done nothing, the loop is still where I sewed it. I +forgot all about that! What a convincing proof it would have been." He +ripped it off and tore it into shreds which he placed among his +underlinen under the pillow. "These rags cannot awaken any suspicions, +I fancy; at least, so it seems to me," repeated he, standing up in the +middle of the room, and, with an attempt rendered all the more painful +by the effort it cost him, he looked all round, trying to make sure he +had forgotten nothing. He suffered cruelly from this conviction, that +everything, even memory, even the most elementary prudence, was +abandoning him. + +"Can this be the punishment already beginning? Indeed! indeed! it is!" + +And indeed the frayed edges he had cut from the bottom of his trousers +were lying on the floor, in the middle of the room, exposed to the +view of the first comer. "But what can I be thinking of?" exclaimed he +in utter bewilderment. Then a strange idea came into his head; he +thought that perhaps all his clothes were saturated in blood, and that +he could not see this because his senses were gone and his perception +of things lost. Then he recollected that there would be traces on the +purse, and his pockets would be wet with blood. It was so. "I am +bereft of my reason, I know not what I am doing. Bah! not at all!--it +is only weakness, delirium. I shall soon be better." He tore at the +lining. At this moment the rays of the morning streamed in and shone +on his left boot. There were plain traces, and all the point was +covered. "I must have stepped in that pool. What shall I do now? Boot, +lining, rags, where shall they go?" He rolled them up and stood +thinking in the middle of the room. "Ah, the stove. Yes, burn them. +No, I cannot, I have no match. Better throw them away. Yes, yes, that +is the thing," said he, again sitting on the couch. "At once, and +without delay too, quick." But, instead, his head fell back upon the +pillow, and chilly shiverings again came over him. He covered himself +with his cloak and slept again. It appeared hours to him, and many a +time in his sleep he tried to rise to hasten to throw away his bundle, +but he could not, he seemed chained to the bed. At last he awoke, as +he heard a loud knock at his door. + +"Eh, open, will you?" cried Nastasia. "Don't lie there like a dog. +It's eleven o'clock." + +"Perhaps he is not in," said a man's voice. + +"The porter's voice. What does he want?" Raskolnikoff rose, and sat on +the couch listening. His heart throbbed violently. "Who has bolted the +door then?" exclaimed the servant. "Open, will you?" + +"All must be discovered?" He rose a little and undid the bolt, and +fell back again on his bed. There stood the porter and Nastasia. The +servant looked strangely at Raskolnikoff, while he fixed a despairing +glance upon the porter. + +"Here is a notice for you from the office," said the latter. + +"What office?" + +"The police office." + +"What for?" + +"I don't know. You are summoned there, go." The porter looked +anxiously at the lodger, and turned to leave. Raskolnikoff made no +observation, and held the paper unopened in his hand. + +"There, stay where you are," said Nastasia, seeing him fall back on +the couch. "If you are ill, do not go. What is that in your hand?" + +He looked down; in his right hand were clutched the pieces of frayed +cloth, his boot, and the lining of his pocket. He had evidently fallen +asleep with them as they were; indeed he recollected how, thinking +deeply about them, he had dozed away. + +"The idea of taking a lot of rags to bed and hugging them to you like +a treasure!" laughed the servant in her sickly manner. + +In a second he hid all under his coat and looked at her attentively. +Although little was capable of passing in his mind, he felt she would +not talk thus to a man under arrest for a crime. But then, the police? + +"Is there anything you want? You stay here, I will bring it." + +"No, I will go. I am going at once," murmured he, rising to his feet. + +"Very well." + +She went out after the porter. As soon as she had disappeared, he +rushed to the light to look at his boot. Yes, there were spots, but +not very plain, all covered with mud. But who would distinguish them? +Nastasia could know nothing, thank heavens! Then with trembling hand +he tore open the notice, and began to read. At last he understood; it +was simply the usual notice to report himself at the office of the +district that day at half-past nine o'clock. + +"But why to-day?" cried he. "Lord, let it be over soon." He was about +to fall down on his knees to pray, when a fit of laughter seized him. +"I must trust to myself, not to prayers." He quickly dressed himself. +"Shall I put the boot on?" he thought, "better throw it away, and hide +all traces of it." Nevertheless he put it on, only, however, to throw +it off again with an expression of horror. As, however, he recollected +he had no other, a smile came to his face, and he drew it on once +more. Again his face changed into deep despair, his limbs shook more +and more. "This is not from exertion," thought he, "it is fear." His +head spun round and round and his temples throbbed visibly. + +On the stairs he recollected that all the things were in the hole in +the wall, and then where was his certificate of birth? He stopped to +think. But such despair, and, if it may be so called, cynicism, took +hold of him, that he simply shook his head and went out. The sooner +over, the better. Once again in the open air, he encountered the same +insufferable heat, the dust, and the people in drink rolling about the +streets. The sun caught him full in the eyes and almost blinded him, +while his head spun round and round, as is usual in fever. On reaching +the turning into the street he had taken the day before, he glanced in +great agitation in the direction of the house, but immediately averted +his eyes again. "If they ask me, I should confess, perhaps," said he +to himself, as he turned away and made for the office. This was not +far distant, in a new house, on the fourth floor. As he entered the +court, he saw to the right of him a staircase, ascending which was a +man carrying some books. "It was evidently there." He did not think of +asking. + +"I will go and fall on my knees and confess all," he murmured, and +began to ascend the narrow and very steep stairs. On every floor the +doors of the kitchens of the several apartments stood open to the +staircase, and emitted a suffocating, sickening odor. The entrance to +the office he was in search of was also wide open, and he walked in. A +number of persons were waiting in the anteroom. The stench was simply +intolerable, and was intensified by the smell of fresh paint. Pausing +a little, he decided to advance farther into the small low room. He +became impatient when he found no one took any notice of him. In an +inner room were seated a number of clerks engaged in writing. He went +up to one of these. + +"What do you want?" Raskolnikoff showed him the notice. + +"You are a student?" asked a clerk, glancing at the notice. + +"Yes;--that is, I used to be." + +The clerk glanced at him--without, however, any particular curiosity. +He was a man with unkempt hair and an expressionless face. + +"There is nothing to be learned from him, evidently," thought +Raskolnikoff. + +"Step in there to the head clerk," said the man, pointing to a farther +room, which was quite full of people, among whom were two ladies. + +The assistant district officer, a man adorned with red whiskers +standing out on either side of his face, and with extremely small +features, looked up impatiently at Raskolnikoff, whose filthy attire +was by no means prepossessing. The latter returned his glance calmly +and straight in the face, and in such a manner as to give the officer +offense. + +"What do you want here?" he cried, apparently surprised that such a +ragged beggar was not knocked down by his thunder-bearing glance. + +"I am here because I was summoned," stammered Raskolnikoff. + +"It is for the recovery of money lent," said the head clerk. "Here!" +and he threw a paper to Raskolnikoff, "Read!" + +"Money? What money? It cannot be that," thought the young man, and he +trembled with joy. Everything became clear, and the load fell off his +shoulders. + +"At what hour did you receive this, sir?" cried the lieutenant; "you +were told to come at nine o'clock, and now it is nearly twelve!" + +"I received it a quarter of an hour ago," loudly replied Raskolnikoff, +over his shoulder, suddenly angered, "and it is sufficient to say that +I am ill with a fever." + +"Please not to bawl!" + +"I did not bawl, but spoke plainly; it is you that bawl. I am a +student, and am not going to have you speak to me in that fashion." + +The officer became enraged, and fumed so that only splutters flew out +of his mouth. He jumped up from his place. "Please keep silence. You +are in court. Don't be insolent." + +"And so are you in court; and, besides bawling, you are smoking, so +you are wanting in politeness to the whole company." As he said this, +Raskolnikoff felt an inexpressible delight at his maliciousness. The +clerk looked up with a smile. The choleric officer was clearly +nonplused. + +"That is not your business, sir," he cried at last, unnaturally loud. +"Make the necessary declaration. Show him, Alexander Gregorivitch. +Complaints have been made about you! You don't pay your debts! You +know how to fly the kite evidently!" + +Raskolnikoff did not listen, but greedily seized the paper. He read it +through more than once, and could make nothing of it. "What is this?" +he asked of the clerk. + +"It is a writ for recovery on a note of hand of yours. Please write," +said the clerk. + +"Write what?" asked he rudely. + +"As I dictate." + +The clerk stood near and dictated to him the usual form of +declaration: that he was unable to pay, that he would not quit the +capital, dispose of his goods in any way, etc., etc. + +"You cannot write, your pen is falling from your fingers," said the +clerk, and he looked him in the face. "Are you ill?" + +"Yes, my head swims. Go on." + +"That is all. Now sign it." + +Raskolnikoff let fall the pen, and seemed as if about to rise and go; +but, instead of doing so, he laid both elbows on the table and +supported his head with his hands. A new idea formed in his mind: to +rise immediately, go straight to Nicodemus Thomich the ward officer +and tell him all that had occurred; then to accompany him to his room, +and show him all the things hidden away in the wall behind the paper. +His desire to do all this was of such strength that he got up from the +table to carry his design into execution. "Reflect, reflect a moment!" +ran in his head. "No, better not think, get it off my shoulders." +Suddenly he stood still as if shot. Nicodemus Thomich was at this +moment hotly discussing something with Elia Petrovitch, the inspector +of police, and the words caught Raskolnikoff's anxious attention. He +listened. + +"It cannot be, they will both be released. In the first place, all is +contradictory. Consider. Why did they call the porter if it were their +work? To denounce themselves? Or out of cunning? Not at all, that +would be too much! Besides, did not the porter see the student +Pestriakoff at the very gate just as he came in, and he stood there +some time with three friends who had accompanied him. And Koch: was he +not below in the silversmith's for half an hour before he went up to +the old woman's? Now, consider." + +"But see what contradictions arise! They say they knocked and found +the door closed; yet three minutes after, when they went back with the +porter, it was open." + +"That's true. The murderer was inside, and had bolted the door, and +certainly he would have been captured had not Koch foolishly run off +to the porter. In the interval _he_, no doubt, had time to escape +downstairs. Koch explains that, if he had remained, the man would have +leaped out and killed him. He wanted to have a _Te Deum_ sung. Ha, +ha!" + +"Did nobody see the murderer?" + +"How could they? The house is a perfect Noah's ark," put in the clerk, +who had been listening. + +"The thing is clear, very clear," said Nicodemus Thomich decisively. + +"Not at all! Not at all!" cried Elia Petrovitch, in reply. + +Raskolnikoff took up his hat and made for the door, but he never +reached it. When he came to himself he found he was sitting on a +chair, supported on the right by some unknown man, while to his left +stood another, holding some yellow water in a yellow glass. Nicodemus +Thomich, standing before him, was looking at him fixedly. Raskolnikoff +rose. + +"What is it? Are you ill?" asked the officer sharply. + +"He could hardly hold the pen to sign his name," the clerk explained, +at the same time going back to his books. + +"Have you been ill very long?" cried Elia Petrovitch from his table; +he had run to see the swoon and returned to his place. + +"Since yesterday," murmured Raskolnikoff in reply. + +"You went out yesterday?" + +"I did." + +"Ill?" + +"Ill!" + +"At what time?" + +"Eight o'clock in the evening." + +"Where did you go, allow me to ask?" + +"In the streets." + +"Concise and clear." + +Raskolnikoff had replied sharply, in a broken voice, his face as pale +as a handkerchief, and with his black swollen eyes averted from Elia +Petrovitch's scrutinizing glance. + +"He can hardly stand on his legs. Do you want to ask anything more?" +said Nicodemus Thomich. + +"Nothing," replied Elia Petrovitch. + +Nicodemus Thomich evidently wished to say more, but, turning to the +clerk, who in turn glanced expressively at him, the latter became +silent, all suddenly stopped speaking. It was strange. + +Raskolnikoff went out. As he descended the stairs he could hear an +animated discussion had broken out, and above all, the interrogative +voice of Nicodemus Thomich. In the street he came to himself. + +"Search, search! they are going to search!" he cried. "The scoundrels, +they suspect me!" The old dread seized him again, from head to foot. + +Here was the room. All was quiet, and no one had, apparently, +disturbed it--not even Nastasia. But, heavens! how could he have left +all those things where they were? He rushed to the corner, pushed his +hands behind the paper, took out the things, and thrust them in his +pockets. There were eight articles in all: two little boxes with +earrings or something of that description, then four little morocco +cases; a chain wrapped up in paper, and something else done up in a +common piece of newspaper--possibly a decoration. Raskolnikoff +distributed these, together with the purse, about his person, in order +to make them less noticeable, and quitted the room again. All the time +he had left the door wide open. He went away hurriedly, fearing +pursuit. Perhaps in a few minutes orders would be issued to hunt him +down, so he must hide all traces of his theft at once; and he would do +so while he had strength and reason left him. But where should he go? + +This had been long decided. Throw the lot in the canal and the matter +would be at an end! So he had resolved in that night of delirium, when +he cried out, "Quick, quick! throw all away!" But this was not so +easy. He wandered to the quays of the Catherine Canal, and lingered +there for half an hour. Here a washing raft lay where he had thought +of sinking his spoil, or there boats were moored, and everywhere +people swarmed. Then, again, would the cases sink? Would they not +rather float? No, this would not do. He would go to the Neva; there +would be fewer people there and more room, and it would be more +convenient. He recognized that he had been wandering about for fully +half an hour, and in dangerous places. He must make haste. He made his +way to the river, but soon came to another standstill. Why in the +Neva? Why in the water at all? Better some solitary place in a wood, +or under some bushes. Dig a hole and bury them! He felt he was not in +a condition to deliberate clearly and soundly, but this idea appeared +the best. + +This idea also, however, was not destined to be realized, and another +took its place. As he passed the V---- Prospect, he suddenly noticed +on the left an entrance into a court, which was surrounded entirely by +high walls. On the right, a long way up the court, rose the side of a +huge four-storied building. To the left, parallel with the walls of +the house, and commencing immediately at the gate, there ran a wooden +boarding of about twenty paces down the court. Then came a space where +a lot of rubbish was deposited; while farther down, at the bottom of +the court, was a shed, apparently part of some workshop, possibly that +of a carpenter or coach builder. Everything appeared as black as coal +dust. Here was the very place, he thought; and, after looking round, +went up the court. Behind the door he espied a large unworked stone, +weighing about fifty pounds, which lay close up against the hoarding. +No one could see him where he stood; he was entirely free from +observation. He bent down to the stone, managed to turn it over after +considerable effort, and found underneath a small cavity. He threw in +the cases, and then the purse on the top of all. The stone was not +perceptibly higher when he had replaced it, and little traces of its +having been moved could be noticed. So he pressed some earth against +the edges with his foot, and made off. + +He laughed for joy when again in the street. All traces were gone, and +who would think of looking there? And if they were found who would +suspect him? All proofs were gone, and he laughed again. Yes, he +recollected afterwards how he laughed--a long, nervous, lingering +laugh, lasting all the time he was in that street. + +He reached home toward evening, perhaps at about eight o'clock--how, +and by what particular way he never recollected--but, speedily +undressing, he lay down on the couch, trembling like a beaten horse, +and, drawing his overcoat over him, he fell immediately into a deep +sleep. He awoke in a high fever and delirious. Some days later he came +to himself, rose and went out. It was eight o'clock, and the sun had +disappeared. The heat was as intolerable as before, but he inhaled the +dusty, fetid, infected town air with greediness. And now his head +began to spin round, and a wild expression of energy crept into his +inflamed eyes and pale, meager, wan face. He did not know, did not +even think, what he was going to do; he only knew that all was to be +finished "today," at one blow, immediately, or he would never return +home, because he had no desire to live thus. How to finish? By what +means? No matter how, and he did not want to think. He drove away any +thoughts which disturbed him, and only clung to the necessity of +ending all, "no matter how," said he, with desperate self-confidence +and decision. By force of habit he took his old walk, and set out in +the direction of the Haymarket. Farther on, he came on a young man who +was grinding some very feeling ballads upon a barrel organ. Near the +man, on the footpath, was a young girl of about fifteen years of age, +fashionably dressed, with crinoline, mantle, and gloves, and a straw +hat trimmed with gaudy feathers, but all old and terribly worn out, +who, in a loud and cracked though not altogether unpleasing voice, was +singing before a shop in expectation of a couple of kopecks. +Raskolnikoff stopped and joined one or two listeners, took out a +five-kopeck piece, and gave it to the girl. The latter at once stopped +on a very high note which she had just reached, and cried to the man, +"Come along," and both immediately moved on to another place. + +"Do you like street music?" said Raskolnikoff to a middle-aged man +standing near him. The latter looked at him in surprise, but smiled. +"I love it," continued Raskolnikoff, "especially when they sing to the +organ on a cold, dark, gray winter's evening, when all the passers-by +seem to have pale, green, sickly-looking faces--when the snow is +falling like a sleet, straight down and with no wind, you know, and +while the lamps shine on it all." + +"I don't know. Excuse me," said the man, frightened at the question +and Raskolnikoff's strange appearance, and hastily withdrawing to the +other side of the street. + +Raskolnikoff went on, and came to the place in the Haymarket where he +had met the trader and his wife and Elizabeth. No one was there at the +moment. He stopped, and turned to a young fellow, in a red shirt, who +was gaping at the entrance to a flour shop. + +"A man trades here at this corner, with his wife, eh?" + +"Everyone trades here," replied the lad, scanning his questioner from +head to foot. + +"What is he called?" + +"What he was christened." + +"But you belong to Zaraisk, don't you? To what Government?" + +The boy stared at Raskolnikoff. "We have no governor, your highness, +but districts. I stay at home, and know nothing about it, but my +brother does; so pardon me, your most mighty highness." + +"Is that an eating house there?" + +"That's a dram shop; they have a billiard table." + +"There are newspapers here?" asked he, as he entered a room--one of a +suite--rather empty. Two or three persons sat with tea before them, +while in a farther room a group of men were seated, drinking +champagne. Raskolnikoff thought he recognized Zametoff among them, but +he could not be sure. "Never mind, if it is!" he muttered. + +"Brandy, sir?" asked the waiter. + +"No, tea; and bring me some newspapers--for about the last five days. +I'll give you a drink." + +The papers and the tea appeared. Raskolnikoff sat and searched, and, +at last, found what he wanted. "Ah, here it is!" he cried, as he began +to read. The words danced before his eyes, but he read greedily to the +end, and turned to others for later intelligence. His hands trembled +with impatience, and the sheets shook again. Suddenly some one sat +down near him. He looked up, and there was Zametoff--that same +Zametoff, with his rings and chain, his oiled locks and fancy +waistcoat and unclean linen. He seemed pleased, and his tanned face, a +little inflamed by the champagne, wore a smile. + +"Ah! you here?" he commenced, in a tone as if he had known +Raskolnikoff for an age. "Why Razoumikhin told me yesterday that you +were lying unconscious. How strange! Then I was at your place----" + +Raskolnikoff laid down the paper and turned to Zametoff. On his lips +was a slight provoking smile. "I know you were," he replied, "I heard +so. You searched for my boot. To what agreeable places you resort. Who +gives you champagne to drink?" + +"We were drinking together. What do you mean?" + +"Nothing, dear boy, nothing," said Raskolnikoff, with a smile and +slapping Zametoff on the shoulders. "I am not in earnest, but simply +in fun, as your workman said, when he wrestled with Dmitri, you know, +in that murder case." + +"Do you know about that?" + +"Yes, and perhaps more than you do." + +"You are very peculiar. It is a pity you came out. You are ill." + +"Do I seem strange?" + +"Yes; what are you reading?" + +"The paper." + +"There are a number of fires." + +"I am not reading about them." He looked curiously at Zametoff, and a +malicious smile distorted his lips. "No, fires are not in my line," he +added, winking at Zametoff. "Now, I should like to know, sweet youth, +what it signifies to you what I read?" + +"Nothing at all. I only asked. Perhaps I----" + +"Listen. You are a cultivated man--a literary man, are you not?" + +"I was in the sixth class at college," Zametoff answered, with a +certain amount of dignity. + +"The sixth! Oh, my fine fellow! With rings and a chain--a rich man! +You are a dear boy," and Raskolnikoff gave a short, nervous laugh, +right in the face of Zametoff. The latter was very much taken aback, +and, if not offended, seemed a good deal surprised. + +"How strange you are!" said Zametoff seriously. "You have the fever +still on you; you are raving!" + +"Am I, my fine fellow--am I strange? Yes, but I am very interesting to +you, am I not?" + +"Interesting?" + +"Yes. You ask me what I am reading, what I am looking for; then I am +looking through a number of papers. Suspicious, isn't it? Well, I will +explain to you, or rather confess--no, not that exactly. I will give +testimony, and you shall take it down--that's it. So then, I swear +that I was reading, and came here on purpose"--Raskolnikoff blinked +his eyes and paused--"to read an account of the murder of the old +woman." He finished almost in a whisper, eagerly watching Zametoff's +face. The latter returned his glances without flinching. And it +appeared strange to Zametoff that a full minute seemed to pass as they +kept fixedly staring at each other in this manner. + +"Oh, so that's what you have been reading?" Zametoff at last cried +impatiently. "What is there in that?" "She is the same woman," +continued Raskolnikoff, still in a whisper, and taking no notice of +Zametoff's remark, "the very same woman you were talking about when I +swooned in your office. You recollect--you surely recollect?" + +"Recollect what?" said Zametoff, almost alarmed. + +The serious expression on Raskolnikoff's face altered in an instant, +and he again commenced his nervous laugh, and laughed as if he were +quite unable to contain himself. There had recurred to his mind, with +fearful clearness, the moment when he stood at the door with the +hatchet in his hand. There he was, holding the bolt, and they were +tugging and thumping away at the door. Oh, how he itched to shriek at +them, open the door, thrust out his tongue at them, and frighten them +away, and then laugh, "Ah, ah, ah, ah!" + +"You are insane, or else--" said Zametoff, and then paused as if a new +thought had suddenly struck him. + +"Or what, or what? Now what? Tell me!" + +"Nonsense!" said Zametoff to himself, "it can't be." Both became +silent. After this unexpected and fitful outburst of laughter, +Raskolnikoff had become lost in thought and looked very sad. He leaned +on the table with his elbows, buried his head in his hands, and seemed +to have quite forgotten Zametoff. The silence continued a long time. +"You do not drink your tea; it is getting cold," said the latter, at +last. + +"What? Tea? Yes!" Raskolnikoff snatched at his glass, put a piece of +bread in his mouth, and then, after looking at Zametoff, seemingly +recollected and roused himself. His face at once resumed its previous +smile, and he continued to sip his tea. + +"What a number of rogues there are about," Zametoff said. "I read not +long ago, in the Moscow papers, that they had captured a whole gang of +forgers in that city. Quite a colony." + +"That's old news. I read it a month ago," replied Raskolnikoff in a +careless manner. "And you call such as these rogues?" he added, +smiling. + +"Why not?" + +"Rogues indeed! Why, they are only children and babies. Fifty banded +together for such purposes! Is it possible? Three would be quite +sufficient, and then they should be sure of one another--not babble +over their cups. The babies! Then to hire unreliable people to change +the notes at the money changers', persons whose hands tremble as they +receive the rubles. On such their lives depend! Far better to strangle +yourself! The man goes in, receives the change, counts some over, the +last portion he takes on faith, stuffs all in his pocket, rushes away +and the murder is out. All is lost by one foolish man. Is it not +ridiculous?" + +"That his hands should shake?" replied Zametoff. "No; that is quite +likely. Yours would not, I suppose? I could not endure it, though. For +a paltry reward of a hundred rubles to go on such a mission! And +where? Into a banker's office with forged notes! I should certainly +lose my head. Would not you?" + +Raskolnikoff felt again a strong impulse to make a face at him. A +shiver ran down his back. "You would not catch me acting so +foolishly," he commenced. "This is how I should do. I should count +over the first thousand very carefully, perhaps four times, right to +the end, carefully examine each note, and then only pass to the second +thousand, count these as far as the middle of the bundle, take out a +note, hold it to the light, turn it over, then hold it to the light +again, and say, 'I fear this is a bad note,' and then begin to relate +some story about a lost note. Then there would be a third thousand to +count. Not yet, please, there is a mistake in the second thousand. No, +it is correct. And so I should proceed until I had received all. At +last I should turn to go, open the door, but, no, pardon me! I should +return, ask some question, receive some explanation, and there it is +all done." + +"What funny things you do say!" said Zametoff with a smile. "You are +all very well theoretically, but try it and see. Look, for example, at +the murder of the money lender, a case in point. There was a desperate +villain who in broad daylight stopped at nothing, and yet his hand +shook, did it not?--and he could not finish, and left all the spoil +behind him. The deed evidently robbed him of his presence of mind." + +This language nettled Raskolnikoff. "You think so? Then lay your hand +upon him," said he, maliciously delighted to tease him. + +"Never fear but we shall!" + +"You? Go to, you know nothing about it. All you think of inquiring is +whether a man is flinging money about; he is--then, _ergo_ he is +guilty." + +"That is exactly what they do," replied Zametoff, "they murder, risk +their lives, and then rush to the public house and are caught. Their +lavishness betrays them. You see they are not all so crafty as you +are. You would not run there, I suppose?" + +Raskolnikoff frowned and looked steadily at Zametoff. "You seem +anxious to know how I should act," he said with some displeasure. + +"I should very much like to know," replied Zametoff in a serious tone. +He seemed, indeed, very anxious. + +"Very much?" + +"Very much." + +"Good. This would be my plan," Raskolnikoff said, as he again bent +near to the face of his listener, and speaking in such a tragic +whisper as almost to make the latter shudder. "I should take the money +and all I could find, and make off, going, however, in no particular +direction, but on and on until I came to some obscure and inclosed +place, where no one was about--a market garden, or any such-like spot. +I should then look about me for a stone, perhaps a pound and a half in +weight, lying, it may be, in a corner against a partition, say a stone +used for building purposes; this I should lift up and under it there +would be a hole. In that hole I should deposit all the things I had +got, roll back the stone, stamp it down with my feet, and be off. For +a year I should let them lie--for two years, three years. Now then, +search for them! Where are they?" + +"You are indeed mad," said Zametoff, also in a low tone, but turning +away from Raskolnikoff. The latter's eyes glistened, he became paler +than ever, while his upper lip trembled violently. He placed his face +closer, if possible, to that of Zametoff, his lips moving as if he +wished to speak, but no words escaped them--several moments +elapsed--Raskolnikoff knew what he was doing, but felt utterly unable +to control himself, that strange impulse was upon him as when he stood +at the bolted door, to come forth and let all be known. + +"What if I killed the old woman and Elizabeth?" he asked suddenly, and +then--came to himself. + +Zametoff turned quite pale; then his face changed to a smile. "Can it +be so?" he muttered to himself. + +Raskolnikoff eyed him savagely. "Speak out. What do you think? Yes? Is +it so?" + +"Of course not. I believe it now less than ever," replied Zametoff +hastily. + +"Caught at last! caught, my fine fellow! What people believe less than +ever, they must have believed once, eh?" + +"Not at all. You frightened me into the supposition," said Zametoff, +visibly confused. + +"So you do not think this? Then why those questions in the office? Why +did the lieutenant question me after my swoon? Waiter," he cried, +seizing his cap, "here, how much?" + +"Thirty kopecks, sir," replied the man. + +"There you are, and twenty for yourself. Look, what a lot of money!" +turning to Zametoff and thrusting forth his shaking hand filled with +the twenty-five rubles, red and blue notes. "Whence comes all this? +Where did I obtain these new clothes from? You know I had none. You +have asked the landlady, I suppose? Well, no matter!--Enough! Adieu, +most affectionately." + +He went out, shaking from some savage hysterical emotion, a mixture of +delight, gloom, and weariness. His face was drawn as if he had just +recovered from a fit; and, as his agitation of mind increased, so did +his weakness. + +Meanwhile, Zametoff remained in the restaurant where Raskolnikoff had +left him, deeply buried in thought, considering the different points +Raskolnikoff had placed before him. + +His heart was empty and depressed, and he strove again to drive off +thought. No feeling of anguish came, neither was there any trace of +that fierce energy which moved him when he left the house to "put an +end to it all." + +"What will be the end of it? The result lies in my own will. What kind +of end? Ah, we are all alike, and accept the bit of ground for our +feet and live. Must this be the end? Shall I say the word or not? Oh, +how weary I feel! Oh, to lie down or sit anywhere! How foolish it is +to strive against my illness! Bah! What thoughts run through my +brain!" Thus he meditated as he went drowsily along the banks of the +canal, until, turning to the right and then to the left, he reached +the office building. He stopped short, however, and, turning down a +lane, went on past two other streets, with no fixed purpose, simply, +no doubt, to give himself a few moments longer for reflection. He went +on, his eyes fixed on the ground, until all of a sudden he started, as +if some one had whispered in his ear. Raising his eyes he saw that he +stood before _the house_, at its very gates. + +Quick as lightning, an idea rushed into his head, and he marched +through the yard and made his way up the well-known staircase to the +fourth story. It was, as usual, very dark, and as he reached each +landing he peered almost with caution. There was the room newly +painted, where Dmitri and Mikola had worked. He reached the fourth +landing and he paused before the murdered woman's room in doubt. The +door was wide open and he could hear voices within; this he had not +anticipated. However, after wavering a little, he went straight in. +The room was being done up, and in it were some workmen. This +astonished him--indeed, it would seem he had expected to find +everything as he had left it, even to the dead bodies lying on the +floor. But to see the place with bare walls and bereft of furniture +was very strange! He walked up to the windows and sat on the sill. One +of the workmen now saw him and cried: + +"What do you want here?" + +Instead of replying, Raskolnikoff walked to the outer door and, +standing outside, began to pull at the bell. Yes, that was the bell, +with its harsh sound. He pulled again and again three times, and +remained there listening and thinking. + +"What is it you want?" again cried the workman as he went out to +Raskolnikoff. + +"I wish to hire some rooms. I came to look at these." + +"People don't take lodgings in the night. Why don't you apply to the +porter?" + +"The floor has been washed. Are you going to paint it?" remarked +Raskolnikoff. "Where is the blood?" + +"What blood?" + +"The old woman's and her sister's. There was quite a pool." + +"Who are you?" cried the workman uneasily. + +"I am Rodion Romanovitch Raskolnikoff, ex-student. I live at the +house Schilla, in a lane not far from here, No. 14. Ask the porter +there--he knows me," Raskolnikoff replied indifferently, without +turning to his questioner. + +"What were you doing in those rooms?" + +"Looking at them." + +"What for? Come, out you go then, if you won't explain yourself," +suddenly shouted the porter, a huge fellow in a smock frock, with a +large bunch of keys round his waist; and he caught Raskolnikoff by the +shoulder and pitched him into the street. The latter lurched forward, +but recovered himself, and, giving one look at the spectators, went +quietly away. + +"What shall I do now?" thought Raskolnikoff. He was standing on the +bridge, near a crossing, and was looking around him as if expecting +some one to speak. But no one spoke, and all was dark and dull, and +dead--at least to him, and him alone. + +A few days later, Raskolnikoff heard from his friend Razoumikhin that +those who had borrowed money from Alena Ivanovna were going to the +police office to redeem their pledges. He went with Razoumikhin to the +office where they were received by Porphyrius Petrovitch, the +examining magistrate, who seemed to have expected them. + +"You have been expecting this visit? But how did you know that he had +pledged anything with Alena Ivanovna?" cried Razoumikhin. + +Porphyrius Petrovitch, without any further reply, said to +Raskolnikoff: "Your things, a ring and a watch, were at her place, +wrapped up in a piece of paper, and on this paper your name was +legibly written in pencil, with the date of the day she had received +these things from you." + +"What a memory you must have got!" said Raskolnikoff, with a forced +smile, doing his best to look the magistrate unflinchingly in the +face. However, he could not help adding: "I say so, because, as the +owners of the pledged articles are no doubt very numerous, you must, I +should fancy, have some difficulty in remembering them all; but I see, +on the contrary, that you do nothing of the kind. (Oh! fool! why add +that?)" + +"But they have nearly all of them come here; you alone had not done +so," answered Porphyrius, with an almost imperceptible sneer. + +"I happened to be rather unwell." + +"So I heard. I have been told that you have been in great pain. Even +now you are pale." + +"Not at all. I am not pale. On the contrary, I am very well!" answered +Raskolnikoff in a tone of voice which had all at once become brutal +and violent. He felt rising within him uncontrollable anger. "Anger +will make me say some foolish thing," he thought. "But why do they +exasperate me?" + +"He was rather unwell! A pretty expression, to be sure!" exclaimed +Razoumikhin. "The fact is that up to yesterday he has been almost +unconscious. Would you believe it, Porphyrius? Yesterday, when he +could hardly stand upright, he seized the moment when we had just left +him, to dress, to be off by stealth, and to go loafing about, Heaven +only knows where, till midnight, being, all the time, in a completely +raving condition. Can you imagine such a thing? It is a most +remarkable case!" + +"Indeed! In a completely raving state?" remarked Porphyrius, with the +toss of the head peculiar to Russian rustics. + +"Absurd! Don't you believe a word of it! Besides, I need not urge you +to that effect--of course you are convinced," observed Raskolnikoff, +beside himself with passion. But Porphyrius Petrovitch did not seem to +hear these singular words. + +"How could you have gone out if you had not been delirious?" asked +Razoumikhin, getting angry in his turn. "Why have gone out at all? +What was the object of it? And, above all, to go in that secret +manner? Come, now, make a clean breast of it--you know you were out of +your mind, were you not? Now that danger is gone by, I tell you so to +your face." + +"I had been very much annoyed yesterday," said Raskolnikoff, +addressing the magistrate, with more or less of insolence in his +smile, "and, wishing to get rid of them, I went out to hire lodgings +where I could be sure of privacy, to effect which I had taken a +certain amount of money. Mr. Zametoff saw what I had by me, and +perhaps he can say whether I was in my right senses yesterday or +whether I was delirious? Perhaps he will judge as to our quarrel." +Nothing would have pleased him better than there and then to have +strangled that gentleman, whose taciturnity and equivocal facial +expression irritated him. + +"In my opinion, you were talking very sensibly and even with +considerable shrewdness; only I thought you too irritable," observed +Zametoff off-handedly. + +"Do let us have some tea! We are as dry as fishes!" exclaimed +Razoumikhin. + +"Good idea! But perhaps you would like something more substantial +before tea, would you?" + +"Look alive, then!" + +Porphyrius Petrovitch went out to order tea. All kinds of thoughts +were at work in Raskolnikoff's brain. He was excited. "They don't even +take pains to dissemble; they certainly don't mince matters as far as +I am concerned: that is something, at all events! Since Porphyrius +knew next to nothing about me, why on earth should he have spoken with +Nicodemus Thomich Zametoff at all? They even scorn to deny that they +are on my track, almost like a pack of hounds! They certainly speak +out plainly enough!" he said, trembling with rage. "Well, do so, as +bluntly as you like, but don't play with me as the cat would with the +mouse! That's not quite civil, Porphyrius Petrovitch; I won't quite +allow that yet! I'll make a stand and tell you some plain truths to +your faces, and then you shall find out my real opinion about you!" He +had some difficulty in breathing. "But supposing that all this is pure +fancy?--a kind of mirage? Suppose I had misunderstood? Let me try and +keep up my nasty part, and not commit myself, like the fool, by blind +anger! Ought I to give them credit for intentions they have not? Their +words are, in themselves, not very extraordinary ones--so much must be +allowed; but a double meaning may lurk beneath them. Why did +Porphyrius, in speaking of the old woman, simply say 'At her place?' +Why did Zametoff observe that I had spoken very sensibly? Why their +peculiar manner?--yes, it is this manner of theirs. How is it possible +that all this cannot have struck Razoumikhin? The booby never notices +anything! But I seem to be feverish again! Did Porphyrius give me a +kind of wink just now, or was I deceived in some way? The idea is +absurd! Why should he wink at me? Perhaps they intend to upset my +nervous organization, and, by so doing, drive me to extremes! Either +the whole thing is a phantasmagoria, or--they know!" + +These thoughts flashed through his mind with the rapidity of +lightning. Porphyrius Petrovitch came back a moment afterwards. He +seemed in a very good temper. "When I left your place yesterday, old +fellow, I was really not well," he commenced, addressing Razoumikhin +with a cheeriness which was only just becoming apparent, "but that is +all gone now." + +"Did you find the evening a pleasant one? I left you in the thick of +the fun; who came off best?" + +"Nobody, of course. They caviled to their heart's content over their +old arguments." + +"Fancy, Rodia, the discussion last evening turned on the question: +'Does crime exist? Yes, or No.' And the nonsense they talked on the +subject!" + +"What is there extraordinary in the query? It is the social question +without the charm of novelty," answered Raskolnikoff abruptly. + +"Talking of crime," said Porphyrius Petrovitch, speaking to +Raskolnikoff, "I remember a production of yours which greatly +interested me. I am speaking about your article _on crime_. I don't +very well remember the title. I was delighted in reading it two months +ago in the _Periodical Word."_ + +"But how do you know the article was mine? I only signed it with an +initial." + +"I discovered it lately, quite by chance. The chief editor is a friend +of mine; it was he who let out the secret of your authorship. The +article has greatly interested me." + +"I was analyzing, if I remember rightly, the psychological condition +of a criminal at the moment of his deed." + +"Yes, and you strove to prove that a criminal, at such a moment, is +always, mentally, more or less unhinged. That point of view is a very +original one, but it was not this part of your article which most +interested me. I was particularly struck by an idea at the end of the +article, and which, unfortunately, you have touched upon too +cursorily. In a word, if you remember, you maintained that there are +men in existence who can, or more accurately, who have an absolute +right to commit all kinds of wicked and criminal acts--men for whom, +to a certain extent, laws do not exist." + +"Is it not very likely that some coming Napoleon did for Alena +Ivanovna last week?" suddenly blustered Zametoff from his corner. + +Without saying a word, Raskolnikoff fixed on Porphyrius a firm and +penetrating glance. Raskolnikoff was beginning to look sullen. He +seemed to have been suspecting something for some time past. He looked +round him with an irritable air. For a moment there was an ominous +silence. Raskolnikoff was getting ready to go. + +"What, are you off already?" asked Porphyrius, kindly offering the +young man his hand with extreme affability. "I am delighted to have +made your acquaintance. And as for your application, don't be uneasy +about it. Write in the way I suggested. Or, perhaps, you had better do +this. Come and see me before long--to-morrow, if you like. I shall be +here without fail at eleven o'clock. We can make everything +right--we'll have a chat--and as you were one of the last that went +_there_, you might be able to give some further particulars?" he +added, with his friendly smile. + +"Do you wish to examine me formally?" Raskolnikoff inquired, in an +uncomfortable tone. + +"Why should I? Such a thing is out of the question. You have +misunderstood me. I ought to tell you that I manage to make the most +of every opportunity. I have already had a chat with every single +person that has been in the habit of pledging things with the old +woman--several have given me very useful information--and as you +happen to be the last one--By the by," he exclaimed, with sudden +pleasure, "how lucky I am thinking about it, I was really going to +forget it!" (Saying which he turned to Razoumikhin.) "You were almost +stunning my ears, the other day, talking about Mikolka. Well, I am +certain, quite certain, as to his innocence," he went on, once more +addressing himself to Raskolnikoff. "But what was to be done? It has +been necessary to disturb Dmitri. Now, what I wanted to ask was: On +going upstairs--was it not between seven and eight you entered the +house?" + +"Yes," replied Raskolnikoff, and he immediately regretted an answer he +ought to have avoided. + +"Well, in going upstairs, between seven and eight, did you not see on +the second floor, in one of the rooms, when the door was wide +open--you remember, I dare say?--did you not see two painters, or, at +all events, one of the two? They were whitewashing the room, I +believe; you must have seen them! The matter is of the utmost +importance to them!" + +"Painters, you say? I saw none," replied Raskolnikoff slowly, trying +to sound his memory: for a moment he violently strained it to +discover, as quickly as he could, the trap concealed by the +magistrate's question. "No, I did not see a single one; I did not even +see any room standing open," he went on, delighted at having +discovered the trap, "but on the fourth floor I remember noticing that +the man lodging on the same landing as Alena Ivanovna was in the act +of moving. I remember that very well, as I met a few soldiers carrying +a sofa, and I was obliged to back against the wall; but, as for +painters, I don't remember seeing a single one--I don't even remember +a room that had its door open. No, I saw nothing." + +"But what are you talking about?" all at once exclaimed Razoumikhin, +who, till that moment, had attentively listened; "it was on the very +day of the murder that painters were busy in that room, while he came +there two days previously! Why are you asking that question?" + +"Right! I have confused the dates!" cried Porphyrius, tapping his +forehead. "Deuce take me! That job makes me lose my head!" he added by +way of excuse, and speaking to Raskolnikoff. "It is very important +that we should know if anybody saw them in that room between seven and +eight. I thought I might have got that information from you without +thinking any more about it. I had positively confused the days!" + +"You ought to be more attentive!" grumbled Razoumikhin. + +These last words were uttered in the anteroom, as Porphyrius very +civilly led his visitors to the door. They were gloomy and morose on +leaving the house, and had gone some distance before speaking. +Raskolnikoff breathed like a man who had just been subjected to a +severe trial. + +When, on the following day, precisely at eleven o'clock, Raskolnikoff +called on the examining magistrate, he was astonished to have to dance +attendance for a considerable time. According to his idea, he ought to +have been admitted immediately; ten minutes, however, elapsed before +he could see Porphyrius Petrovitch. In the outer room where he had +been waiting, people came and went without heeding him in the least. +In the next room, which was a kind of office, a few clerks were at +work, and it was evident that not one of them had even an idea who +Raskolnikoff might be. The young man cast a mistrustful look about +him. "Was there not," thought he, "some spy, some mysterious myrmidon +of the law, ordered to watch him, and, if necessary, to prevent his +escape?" But he noticed nothing of the kind; the clerks were all hard +at work, and the other people paid him no kind of attention. The +visitor began to become reassured. "If," thought he, "this mysterious +personage of yesterday, this specter which had risen from the bowels +of the earth, knew all, and had seen all, would they, I should like to +know, let me stand about like this? Would they not rather have +arrested me, instead of waiting till I should come of my own accord? +Hence this man has either made no kind of revelation as yet about me, +or, more probably, he knows nothing, and has seen nothing (besides how +could he have seen anything?): consequently I have misjudged, and all +that happened yesterday was nothing but an illusion of my diseased +imagination." This explanation, which had offered itself the day +before to his mind, at the time he felt most fearful, he considered a +more likely one. + +Whilst thinking about all this and getting ready for a new struggle, +Raskolnikoff suddenly perceived that he was trembling; he became +indignant at the very thought that it was fear of an interview with +the hateful Porphyrius Petrovitch which led him to do so. The most +terrible thing to him was to find himself once again in presence of +this man. He hated him beyond all expression, and what he dreaded was +lest he might show this hatred. His indignation was so great that it +suddenly stopped this trembling; he therefore prepared himself to +enter with a calm and self-possessed air, promised himself to speak as +little as possible, to be very carefully on the watch in order to +check, above all things, his irascible disposition. In the midst of +these reflections, he was introduced to Porphyrius Petrovitch. The +latter was alone in his office, a room of medium dimensions, +containing a large table, facing a sofa covered with shiny leather, a +bureau, a cupboard standing in a corner, and a few chairs: all this +furniture, provided by the State, was of yellow wood. In the wall, or +rather in the wainscoting of the other end, there was a closed door, +which led one to think that there were other rooms behind it. As soon +as Porphyrius Petrovitch had seen Raskolnikoff enter his office, he +went to close the door which had given him admission, and both stood +facing one another. The magistrate received his visitor to all +appearances in a pleasant and affable manner, and it was only at the +expiration of a few moments that the latter observed the magistrate's +somewhat embarrassed manner--he seemed to have been disturbed in a +more or less clandestine occupation. + +"Good! my respectable friend! Here you are then--in our latitudes!" +commenced Porphyrius, holding out both hands. "Pray, be seated, +_batuchka_! But, perhaps, you don't like being called respectable? +Therefore, _batuchka_, for short! Pray, don't think me familiar. Sit +down here on the sofa." + +Raskolnikoff did so without taking his eyes off the judge. "These +words 'in our latitudes,' these excuses for his familiarity, this +expression 'for short,' what could be the meaning of all this? He held +out his hands to me without shaking mine, withdrawing them before I +could do so," thought Raskolnikoff mistrustfully. Both watched each +other, but no sooner did their eyes meet than they both turned them +aside with the rapidity of a flash of lightning. + +"I have called with this paper--about the---- If you please. Is it +correct, or must another form be drawn up?" "What, what paper? Oh, +yes! Do not put yourself out. It is perfectly correct," answered +Porphyrius somewhat hurriedly, before he had even examined it; then, +after having cast a glance on it, he said, speaking very rapidly: +"Quite right, that is all that is required," and placed the sheet on +the table. A moment later he locked it up in his bureau, chattering +about other things. + +"Yesterday," observed Raskolnikoff, "you had, I fancy, a wish to +examine me formally--with reference to my dealings with--the victim? +At least so it seemed to me!" + +"Why did I say, 'So it seemed?'" reflected the young man all of a +sudden. "After all, what can be the harm of it? Why should I distress +myself about that!" he added, mentally, a moment afterwards. The very +fact of his proximity to Porphyrius, with whom he had scarcely as yet +interchanged a word, had immeasurably increased his mistrust; he +marked this in a moment, and concluded that such a mood was an +exceedingly dangerous one, inasmuch as his agitation, his nervous +irritation, would only increase. "That is bad! very bad! I shall be +saying something thoughtless!" + +"Quite right. But do not put yourself out of the way, there is time, +plenty of time," murmured Petrovitch, who, without apparent design, +kept going to and fro, now approaching the window, now his bureau, to +return a moment afterwards to the table. At times he would avoid +Raskolnikoff's suspicious look, at times again he drew up sharp whilst +looking his visitor straight in the face. The sight of this short +chubby man, whose movements recalled those of a ball rebounding from +wall to wall, was an extremely odd one. "No hurry, no hurry, I assure +you! But you smoke, do you not! Have you any tobacco? Here is a +cigarette!" he went on, offering his visitor a paquitos. "You notice +that I am receiving you here, but my quarters are there behind the +wainscoting. The State provides me with that. I am here as it were on +the wing, because certain alterations are being made in my rooms. +Everything is almost straight now. Do you know that quarters provided +by the State are by no means to be despised?" + +"I believe you," answered Raskolnikoff, looking at him almost +derisively. + +"Not to be despised, by any means," repeated Porphyrius Petrovitch, +whose mind seemed to be preoccupied with something else--"not to be +despised!" he continued in a very loud tone of voice, and drawing +himself up close to Raskolnikoff, whom he stared out of countenance. +The incessant repetition of the statement that quarters provided by +the State were by no means to be despised contrasted singularly, by +its platitude, with the serious, profound, enigmatical look he now +cast on his visitor. + +Raskolnikoff's anger grew in consequence; he could hardly help +returning the magistrate's look with an imprudently scornful glance, +"Is it true?" the latter commenced, with a complacently insolent air, +"is it true that it is a judicial maxim, a maxim resorted to by all +magistrates, to begin an interview about trifling things, or even, +occasionally, about more serious matter, foreign to the main question +however, with a view to embolden, to distract, or even to lull the +suspicion of a person under examination, and then all of a sudden to +crush him with the main question, just as you strike a man a blow +straight between the eyes?" + +"Such a custom, I believe, is religiously observed in your profession, +is it not?" + +"Then you are of opinion that when I spoke to you about quarters +provided by the State, I did so----" Saying which, Porphyrius +Petrovitch blinked, his face assumed for a moment an expression of +roguish gayety, the wrinkles on his brow became smoothed, his small +eyes grew smaller still, his features expanded, and, looking +Raskolnikoff straight in the face, he burst out into a prolonged fit +of nervous laughter, which shook him from head to foot. The young man, +on his part, laughed likewise, with more or less of an effort, +however, at sight of which Porphyrius's hilarity increased to such an +extent that his face grew nearly crimson. At this Raskolnikoff +experienced more or less aversion, which led him to forget all +caution; he ceased laughing, knitting his brows, and, whilst +Porphyrius gave way to his hilarity, which seemed a somewhat feigned +one, he fixed on him a look of hatred. In truth, they were both off +their guard. Porphyrius had, in fact, laughed at his visitor, who had +taken this in bad part; whereas the former seemed to care but little +about Raskolnikoff's displeasure. This circumstance gave the young man +much matter for thought. He fancied that his visit had in no kind of +way discomposed the magistrate; on the contrary, it was Raskolnikoff +who had been caught in a trap, a snare, an ambush of some kind or +other. The mine was, perhaps, already charged, and might burst at any +moment. + +Anxious to get straight to the point, Raskolnikoff rose and took up +his cap. "Porphyrius Petrovitch," he cried, in a resolute tone of +voice, betraying more or less irritation, "yesterday you expressed the +desire to subject me to a judicial examination." (He laid special +stress on this last word.) "I have called at your bidding; if you have +questions to put, do so: if not, allow me to withdraw. I can't afford +to waste my time here, as I have other things to attend to. In a word, +I must go to the funeral of the official who has been run over, and of +whom you have heard speak," he added, regretting, however, the last +part of his sentence. Then, with increasing anger, he went on: "Let me +tell you that all this worries me! The thing is hanging over much too +long. It is that mainly that has made me ill. In one word,"--he +continued, his voice seeming more and more irritable, for he felt that +the remark about his illness was yet more out of place than the +previous one--"in one word, either be good enough to cross-examine me, +or let me go this very moment. If you do question me, do so in the +usual formal way; otherwise, I shall object. In the meanwhile, adieu, +since we have nothing more to do with one another." + +"Good gracious! What can you be talking about? Question you about +what?" replied the magistrate, immediately ceasing his laugh. "Don't, +I beg, disturb yourself." He requested Raskolnikoff to sit down once +more, continuing, nevertheless, his tramp about the room. "There is +time, plenty of time. The matter is not of such importance after all. +On the contrary, I am delighted at your visit--for as such do I take +your call. As for my horrid way of laughing, _batuchka_, Rodion +Romanovitch, I must apologize. I am a nervous man, and the shrewdness +of your observations has tickled me. There are times when I go up and +down like an elastic ball, and that for half an hour at a time. I am +fond of laughter. My temperament leads me to dread apoplexy. But, +pray, do sit down--why remain standing? Do, I must request you, +_batuchka_; otherwise I shall fancy that you are cross." + +His brows still knit, Raskolnikoff held his tongue, listened, and +watched. In the meanwhile he sat down. + +"As far as I am concerned, _batuchka_, Rodion Romanovitch, I will tell +you something which shall reveal to you my disposition," answered +Porphyrius Petrovitch, continuing to fidget about the room, and, as +before, avoiding his visitor's gaze. "I live alone, you must know, +never go into society, and am, therefore, unknown; add to which, that +I am a man on the shady side of forty, somewhat played out. You may +have noticed, Rodion Romanovitch, that here--I mean in Russia, of +course, and especially in St. Petersburg circles--that when two +intelligent men happen to meet who, as yet, are not familiar, but who, +however, have mutual esteem--as, for instance, you and I have at this +moment--don't know what to talk about for half an hour at a time. They +seem, both of them, as if petrified. Everyone else has a subject for +conversation--ladies, for instance, people in society, the upper +ten--all these sets have some topic or other. It is the thing, but +somehow people of the middle-class, like you and I, seem constrained +and taciturn. How does that come about, _batuchka_? Have we no social +interests? Or is it, rather, owing to our being too straightforward to +mislead one another? I don't know. What is your opinion, pray? But do, +I beg, remove your cap; one would really fancy that you wanted to be +off, and that pains me. I, you must know, am so contented." + +Raskolnikoff laid his cap down. He did not, however, become more +loquacious; and, with knit brows, listened to Porphyrius's idle +chatter. "I suppose," thought he, "he only doles out his small talk to +distract my attention." + +"I don't offer you any coffee," went on the inexhaustible Porphyrius, +"because this is not the place for it, but can you not spend a few +minutes with a friend, by way of causing him some little distraction? +You must know that all these professional obligations--don't be vexed, +_batuchka_, if you see me walking about like this, I am sure you will +excuse me, if I tell you how anxious I am not to do so, but movement +is so indispensable to me! I am always seated--and, to me, it is quite +a luxury to be able to move about for a minute or two. I purpose, in +fact, to go through a course of calisthenics. The trapeze is said to +stand in high favor amongst State counselors--counselors in office, +even amongst privy counselors. Nowadays, in fact, gymnastics have +become a positive science. As for these duties of our office, these +examinations, all this formality--you yourself, you will remember, +touched upon the topic just now, _batuchka_--these examinations, and +so forth, sometimes perplex the magistrate much more than the man +under suspicion. You said as much just now with as much sense as +accuracy." (Raskolnikoff had made no statement of the kind.) "One gets +confused, one loses the thread of the investigation. Yet, as far as +our judicial customs go, I agree with you fully. Where, for instance, +is there a man under suspicion of some kind or other, were it even the +most thick-headed moujik, who does not know that the magistrate will +commence by putting all sorts of out-of-the-way questions to take him +off the scent (if I may be allowed to use your happy simile), and that +then he suddenly gives him one between the eyes? A blow of the ax on +his sinciput (if again I may be permitted to use your ingenious +metaphor)? Hah, hah! And do you mean to say that when I spoke to you +about quarters provided by the State, that--hah, hah! You are very +caustic. But I won't revert to that again. By-and-by!--one remark +produces another, one thought attracts another--but you were talking +just now of the practice or form in vogue with the examining +magistrate. But what is this form? You know as I do that in many cases +the form means nothing at all. Occasionally a simple conversation, a +friendly interview, brings about a more certain result. The practice +or form will never die out--I can vouch for that; but what, after all, +is the form, I ask once more? You can't compel an examining magistrate +to be hampered or bound by it everlastingly. His duty or method is, in +its way, one of the liberal professions or something very much like +it." + +Porphyrius Petrovitch stopped a moment to take breath. He kept on +talking, now uttering pure nonsense, now again introducing, in spite +of this trash, an occasional enigmatical remark, after which he went +on with his insipidities. His tramp about the room was more like a +race--he moved his stout legs more and more quickly, without looking +up; his right hand was thrust deep in the pocket of his coat, whilst +with the left he unceasingly gesticulated in a way unconnected with +his observations. Raskolnikoff noticed, or fancied he noticed, that, +whilst running round and round the room, he had twice stopped near the +door, seeming to listen. "Does he expect something?" he asked himself. + +"You're perfectly right," resumed Porphyrius cheerily, whilst looking +at the young man with a kindliness which immediately awoke the +latter's distrust. "Our judicial customs deserve your satire. Our +proceedings, which are supposed to be inspired by a profound knowledge +of psychology, are very ridiculous ones, and very often useless. Now, +to return to our method or form: Suppose for a moment that I am +deputed to investigate something or other, and that I know the guilty +person to be a certain gentleman. Are you not yourself reading for the +law, Rodion Romanovitch?" + +"I was some time ago." + +"Well, here is a kind of example which may be of use to you later on. +Don't run away with the idea that I am setting up as your +instructor--God forbid that I should presume to teach anything to a +man who treats criminal questions in the public press! Oh, no!--all I +am doing is to quote to you, by way of example, a trifling fact. +Suppose that I fancy I am convinced of the guilt of a certain man, +why, I ask you, should I frighten him prematurely, assuming me to have +every evidence against him? Of course, in the case of another man of a +different disposition, him I would have arrested forthwith; but, as to +the former, why should I not permit him to hang about a little longer? +I see you do not quite take me. I will, therefore, endeavor to explain +myself more clearly! If, for instance, I should be too quick in +issuing a writ, I provide him in doing so with a species of moral +support or mainstay--I see you are laughing?" (Raskolnikoff, on the +contrary, had no such desire; his lips were set, and his glaring look +was not removed from Porphyrius's eyes.) "I assure you that in actual +practice such is really the case; men vary much, although, +unfortunately, our methods are the same for all. But you will ask me: +Supposing you are certain of your proofs? Goodness me, _batuchka_! you +know, perhaps as well as I do, what proofs are--half one's time, +proofs may be taken either way; and I, a magistrate, am, after all, +only a man liable to error. + +"Now, what I want is to give to my investigation the precision of a +mathematical demonstration--I want my conclusions to be as plain, as +indisputable, as that twice two are four. Now, supposing I have this +gentleman arrested prematurely, though I may be positively certain +that he is _the man,_ yet I deprive myself of all future means of +proving his guilt. How is that? Because, so to say, I give him, to a +certain extent, a definite status; for, by putting him in prison, I +pacify him. I give him the chance of investigating his actual state of +mind--he will escape me, for he will reflect. In a word, he knows that +he is a prisoner, and nothing more. If, on the contrary, I take no +kind of notice of the man I fancy guilty, if I do not have him +arrested, if I in no way set him on his guard--but if the unfortunate +creature is hourly, momentarily, possessed by the suspicion that I +know all, that I do not lose sight of him either by night or by day, +that he is the object of my indefatigable vigilance--what do you ask +will take place under these circumstances? He will lose his +self-possession, he will come of his own accord to me, he will provide +me with ample evidence against himself, and will enable me to give to +the conclusion of my inquiry the accuracy of mathematical proofs, +which is not without its charm. + +"If such a course succeeds with an uncultured moujik, it is equally +efficacious when it concerns an enlightened, intelligent, or even +distinguished man. For the main thing, my dear friend, is to determine +in what sense a man is developed. The man, I mean, is intelligent, but +he has nerves which are _over_-strung. And as for bile--the bile you +are forgetting, that plays no small part with similar folk! Believe +me, here we have a very mine of information! And what is it to me +whether such a man walk about the place in perfect liberty? Let him be +at ease--I know him to be my prey, and that he won't escape me! Where, +I ask you, could he go to? You may say abroad. A Pole may do so--but +my man, never! especially as I watch him, and have taken steps in +consequence. Is he likely to escape into the very heart of our +country? Not he! for there dwell coarse moujiks, and primitive +Russians, without any kind of civilization. My educated friend would +prefer going to prison, rather than be in the midst of such +surroundings. Besides, what I have been saying up to the present is +not the main point--it is the exterior and accessory aspect of the +question. He won't escape--not only because he won't know where to go +to, but especially, and above all, because he is mine from the +_psychological_ point of view. What do you think of this explanation? +In virtue of a natural law, he will not escape, even if he could do +so! Have you ever seen a butterfly close to the candle? My man will +hover incessantly round me in the same way as the butterfly gyrates +round the candle-light. Liberty will have no longer charms for him; he +will grow more and more restless, more and more amazed--let me but +give him plenty of time, and he will demean himself in a way to prove +his guilt as plainly as that twice two our four! Yes, he will keep +hovering about me, describing circles, smaller and smaller, till at +last--bang! He has flown into my clutches, and I have got him. That is +very nice. You don't think so, perhaps?" + +Raskolnikoff kept silent. Pale and immovable, he continued to watch +Porphyrius's face with a labored effort of attention. "The lesson is a +good one!" he reflected. "But it is not, as yesterday, a case of the +cat playing with the mouse. Of course, he does not talk to me in this +way for the mere pleasure of showing me his hand; he is much too +intelligent for that. He must have something else in view--what can it +be? Come, friend, what you do say is only to frighten me. You have no +kind of evidence, and the man of yesterday does not exist! All you +wish is to perplex me--to enrage me, so as to enable you to make your +last move, should you catch me in such a mood, but you will not; all +your pains will be in vain! But why should he speak in such covert +terms? I presume he must be speculating on the excitability of my +nervous system. But, dear friend, that won't go down, in spite of your +machinations. We will try and find out what you really have been +driving at." + +And he prepared to brave boldly the terrible catastrophe he +anticipated. Occasionally the desire came upon him to rush on +Porphyrius, and to strangle him there and then. From the first moment +of having entered the magistrate's office what he had dreaded most +was, lest he might lose his temper. He felt his heart beating +violently, his lips become parched, his spittle congealed. He +resolved, however, to hold his tongue, knowing that, under the +circumstances, such would be the best tactics. By similar means, he +felt sure that he would not only not become compromised, but that he +might succeed in exasperating his enemy, in order to let him drop some +imprudent observation. This, at all events, was Raskolnikoff's hope. + +"I see you don't believe, you think I am jesting," continued +Porphyrius, more and more at his ease, without ceasing to indulge in +his little laugh, whilst continuing his perambulation about the room. +"You may be right. God has given me a face which only arouses comical +thoughts in others. I'm a buffoon. But excuse an old man's cackle. +You, Rodion Romanovitch, you are in your prime, and, like all young +people, you appreciate, above all things, human intelligence. +Intellectual smartness and abstract rational deductions entice you. +But, to return to the _special case_ we were talking about just now. I +must tell you that we have to deal with reality, with nature. This is +a very important thing, and how admirably does she often foil the +highest skill! Listen to an old man; I am speaking quite seriously, +Rodion"--(on saying which Porphyrius Petrovitch, who was hardly +thirty-five years of age, seemed all of a sudden to have aged, a +sudden metamorphosis had taken place in the whole of his person, nay, +in his very voice)--"to an old man who, however, is not wanting in +candor. Am I or am I not candid? What do you think? It seems to me +that a man could hardly be more so--for do I not reveal confidence, +and that without the prospect of reward? But, to continue, acuteness +of mind is, in my opinion, a very fine thing; it is to all intents and +purposes an ornament of nature, one of the consolations of life by +means of which it would appear a poor magistrate can be easily gulled, +who, after all, is often misled by his own imagination, for he is only +human. But nature comes to the aid of this human magistrate! There's +the rub! And youth, so confident in its own intelligence, youth which +tramples under foot every obstacle, forgets this! + +"Now, in the _special case_ under consideration, the guilty man, I +will assume, lies hard and fast, but, when he fancies that all that is +left him will be to reap the reward of his mendacity, behold, he will +succumb in the very place where such an accident is likely to be most +closely analyzed. Assuming even that he may be in a position to +account for his syncope by illness or the stifling atmosphere of the +locality, he has none the less given rise to suspicion! He has lied +incomparably, but he has counted without nature. Here is the pitfall! +Again, a man off his guard, from an unwary disposition, may delight in +mystifying another who suspects him, and may wantonly pretend to be +the very criminal wanted by the authorities; in such a case, he will +represent the person in question a little too closely, he will place +his foot a little too naturally. Here we have another token. For the +nonce his interlocutor may be duped; but, being no fool, he will on +the morrow have seen through the subterfuge. Then will our friend +become compromised more and more! He will come of his own accord when +he is not even called, he will use all kinds of impudent words, +remarks, allegories, the meaning of which will be clear to everybody; +he will even go so far as to come and ask why he has not been arrested +as yet--hah! hah! And such a line of conduct may occur to a person of +keen intellect, yes, even to a man of psychologic mind! Nature, my +friend, is the most transparent of mirrors. To contemplate her is +sufficient. But why do you grow pale, Rodion Romanovitch? Perhaps you +are too hot; shall I open the window?" + +"By no means, I beg!" cried Raskolnikoff, bursting out laughing. +"Don't heed me, pray!" Porphyrius stopped short, waited a moment, and +burst out laughing himself. Raskolnikoff, whose hilarity had suddenly +died out, rose. "Porphyrius Petrovitch," he shouted in a clear and +loud voice, although he could scarcely stand on his trembling legs, "I +can no longer doubt that you suspect me of having assassinated this +old woman as well as her sister, Elizabeth. Let me tell you that for +some time I have had enough of this. If you think you have the right +to hunt me down, to have me arrested, hunt me down, have me arrested. +But you shall not trifle with me, you shall not torture me." Suddenly +his lips quivered, his eyes gleamed, and his voice, which up to that +moment had been self-possessed, reached its highest diapason. "I will +not permit it," he yelled hoarsely, whilst striking a violent blow on +the table. "Do you hear me, Porphyrius Petrovitch, I shall not permit +this!" + +"But, goodness gracious! what on earth is wrong with you?" asked the +magistrate, disturbed to all appearances. "_Batuchka_! Rodion +Romanovitch! My good friend! What on earth is the matter with you?" + +"I will not permit it!" repeated Raskolnikoff once again. + +"_Batuchka!_ not so loud, I must request! Someone will hear you, +someone may come; and then, what shall we say? Just reflect one +moment!" murmured Porphyrius Petrovitch, whose face had approached +that of his visitor. + +"I will not permit it, I will not permit it!" mechanically pursued +Raskolnikoff, but in a minor key, so as to be heard by Porphyrius +only. + +The latter moved away to open the window. "Let us air the room! +Supposing you were to drink some water, dear friend? You have had a +slight fit!" He was on the point of going to the door to give his +orders to a servant, when he saw a water bottle in a corner. "Drink, +_batuchka_!" he murmured, whilst approaching the young man with the +bottle, "that may do you some good." + +Porphyrius's fright seemed so natural that Raskolnikoff remained +silent whilst examining him with curiosity. He refused, however, the +proffered water. + +"Rodion Romanovitch! My dear friend! If you go on in this way, you +will go mad, I am positive! Drink, pray, if only a few drops!" He +almost forced the glass of water into his hand. Raskolnikoff raised it +mechanically to his lips, when suddenly he thought better of it, and +replaced it on the table with disgust. "Yes, yes, you have had a +slight fit. One or two more, my friend, and you will have another +attack of your malady," observed the magistrate in the kindest tone of +voice, appearing greatly agitated. "Is it possible that people can +take so little care of themselves? It was the same with Dmitri +Prokofitch, who called here yesterday. I admit mine to be a caustic +temperament, that mine is a horrid disposition, but that such a +meaning could possibly be attributed to harmless remarks. He called +here yesterday, when you had gone, and in the course of dinner he +talked, talked. You had sent him, had you not? But do sit down, +_batuchka!_ do sit down, for heaven's sake!" + +"I did not indeed!--although I knew that he had called, and his object +in doing so!" replied Raskolnikoff dryly. + +"Did you really know why?" + +"I did. And what did you gather from it?" + +"I gathered from it, _batuchka!_ Rodion Romanovitch, the knowledge of +a good many of your doings--in fact, I know all! I know that you went, +towards nightfall, _to hire the lodgings._ I know that you pulled the +bell, and that a question of yours in connection with bloodstains, as +well as your manner, frightened both journeymen and dvorniks. I know +what was your mood at the time. Excitement of such a kind will drive +you out of your mind, be assured. A praiseworthy indignation is at +work within you, complaining now as to destiny, now on the subject of +police agents. You keep going here and there to induce people as far +as possible to formulate their accusations. This stupid kind of +tittle-tattle is hateful to you, and you are anxious to put a stop to +it as soon as possible. Am I right? Have I laid finger on the +sentiments which actuate you? But you are not satisfied by turning +your own brain, you want to do, or rather do, the same thing to my +good Razoumikhin. Really, it is a pity to upset so good a fellow! His +kindness exposes him more than anyone else to suffer contagion from +your own malady. But you shall know all as soon as you shall be +calmer. Pray, therefore, once again sit down, _batuchka_! Try and +recover your spirits--you seem quite unhinged." + +Raskolnikoff rose while looking at him with an air full of contempt. +"Tell me once for all," asked the latter, "tell me one way or other, +whether I am in your opinion an object for suspicion? Speak up, +Porphyrius Petrovitch, and explain yourself without any more beating +about the bush, and that forthwith!" + +"Just one word, Rodion Romanovitch. This affair will end as God knows +best; but still, by way of form, I may have to ask you a few more +questions. Hence we are certain to meet again!" And with a smile +Porphyrius stopped before the young man. "Certain!" he repeated. One +might have fancied that he wished to say something more. But he did +not do so. + +"Forgive my strange manner just now, Porphyrius Petrovitch, I was +hasty," began Raskolnikoff, who had regained all his self-possession, +and who even experienced an irresistible wish to chaff the magistrate. + +"Don't say any more, it was nothing," replied Porphyrius in almost +joyful tone. "Till we meet again!" + +"Till we meet again!" + +The young man forthwith went home. Having got there, he threw himself +on his couch, and for a quarter of an hour he tried to arrange his +ideas somewhat, inasmuch as they were very confused. + +Within a few days Raskolnikoff convinced himself that Porphyrius +Petrovitch had no real proofs. Deciding to go out, in search of fresh +air, he took up his cap and made for the door, deep in thought. For +the first time he felt in the best of health, really well. He opened +the door, and encountered Porphyrius face to face. The latter entered. + +Raskolnikoff staggered for a moment, but quickly recovered. The visit +did not dismay him. "Perhaps this is the finale, but why does he come +upon me like a cat, with muffled tread? Can he have been listening?" + +"I have been thinking for a long time of calling on you, and, as I was +passing, I thought I might drop in for a few minutes. Where are you +off to? I won't detain you long, only the time to smoke a cigarette, +if you will allow me?" + +"Be seated, Porphyrius Petrovitch, be seated," said Raskolnikoff to +his guest, assuming such an air of friendship that he himself could +have been astonished at his own affability. Thus the victim, in fear +and trembling for his life, at last does not feel the knife at his +throat. He seated himself in front of Porphyrius, and gazed upon him +without flinching. Porphyrius blinked a little, and commenced rolling +his cigarette. + +"Speak! speak!" Raskolnikoff mutely cried in his heart. "What are you +going to say?" + +"Oh, these cigarettes!" Porphyrius Petrovitch commenced at last, +"they'll be the death of me, and yet I can't give them up! I am always +coughing--a tickling in the throat is setting in, and I am +asthmatical. I have been to consult Botkine of late; he examines every +one of his patients at least half an hour at a time. After having +thumped and bumped me about for ever so long, he told me, amongst +other things: 'Tobacco is a bad thing for you--your lungs are +affected.' That's all very well, but how am I to go without my +tobacco? What am I to use as a substitute? Unfortunately, I can't +drink, hah! hah! Everything is relative, I suppose, Rodion +Romanovitch?" + +"There, he is beginning with some more of his silly palaver!" +Raskolnikoff growled to himself. His late interview with the +magistrate suddenly occurred to him, at which anger affected his mind. + +"Did you know, by-the-by, that I called on you the night before last?" +continued Porphyrius, looking about. "I was in this very room. I +happened to be coming this way, just as I am going to-day, and the +idea struck me to drop in. Your door was open--I entered, hoping to +see you in a few minutes, but went away again without leaving my name +with your servant. Do you never shut your place?" + +Raskolnikoff's face grew gloomier and gloomier. Porphyrius Petrovitch +evidently guessed what the latter was thinking about. + +"You did not expect visitors, Rodion Romanovitch?" said Porphyrius, +smiling graciously. + +"I have called just to clear things up a bit. I owe you an +explanation," he went on, smiling and gently slapping the young man on +the knee; but almost at the self-same moment his face assumed a +serious and even sad expression, to Raskolnikoff's great astonishment, +to whom the magistrate appeared in quite a different light. "At our +last interview, an unusual scene took place between us, Rodion. I +somehow feel that I did not behave very well to you. You remember, I +dare say, how we parted; we were both more or less excited. I fear we +were wanting in the most common courtesy, and yet we are both of us +gentlemen." + +"What can he be driving at now?" Raskolnikoff asked himself, looking +inquiringly at Porphyrius. + +"I have come to the conclusion that it would be much better for us to +be more candid to one another," continued the magistrate, turning his +head gently aside and looking on the ground, as if he feared to annoy +his former victim by his survey. "We must not have scenes of that kind +again. If Mikolka had not turned up on that occasion, I really do not +know how things would have ended. You are naturally, my dear Rodion, +very irritable, and I must own that I had taken that into +consideration, for, when driven in a corner, many a man lets out his +secrets. 'If,' I said to myself, 'I could only squeeze some kind of +evidence out of him, however trivial, provided it were real, tangible, +and palpable, different from all my psychological inferences!' That +was my idea. Sometimes we succeed by some such proceeding, but +unfortunately that does not happen every day, as I conclusively +discovered on the occasion in question, I had relied too much on your +character." + +"But why tell me all this now?" stammered Raskolnikoff, without in any +way understanding the object of his interlocutor's question. "Does he, +perhaps, think me really innocent?" + +"You wish to know why I tell you this? Because I look upon it as a +sacred duty to explain my line of action. Because I subjected you, as +I now fully acknowledge, to cruel torture. I do not wish, my dear +Rodion, that you should take me for an ogre. Hence, by way of +justification, I purpose explaining to you what led up to it. I think +it needless to account for the nature and origin of the reports which +circulated originally, as also why you were connected with them. There +was, however, one circumstance, a purely fortuitous one, and which +need not now be mentioned, which aroused my suspicions. From these +reports and accidental circumstances, the same conclusion became +evolved for me. I make this statement in all sincerity, for it was I +who first implicated you with the matter. I do not in any way notice +the particulars notified on the articles found at the old woman's. +That, and several others of a similar nature, are of no kind of +importance. At the same time, I was aware of the incident which had +happened at the police office. What occurred there has been told me +with the utmost accuracy by some one who had been closely connected +with it, and who, most unwittingly, had brought things to a head. Very +well, then, how, under such circumstances, could a man help becoming +biased? 'One swallow does not make a summer,' as the English proverb +says: a hundred suppositions do not constitute one single proof. +Reason speaks in that way, I admit, but let a man try to subject +prejudice to reason. An examining magistrate, after all, is only a +man--hence given to prejudice. + +"I also remembered, on the occasion in question, the article you had +published in some review. That virgin effort of yours, I assure you, I +greatly enjoyed--as an amateur, however, be it understood. It was +redolent of sincere conviction, of genuine enthusiasm. The article was +evidently written some sleepless night under feverish conditions. That +author, I said to myself, while reading it, will do better things than +that. How now, I ask you, could I avoid connecting that with what +followed upon it? Such a tendency was but a natural one. Am I saying +anything I should not? Am I at this moment committing myself to any +definite statement? I do no more than give utterance to a thought +which struck me at the time. What may I be thinking about now? +Nothing--or, at all events, what is tantamount to it. For the time +being, I have to deal with Mikolka; there are facts which implicate +him--what are facts, after all? If I tell you all this now, as I am +doing, I do so, I assure you, most emphatically, so that your mind and +conscience may absolve me from my behavior on the day of our +interview. 'Why,' you will ask, 'did you not come on that occasion and +have my place searched?' I did so, hah! hah! I went when you were ill +in bed--but, let me tell you, not officially, not in my magisterial +capacity; but go I did. We had your rooms turned topsy-turvy at our +very first suspicions, but _umsonst_! Then I said to myself: 'That man +will make me a call, he will come of his own accord, and that before +very long! If he is guilty, he will be bound to come. Other kinds of +men would not do so, but this one will.' + +"And you remember, of course, Mr. Razoumikhin's chattering? We had +purposely informed him of some of our suspicions, hoping that he might +make you uneasy, for we knew perfectly well that Razoumikhin would not +be able to contain his indignation. Zametoff, in particular, had been +struck by your boldness, and it certainly was a bold thing for a +person to exclaim all of a sudden in an open _traktir_: 'I am an +assassin!' That was really too much of a good thing. Well, I waited +for you with trusting patience, and, lo and behold, Providence sends +you! How my heart did beat when I saw you coming! Now, I ask you, +where was the need of your coming at that time at all? If you +remember, you came in laughing immoderately. That laughter gave me +food for thought, but, had I not been very prejudiced at the time, I +should have taken no notice of it. And as for Mr. Razoumikhin on that +occasion--ah! the stone, the stone, you will remember, under which the +stolen things are hidden? I fancy I can see it from here; it is +somewhere in a kitchen garden--it was a kitchen garden you mentioned +to Zametoff, was it not? And then, when your article was broached, we +fancied we discovered a latent thought beneath every word you uttered. +That was the way, Rodion Romanovitch, that my conviction grew little +by little. 'And yet,' said I to myself, 'all that may be explained in +quite a different way, and perhaps more rationally. After all, a real +proof, however slight, would be far more valuable.' But, when I heard +all about the bell-ringing, my doubts vanished; I fancied I had the +indispensable proof, and did not seem to care for further +investigation. + +"We are face to face with a weird and gloomy case--a case of a +contemporary character, if I may say so--a case possessing, in the +fullest sense of the word, the hallmark of time, and circumstances +pointing to a person and life of different surroundings. The real +culprit is a theorist, a bookworm, who, in a tentative kind of way, +has done a more than bold thing; but this boldness of his is of quite +a peculiar and one-sided stamp; it is, after a fashion, like that of a +man who hurls himself from the top of a mountain or church steeple. +The man in question has forgotten to cut off evidence, and, in order +to work out a theory, has killed two persons. He has committed a +murder, and yet has not known how to take possession of the pelf; what +he has taken he has hidden under a stone. The anguish he experienced +while hearing knocking at the door and the continued ringing of the +bell, was not enough for him; no, yielding to an irresistible desire +of experiencing the same horror, he has positively revisited the empty +place and once more pulled the bell. Let us, if you like, attribute +the whole of this to disease--to a semidelirious condition--by all +means; but there is yet another point to be considered: he has +committed a murder, and yet continues to look upon himself as a +righteous man!" + +Raskolnikoff trembled in every limb. "Then, who--who is it--that has +committed the murder?" he stammered forth, in jerky accents. + +The examining magistrate sank back in his chair as though astonished +at such a question. "Who committed the murder?" he retorted, as if he +could not believe his own ears. "Why, you--you did, Rodion +Romanovitch! You!--" he added, almost in a whisper, and in a tone of +profound conviction. + +Raskolnikoff suddenly rose, waited for a few moments, and sat down +again, without uttering a single word. All the muscles of his face +were slightly convulsed. + +"Why, I see your lips tremble just as they did the other day," +observed Porphyrius Petrovitch, with an air of interest. "You have +not, I think, thoroughly realized the object of my visit, Rodion +Romanovitch," he pursued, after a moment's silence, "hence your great +astonishment. I have called with the express intention of plain +speaking, and to reveal the truth." + +"It was not I who committed the murder," stammered the young man, +defending himself very much like a child caught in the act of doing +wrong. + +"Yes, yes, it was you, Rodion Romanovitch, it was you, and you alone," +replied the magistrate with severity. "Confess or not, as you think +best; for the time being, that is nothing to me. In either case, my +conviction is arrived at." + +"If that is so, why have you called?" asked Raskolnikoff angrily. "I +once more repeat the question I have put you: If you think me guilty, +why not issue a warrant against me?" + +"What a question! But I will answer you categorically. To begin with, +your arrest would not benefit me!" + +"It would not benefit you? How can that be? From the moment of being +convinced, you ought to----" + +"What is the use of my conviction, after all? For the time being, it +is only built on sand. And why should I have you placed _at rest?_ Of +course, I purpose having you arrested--I have called to give you a +hint to that effect--and yet I do not hesitate to tell you that I +shall gain nothing by it. Considering, therefore, the interest I feel +for you, I earnestly urge you to go and acknowledge your crime. I +called before to give the same advice. It is by far the wisest thing +you can do--for you as well as for myself, who will then wash my hands +of the affair. Now, am I candid enough?" + +Raskolnikoff considered a moment. "Listen to me, Porphyrius +Petrovitch! To use your own statement, you have against me nothing but +psychological sentiments, and yet you aspire to mathematical evidence. +Who has told you that you are absolutely right?" + +"Yes, Rodion Romanovitch, I am absolutely right. I hold a proof! And +this proof I came in possession of the other day: God has sent it me!" + +"What is it?" + +"I shall not tell you, Rodion Romanovitch. But I have no right to +procrastinate. I am going to have you arrested! Judge, therefore: +whatever you purpose doing is not of much importance to me just now; +all I say and have said has been solely done for your interest. The +best alternative is the one I suggest, you may depend on it, Rodion +Romanovitch! When I shall have had you arrested--at the expiration of +a month or two, or even three, if you like--you will remember my +words, and you will confess. You will be led to do so insensibly, +almost without being conscious of it. I am even of opinion that, after +careful consideration, you will make up your mind to make atonement. +You do not believe me at this moment, but wait and see. In truth, +Rodion Romanovitch, suffering is a grand thing. In the mouth of a +coarse man, who deprives himself of nothing, such a statement might +afford food for laughter. Never mind, however, but there lies a theory +in suffering. Mikolka is right. You won't escape, Rodion Romanovitch." + +Raskolnikoff rose and took his cap. Porphyrius Petrovitch did the +same. "Are you going for a walk? The night will be a fine one, as long +as we get no storm. That would be all the better though, as it would +clear the air." + +"Porphyrius Petrovitch," said the young man, in curt and hurried +accents, "do not run away with the idea that I have been making a +confession to-day. You are a strange man, and I have listened to you +from pure curiosity. But remember, I have confessed to nothing. Pray +do not forget that." + +"I shall not forget it, you may depend---- How he is trembling! Don't +be uneasy, my friend--I shall not forget your advice. Take a little +stroll, only do not go beyond certain limits. I must, however, at all +costs," he added with lowered voice, "ask a small favor of you; it is +a delicate one, but has an importance of its own; assuming, although I +would view such a contingency as an improbable one--assuming, during +the next forty-eight hours, the fancy were to come upon you to put an +end to your life (excuse me my foolish supposition), would you mind +leaving behind you something in the shape of a note--a line or +so--pointing to the spot where the stone is?--that would be very +considerate. Well, _au revoir_! May God send you good thoughts!" + +Porphyrius withdrew, avoiding Raskolnikoff's eye. The latter +approached the window, and impatiently waited till, according to his +calculation, the magistrate should be some distance from the house. He +then passed out himself in great haste. + +A few days later, the prophecy of Porphyrius Petrovitch was fulfilled. +Driven by the torment of uncertainty and doubt, Raskolnikoff made up +his mind to confess his crime. Hastening through the streets, and +stumbling up the narrow stairway, he presented himself at the police +office. + +With pale lips and fixed gaze, Raskolnikoff slowly advanced toward +Elia Petrovitch. Resting his head upon the table behind which the +lieutenant was seated, he wished to speak, but could only give vent to +a few unintelligible sounds. + +"You are in pain, a chair! Pray sit down! Some water!" + +Raskolnikoff allowed himself to sink on the chair that was offered +him, but he could not take his eyes off Elia Petrovitch, whose face +expressed a very unpleasant surprise. For a moment both men looked at +one another in silence. Water was brought! + +"It was I--" commenced Raskolnikoff. + +"Drink." + +With a movement of his hand the young man pushed aside the glass which +was offered him; then, in a low-toned but distinct voice he made, with +several interruptions, the following statement:-- + +"_It was I who killed, with a hatchet, the old moneylender and her +sister, Elizabeth, and robbery was my motive_." + +Elia Petrovitch called for assistance. People rushed in from various +directions. Raskolnikoff repeated his confession. + +FOOTNOTES TO _CRIME & PUNISHMENT_: + +[1]: (At the risk of shocking the reader, it has been decided that the +real permanent detective stories of the world were ill represented +without Dostoyevsky's terrible tale of what might be called +"self-detection." If to sensitive readers the story seems so real as +to be hideous, it is well to recall that Dostoyevsky in 1849 +under-went the agony of sentence to death as a revolutionist. Although +the sentence was commuted to hard labor in Siberia, and although six +years later he was freed and again took up his writing, his mind never +rose from beneath the weight of horror and hopelessness that hangs +over offenders against the Great White Czar. Dostoyevsky, sentenced as +a criminal, herded with criminals, really _became_ a criminal in +literary imagination. Add to this a minute observation, a marvelous +memory, ardent political convictions--and we can understand why the +story here, with others of his, is taken as a scientific text by +criminologists.--EDITOR.) + +[2]: 1,000 yards. + +[3]: Janitors. + +[4]: little father + +[5]: Cabbage soup. + + + +ANTON CHEKHOFF + + +_THE SAFETY MATCH_ + + +On the morning of October 6, 1885, in the office of the Inspector of +Police of the second division of S---- District, there appeared a +respectably dressed young man, who announced that his master, Marcus +Ivanovitch Klausoff, a retired officer of the Horse Guards, separated +from his wife, had been murdered. While making this announcement the +young man was white and terribly agitated. His hands trembled and his +eyes were full of terror. + +"Whom have I the honor of addressing?" asked the inspector. + +"Psyekoff, Lieutenant Klausoff's agent; agriculturist and +mechanician!" + +The inspector and his deputy, on visiting the scene of the occurrence +in company with Psyekoff, found the following: Near the wing in which +Klausoff had lived was gathered a dense crowd. The news of the murder +had sped swift as lightning through the neighborhood, and the +peasantry, thanks to the fact that the day was a holiday, had hurried +together from all the neighboring villages. There was much commotion +and talk. Here and there, pale, tear-stained faces were seen. The door +of Klausoff's bedroom was found locked. The key was inside. + +"It is quite clear that the scoundrels got in by the window!" said +Psyekoff as they examined the door. + +They went to the garden, into which the bedroom window opened. The +window looked dark and ominous. It was covered by a faded green +curtain. One corner of the curtain was slightly turned up, which made +it possible to look into the bedroom. + +"Did any of you look into the window?" asked the inspector. + +"Certainly not, your worship!" answered Ephraim, the gardener, a +little gray-haired old man, who looked like a retired sergeant. "Who's +going to look in, if all their bones are shaking?" + +"Ah, Marcus Ivanovitch, Marcus Ivanovitch!" sighed the inspector, +looking at the window, "I told you you would come to a bad end! I told +the dear man, but he wouldn't listen! Dissipation doesn't bring any +good!" + +"Thanks to Ephraim," said Psyekoff; "but for him, we would never have +guessed. He was the first to guess that something was wrong. He comes +to me this morning, and says: 'Why is the master so long getting up? +He hasn't left his bedroom for a whole week!' The moment he said that, +it was just as if some one had hit me with an ax. The thought flashed +through my mind, 'We haven't had a sight of him since last Saturday, +and to-day is Sunday'! Seven whole days--not a doubt of it!" + +"Ay, poor fellow!" again sighed the inspector. "He was a clever +fellow, finely educated, and kind-hearted at that! And in society, +nobody could touch him! But he was a waster, God rest his soul! I was +prepared for anything since he refused to live with Olga Petrovna. +Poor thing, a good wife, but a sharp tongue! Stephen!" the inspector +called to one of his deputies, "go over to my house this minute, and +send Andrew to the captain to lodge an information with him! Tell him +that Marcus Ivanovitch has been murdered. And run over to the orderly; +why should he sit there, kicking his heels? Let him come here! And go +as fast as you can to the examining magistrate, Nicholas +Yermolaïyevitch. Tell him to come over here! Wait; I'll write him a +note!" + +The inspector posted sentinels around the wing, wrote a letter to the +examining magistrate, and then went over to the director's for a glass +of tea. Ten minutes later he was sitting on a stool, carefully +nibbling a lump of sugar, and swallowing the scalding tea. + +"There you are!" he was saying to Psyekoff; "there you are! A noble by +birth! a rich man--a favorite of the gods, you may say, as Pushkin has +it, and what did he come to? He drank and dissipated and--there you +are--he's murdered." + +After a couple of hours the examining magistrate drove up. Nicholas +Yermolaïyevitch Chubikoff--for that was the magistrate's name--was a +tall, fleshy old man of sixty, who had been wrestling with the duties +of his office for a quarter of a century. Everybody in the district +knew him as an honest man, wise, energetic, and in love with his work. +He was accompanied to the scene of the murder by his inveterate +companion, fellow worker, and secretary, Dukovski, a tall young fellow +of twenty-six. + +"Is it possible, gentlemen?" cried Chubikoff, entering Psyekoff's +room, and quickly shaking hands with everyone. "Is it possible? Marcus +Ivanovitch? Murdered? No! It is impossible! Im-poss-i-ble!" + +"Go in there!" sighed the inspector. + +"Lord, have mercy on us! Only last Friday I saw him at the fair in +Farabankoff. I had a drink of vodka with him, save the mark!" + +"Go in there!" again sighed the inspector. + +They sighed, uttered exclamations of horror, drank a glass of tea +each, and went to the wing. + +"Get back!" the orderly cried to the peasants. + +Going to the wing, the examining magistrate began his work by +examining the bedroom door. The door proved to be of pine, painted +yellow, and was uninjured. Nothing was found which could serve as a +clew. They had to break in the door. + +"Everyone not here on business is requested to keep away!" said the +magistrate, when, after much hammering and shaking, the door yielded +to ax and chisel. "I request this, in the interest of the +investigation. Orderly, don't let anyone in!" + +Chubikoff, his assistant, and the inspector opened the door, and +hesitatingly, one after the other, entered the room. Their eyes met +the following sight: Beside the single window stood the big wooden bed +with a huge feather mattress. On the crumpled feather bed lay a +tumbled, crumpled quilt. The pillow, in a cotton pillow-case, also +much crumpled, was dragging on the floor. On the table beside the bed +lay a silver watch and a silver twenty-kopeck piece. Beside them lay +some sulphur matches. Beside the bed, the little table, and the single +chair, there was no furniture in the room. Looking under the bed, the +inspector saw a couple of dozen empty bottles, an old straw hat, and a +quart of vodka. Under the table lay one top boot, covered with dust. +Casting a glance around the room, the magistrate frowned and grew red +in the face. + +"Scoundrels!" he muttered, clenching his fists. + +"And where is Marcus Ivanovitch?" asked Dukovski in a low voice. + +"Mind your own business!" Chubikoff answered roughly. "Be good enough +to examine the floor! This is not the first case of the kind I have +had to deal with! Eugraph Kuzmitch," he said, turning to the +inspector, and lowering his voice, "in 1870 I had another case like +this. But you must remember it--the murder of the merchant +Portraitoff. It was just the same there. The scoundrels murdered him, +and dragged the corpse out through the window----" + +Chubikoff went up to the window, pulled the curtain to one side, and +carefully pushed the window. The window opened. + +"It opens, you see! It wasn't fastened. Hm! There are tracks under the +window. Look! There is the track of a knee! Somebody got in there. We +must examine the window thoroughly." + +"There is nothing special to be found on the floor," said +Dukovski. +"No stains or scratches. The only thing I found was a struck safety +match. Here it is! So far as I remember, Marcus Ivanovitch did not +smoke. And he always used sulphur matches, never safety matches. +Perhaps this safety match may serve as a clew!" + +"Oh, do shut up!" cried the magistrate deprecatingly. "You go on about +your match! I can't abide these dreamers! Instead of chasing matches, +you had better examine the bed!" + +After a thorough examination of the bed, Dukovski reported: + +"There are no spots, either of blood or of anything else. There are +likewise no new torn places. On the pillow there are signs of teeth. +The quilt is stained with something which looks like beer and smells +like beer. The general aspect of the bed gives grounds for thinking +that a struggle took place on it." + +"I know there was a struggle, without your telling me! You are not +being asked about a struggle. Instead of looking for struggles, you +had better----" + +"Here is one top boot, but there is no sign of the other." + +"Well, and what of that?" + +"It proves that they strangled him, while he was taking his boots off. +He hadn't time to take the second boot off when----" + +"There you go!--and how do you know they strangled him?" + +"There are marks of teeth on the pillow. The pillow itself is badly +crumpled, and thrown a couple of yards from the bed." + +"Listen to his foolishness! Better come into the garden. You would be +better employed examining the garden than digging around here. I can +do that without you!" + +When they reached the garden they began by examining the grass. The +grass under the window was crushed and trampled. A bushy burdock +growing under the window close to the wall was also trampled. Dukovski +succeeded in finding on it some broken twigs and a piece of cotton +wool. On the upper branches were found some fine hairs of dark blue +wool. + +"What color was his last suit?" Dukovski asked Psyekoff. + +"Yellow crash." + +"Excellent! You see they wore blue!" + +A few twigs of the burdock were cut off, and carefully wrapped in +paper by the investigators. At this point Police Captain Artsuybasheff +Svistakovski and Dr. Tyutyeff arrived. The captain bade them "Good +day!" and immediately began to satisfy his curiosity. The doctor, a +tall, very lean man, with dull eyes, a long nose, and a pointed chin, +without greeting anyone or asking about anything, sat down on a log, +sighed, and began: + +"The Servians are at war again! What in heaven's name can they want +now? Austria, it's all your doing!" + +The examination of the window from the outside did not supply any +conclusive data. The examination of the grass and the bushes nearest +to the window yielded a series of useful clews. For example, Dukovski +succeeded in discovering a long, dark streak, made up of spots, on the +grass, which led some distance into the center of the garden. The +streak ended under one of the lilac bushes in a dark brown stain. +Under this same lilac bush was found a top boot, which turned out to +be the fellow of the boot already found in the bedroom. + +"That is a blood stain made some time ago," said Dukovski, examining +the spot. + +At the word "blood" the doctor rose, and going over lazily, looked at +the spot. + +"Yes, it is blood!" he muttered. + +"That shows he wasn't strangled, if there was blood," said Chubikoff, +looking sarcastically at Dukovski. + +"They strangled him in the bedroom; and here, fearing he might come +round again, they struck him a blow with some sharp-pointed +instrument. The stain under the bush proves that he lay there a +considerable time, while they were looking about for some way of +carrying him out of the garden. + +"Well, and how about the boot?" + +"The boot confirms completely my idea that they murdered him while he +was taking his boots off before going to bed. He had already taken off +one boot, and the other, this one here, he had only had time to take +half off. The half-off boot came off of itself, while the body was +dragged over, and fell----" + +"There's a lively imagination for you!" laughed Chubikoff. "He goes on +and on like that! When will you learn enough to drop your deductions? +Instead of arguing and deducing, it would be much better if you took +some of the blood-stained grass for analysis!" + +When they had finished their examination, and drawn a plan of the +locality, the investigators went to the director's office to write +their report and have breakfast. While they were breakfasting they +went on talking: + +"The watch, the money, and so on--all untouched--" Chubikoff began, +leading off the talk, "show as clearly as that two and two are four +that the murder was not committed for the purpose of robbery." + +"The murder was committed by an educated man!" insisted Dukovski. + +"What evidence have you of that?" + +"The safety match proves that to me, for the peasants hereabouts are +not yet acquainted with safety matches. Only the landowners use them, +and by no means all of them. And it is evident that there was not one +murderer, but at least three. Two held him, while one killed him. +Klausoff was strong, and the murderers must have known it!" + +"What good would his strength be, supposing he was asleep?" + +"The murderers came on him while he was taking off his boots. If he +was taking off his boots, that proves that he wasn't asleep!" + +"Stop inventing your deductions! Better eat!" + +"In my opinion, your worship," said the gardener Ephraim, setting the +samovar on the table, "it was nobody but Nicholas who did this dirty +trick!" + +"Quite possible," said Psyekoff. + +"And who is Nicholas?" + +"The master's valet, your worship," answered Ephraim. "Who else could +it be? He's a rascal, your worship! He's a drunkard and a blackguard, +the like of which Heaven should not permit! He always took the master +his vodka and put the master to bed. Who else could it be? And I also +venture to point out to your worship, he once boasted at the public +house that he would kill the master! It happened on account of +Aquilina, the woman, you know. He was making up to a soldier's widow. +She pleased the master; the master made friends with her himself, and +Nicholas--naturally, he was mad! He is rolling about drunk in the +kitchen now. He is crying, and telling lies, saying he is sorry for +the master----" + +The examining magistrate ordered Nicholas to be brought. Nicholas, a +lanky young fellow, with a long, freckled nose, narrow-chested, and +wearing an old jacket of his master's, entered Psyekoff's room, and +bowed low before the magistrate. His face was sleepy and tear-stained. +He was tipsy and could hardly keep his feet. + +"Where is your master?" Chubikoff asked him. + +"Murdered! your worship!" + +As he said this, Nicholas blinked and began to weep. + +"We know he was murdered. But where is he now? Where is his body?" + +"They say he was dragged out of the window and buried in the garden!" + +"Hum! The results of the investigation are known in the kitchen +already!--That's bad! Where were you, my good fellow, the night the +master was murdered? Saturday night, that is." + +Nicholas raised his head, stretched his neck, and began to think. + +"I don't know, your worship," he said. "I was drunk and don't +remember." + +"An alibi!" whispered Dukovski, smiling, and rubbing his hands. + +"So-o! And why is there blood under the master's window?" + +Nicholas jerked his head up and considered. + +"Hurry up!" said the Captain of Police. + +"Right away! That blood doesn't amount to anything, your worship! I +was cutting a chicken's throat. I was doing it quite simply, in the +usual way, when all of a sudden it broke away and started to run. That +is where the blood came from." + +Ephraim declared that Nicholas did kill a chicken every evening, and +always in some new place, but that nobody ever heard of a half-killed +chicken running about the garden, though of course it wasn't +impossible. + +"An alibi," sneered Dukovski; "and what an asinine alibi!" + +"Did you know Aquilina?" + +"Yes, your worship, I know her." + +"And the master cut you out with her?" + +"Not at all. _He_ cut me out--Mr. Psyekoff there, Ivan Mikhailovitch; +and the master cut Ivan Mikhailovitch out. That is how it was." + +Psyekoff grew confused and began to scratch his left eye. Dukovski +looked at him attentively, noted his confusion, and started. He +noticed that the director had dark blue trousers, which he had not +observed before. The trousers reminded him of the dark blue threads +found on the burdock. Chubikoff in his turn glanced suspiciously at +Psyekoff. + +"Go!" he said to Nicholas. "And now permit me to put a question to +you, Mr. Psyekoff. Of course you were here last Saturday evening?" + +"Yes! I had supper with Marcus Ivanovitch about ten o'clock." + +"And afterwards?" + +"Afterwards--afterwards--Really, I do not remember," stammered +Psyekoff. "I had a good deal to drink at supper. I don't remember when +or where I went to sleep. Why are you all looking at me like that, as +if I was the murderer?" + +"Where were you when you woke up?" + +"I was in the servants' kitchen, lying behind the stove! They can all +confirm it. How I got behind the stove I don't know----" + +"Do not get agitated. Did you know Aquilina?" + +"There's nothing extraordinary about that----" + +"She first liked you and then preferred Klausoff?" + +"Yes. Ephraim, give us some more mushrooms! Do you want some more tea, +Eugraph Kuzmitch?" + +A heavy, oppressive silence began and lasted fully five minutes. +Dukoyski silently kept his piercing eyes fixed on Psyekoff's pale +face. The silence was finally broken by the examining magistrate: + +"We must go to the house and talk with Maria Ivanovna, the sister of +the deceased. Perhaps she may be able to supply some clews." + +Chubikoff and his assistant expressed their thanks for the breakfast, +and went toward the house. They found Klausoff's sister, Maria +Ivanovna, an old maid of forty-five, at prayer before the big case of +family icons. When she saw the portfolios in her guests' hands, and +their official caps, she grew pale. + +"Let me begin by apologizing for disturbing, so to speak, your +devotions," began the gallant Chubikoff, bowing and scraping. "We have +come to you with a request. Of course, you have heard already. There +is a suspicion that your dear brother, in some way or other, has been +murdered. The will of God, you know. No one can escape death, neither +czar nor plowman. Could you not help us with some clew, some +explanation----?" + +"Oh, don't ask me!" said Maria Ivanovna, growing still paler, and +covering her face with her hands. "I can tell you nothing. Nothing! I +beg you! I know nothing--What can I do? Oh, no! no!--not a word about +my brother! If I die, I won't say anything!" + +Maria Ivanovna began to weep, and left the room. The investigators +looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders, and beat a retreat. + +"Confound the woman!" scolded Dukovski, going out of the house. "It is +clear she knows something, and is concealing it! And the chambermaid +has a queer expression too! Wait, you wretches! We'll ferret it all +out!" + +In the evening Chubikoff and his deputy, lit on their road by the pale +moon, wended their way homeward. They sat in their carriage and +thought over the results of the day. Both were tired and kept silent. +Chubikoff was always unwilling to talk while traveling, and the +talkative Dukovski remained silent, to fall in with the elder man's +humor. But at the end of their journey the deputy could hold in no +longer, and said: + +"It is quite certain," he said, "that Nicholas had something to do +with the matter. _Non dubitandum est!_ You can see by his face what +sort of a case he is! His alibi betrays him, body and bones. But it is +also certain that he did not set the thing going. He was only the +stupid hired tool. You agree? And the humble Psyekoff was not without +some slight share in the matter. His dark blue breeches, his +agitation, his lying behind the stove in terror after the murder, his +alibi and--Aquilina----" + +"'Grind away, Emilian; it's your week!' So, according to you, whoever +knew Aquilina is the murderer! Hot-head! You ought to be sucking a +bottle, and not handling affairs! You were one of Aquilina's admirers +yourself--does it follow that you are implicated too?" + +"Aquilina was cook in your house for a month. I am saying nothing +about that! The night before that Saturday I was playing cards with +you, and saw you, otherwise I should be after you too! It isn't the +woman that matters, old chap! It is the mean, nasty, low spirit of +jealousy that matters. The retiring young man was not pleased when +they got the better of him, you see! His vanity, don't you see? He +wanted revenge. Then, those thick lips of his suggest passion. So +there you have it: wounded self-love and passion. That is quite enough +motive for a murder. We have two of them in our hands; but who is the +third? Nicholas and Psyekoff held him, but who smothered him? Psyekoff +is shy, timid, an all-round coward. And Nicholas would not know how to +smother with a pillow. His sort use an ax or a club. Some third person +did the smothering; but who was it?" + +Dukovski crammed his hat down over his eyes and pondered. He remained +silent until the carriage rolled up to the magistrate's door. + +"Eureka!" he said, entering the little house and throwing off his +overcoat. "Eureka, Nicholas Yermolaïyevitch! The only thing I can't +understand is, how it did not occur to me sooner! Do you know who the +third person was?" + +"Oh, for goodness sake, shut up! There is supper! Sit down to your +evening meal!" + +The magistrate and Dukovski sat down to supper. Dukovski poured +himself out a glass of vodka, rose, drew himself up, and said, with +sparkling eyes: + +"Well, learn that the third person, who acted in concert with that +scoundrel Psyekoff, and did the smothering, was a woman! Yes-s! I +mean--the murdered man's sister, Maria Ivanovna!" + +Chubikoff choked over his vodka, and fixed his eyes on Dukovski. + +"You aren't--what's-its-name? Your head isn't what-do-you-call-it? You +haven't a pain in it?" + +"I am perfectly well! Very well, let us say that I am crazy; but how +do you explain her confusion when we appeared? How do you explain her +unwillingness to give us any information? Let us admit that these are +trifles. Very well! All right! But remember their relations. She +detested her brother. She never forgave him for living apart from his +wife. She is of the Old Faith, while in her eyes he is a godless +profligate. There is where the germ of her hate was hatched. They say +he succeeded in making her believe that he was an angel of Satan. He +even went in for spiritualism in her presence!" + +"Well, what of that?" + +"You don't understand? She, as a member of the Old Faith, murdered him +through fanaticism. It was not only that she was putting to death a +weed, a profligate--she was freeing the world of an antichrist!--and +there, in her opinion, was her service, her religious achievement! Oh, +you don't know those old maids of the Old Faith. Read Dostoyevsky! And +what does Lyeskoff say about them, or Petcherski? It was she, and +nobody else, even if you cut me open. She smothered him! O treacherous +woman! wasn't that the reason why she was kneeling before the icons, +when we came in, just to take our attention away? 'Let me kneel down +and pray,' she said to herself, 'and they will think I am tranquil and +did not expect them!' That is the plan of all novices in crime, +Nicholas Yermolaïyevitch, old pal! My dear old man, won't you intrust +this business to me? Let me personally bring it through! Friend, I +began it and I will finish it!" + +Chubikoff shook his head and frowned. + +"We know how to manage difficult matters ourselves," he said; "and +your business is not to push yourself in where you don't belong. Write +from dictation when you are dictated to; that is your job!" + +Dukovski flared up, banged the door, and disappeared. + +"Clever rascal!" muttered Chubikoff, glancing after him. "Awfully +clever! But too much of a hothead. I must buy him a cigar case at the +fair as a present." + +The next day, early in the morning, a young man with a big head and a +pursed-up mouth, who came from Klausoff's place, was introduced to the +magistrate's office. He said he was the shepherd Daniel, and brought a +very interesting piece of information. + +"I was a bit drunk," he said. "I was with my pal till midnight. On my +way home, as I was drunk, I went into the river for a bath. I was +taking a bath, when I looked up. Two men were walking along the dam, +carrying something black. 'Shoo!' I cried at them. They got scared, +and went off like the wind toward Makareff's cabbage garden. Strike me +dead, if they weren't carrying away the master!" + +That same day, toward evening, Psyekoff and Nicholas were arrested and +brought under guard to the district town. In the town they were +committed to the cells of the prison. + + +II + +A fortnight passed. + +It was morning. The magistrate Nicholas Yermolaïyevitch was sitting in +his office before a green table, turning over the papers of the +"Klausoff case"; Dukovski was striding restlessly up and down, like a +wolf in a cage. + +"You are convinced of the guilt of Nicholas and Psyekoff," he said, +nervously plucking at his young beard. "Why will you not believe in +the guilt of Maria Ivanovna? Are there not proofs enough for you?" + +"I don't say I am not convinced. I am convinced, but somehow I don't +believe it! There are no real proofs, but just a kind of +philosophizing--fanaticism, this and that----" + +"You can't do without an ax and bloodstained sheets. Those jurists! +Very well, I'll prove it to you! You will stop sneering at the +psychological side of the affair! To Siberia with your Maria Ivanovna! +I will prove it! If philosophy is not enough for you, I have something +substantial for you. It will show you how correct my philosophy is. +Just give me permission----" + +"What are you going on about?" + +"About the safety match! Have you forgotten it? I haven't! I am going +to find out who struck it in the murdered man's room. It was not +Nicholas that struck it; it was not Psyekoff, for neither of them had +any matches when they were examined; it was the third person, Maria +Ivanovna. I will prove it to you. Just give me permission to go +through the district to find out." + +"That's enough! Sit down. Let us go on with the examination." + +Dukovski sat down at a little table, and plunged his long nose in a +bundle of papers. + +"Bring in Nicholas Tetekhoff!" cried the examining magistrate. + +They brought Nicholas in. Nicholas was pale and thin as a rail. He was +trembling. + +"Tetekhoff!" began Chubikoff. "In 1879 you were tried in the Court of +the First Division, convicted of theft, and sentenced to imprisonment. +In 1882 you were tried a second time for theft, and were again +imprisoned. We know all----" + +Astonishment was depicted on Nicholas's face. The examining +magistrate's omniscience startled him. But soon his expression of +astonishment changed to extreme indignation. He began to cry and +requested permission to go and wash his face and quiet down. They led +him away. + +"Bring in Psyekoff!" ordered the examining magistrate. + +They brought in Psyekoff. The young man had changed greatly during the +last few days. He had grown thin and pale, and looked haggard. His +eyes had an apathetic expression. + +"Sit down, Psyekoff," said Chubikoff. "I hope that to-day you are +going to be reasonable, and will not tell lies, as you did before. All +these days you have denied that you had anything to do with the murder +of Klausoff, in spite of all the proofs that testify against you. That +is foolish. Confession will lighten your guilt. This is the last time +I am going to talk to you. If you do not confess to-day, to-morrow it +will be too late. Come, tell me all----" + +"I know nothing about it. I know nothing about your proofs," answered +Psyekoff, almost inaudibly. + +"It's no use! Well, let me relate to you how the matter took place. On +Saturday evening you were sitting in Klausoff's sleeping room, and +drinking vodka and beer with him." (Dukovski fixed his eyes on +Psyekoff's face, and kept them there all through the examination.) +"Nicholas was waiting on you. At one o'clock, Marcus Ivanovitch +announced his intention of going to bed. He always went to bed at one +o'clock. When he was taking off his boots, and was giving you +directions about details of management, you and Nicholas, at a given +signal, seized your drunken master and threw him on the bed. One of +you sat on his legs, the other on his head. Then a third person came +in from the passage--a woman in a black dress, whom you know well, and +who had previously arranged with you as to her share in your criminal +deed. She seized a pillow and began to smother him. While the struggle +was going on the candle went out. The woman took a box of safety +matches from her pocket, and lit the candle. Was it not so? I see by +your face that I am speaking the truth. But to go on. After you had +smothered him, and saw that he had ceased breathing, you and Nicholas +pulled him out through the window and laid him down near the burdock. +Fearing that he might come round again, you struck him with something +sharp. Then you carried him away, and laid him down under a lilac bush +for a short time. After resting awhile and considering, you carried +him across the fence. Then you entered the road. After that comes the +dam. Near the dam, a peasant frightened you. Well, what is the matter +with you?" + +"I am suffocating!" replied Psyekoff. "Very well--have it so. Only let +me go out, please!" + +They led Psyekoff away. + +"At last! He has confessed!" cried Chubikoff, stretching himself +luxuriously. "He has betrayed himself! And didn't I get round him +cleverly! Regularly caught him napping----" + +"And he doesn't deny the woman in the black dress!" exulted Dukovski. +"But all the same, that safety match is tormenting me frightfully. I +can't stand it any longer. Good-by! I am off!" + +Dukovski put on his cap and drove off. Chubikoff began to examine +Aquilina. Aquilina declared that she knew nothing whatever about it. + +At six that evening Dukovski returned. He was more agitated than he +had ever been before. His hands trembled so that he could not even +unbutton his greatcoat. His cheeks glowed. It was clear that he did +not come empty handed. + +"_Veni, vidi, vici!_" he cried, rushing into Chubikoff's room, and +falling into an armchair. "I swear to you on my honor, I begin to +believe that I am a genius! Listen, devil take us all! It is funny, +and it is sad. We have caught three already--isn't that so? Well, I +have found the fourth, and a woman at that. You will never believe who +it is! But listen. I went to Klausoff's village, and began to make a +spiral round it. I visited all the little shops, public houses, dram +shops on the road, everywhere asking for safety matches. Everywhere +they said they hadn't any. I made a wide round. Twenty times I lost +faith, and twenty times I got it back again. I knocked about the whole +day, and only an hour ago I got on the track. Three versts from here. +They gave me a packet of ten boxes. One box was missing. Immediately: +'Who bought the other box?' 'Such-a-one! She was pleased with them!' +Old man! Nicholas Yermolaïyevitch! See what a fellow who was expelled +from the seminary and who has read Gaboriau can do! From to-day on I +begin to respect myself! Oof! Well, come!" + +"Come where?" + +"To her, to number four! We must hurry, otherwise--otherwise I'll +burst with impatience! Do you know who she is? You'll never guess! +Olga Petrovna, Marcus Ivanovitch's wife--his own wife--that's who it +is! She is the person who bought the matchbox!" + +"You--you--you are out of your mind!" + +"It's quite simple! To begin with, she smokes. Secondly, she was head +and ears in love with Klausoff, even after he refused to live in the +same house with her, because she was always scolding his head off. +Why, they say she used to beat him because she loved him so much. And +then he positively refused to stay in the same house. Love turned +sour. 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.' But come along! Quick, +or it will be dark. Come!" + +"I am not yet sufficiently crazy to go and disturb a respectable +honorable woman in the middle of the night for a crazy boy!" + +"Respectable, honorable! Do honorable women murder their husbands? +After that you are a rag, and not an examining magistrate! I never +ventured to call you names before, but now you compel me to. Rag! +Dressing-gown!--Dear Nicholas Yermolaïyevitch, do come, I beg of +you----!" + +The magistrate made a deprecating motion with his hand. + +"I beg of you! I ask, not for myself, but in the interests of justice. +I beg you! I implore you! Do what I ask you to, just this once!" + +Dukovski went down on his knees. + +"Nicholas Yermolaïyevitch! Be kind! Call me a blackguard, a +ne'er-do-weel, if I am mistaken about this woman. You see what an +affair it is. What a case it is. A romance! A woman murdering her own +husband for love! The fame of it will go all over Russia. They will +make you investigator in all important cases. Understand, O foolish +old man!" + +The magistrate frowned, and undecidedly stretched his hand toward his +cap. + +"Oh, the devil take you!" he said. "Let us go!" + +It was dark when the magistrate's carriage rolled up to the porch of +the old country house in which Olga Petrovna had taken refuge with her +brother. + +"What pigs we are," said Chubikoff, taking hold of the bell, "to +disturb a poor woman like this!" + +"It's all right! It's all right! Don't get frightened! We can say that +we have broken a spring." + +Chubikoff and Dukovski were met at the threshold by a tall buxom woman +of three and twenty, with pitch-black brows and juicy red lips. It was +Olga Petrovna herself, apparently not the least distressed by the +recent tragedy. + +"Oh, what a pleasant surprise!" she said, smiling broadly. "You are +just in time for supper. Kuzma Petrovitch is not at home. He is +visiting the priest, and has stayed late. But we'll get on without +him! Be seated. You have come from the examination?" + +"Yes. We broke a spring, you know," began Chubikoff, entering the +sitting room and sinking into an armchair. + +"Take her unawares--at once!" whispered Dukovski; "take her unawares!" + +"A spring--hum--yes--so we came in." + +"Take her unawares, I tell you! She will guess what the matter is if +you drag things out like that." + +"Well, do it yourself as you want. But let me get out of it," muttered +Chubikoff, rising and going to the window. + +"Yes, a spring," began Dukovski, going close to Olga Petrovna and +wrinkling his long nose. "We did not drive over here--to take supper +with you or--to see Kuzma Petrovitch. We came here to ask you, +respected madam, where Marcus Ivanovitch is, whom you murdered!" + +"What? Marcus Ivanovitch murdered?" stammered Olga Petrovna, and her +broad face suddenly and instantaneously flushed bright scarlet. "I +don't--understand!" + +"I ask you in the name of the law! Where is Klausoff? We know all!" + +"Who told you?" Olga Petrovna asked in a low voice, unable to endure +Dukovski's glance. + +"Be so good as to show us where he is!" + +"But how did you find out? Who told you?" + +"We know all! I demand it in the name of the law!" + +The examining magistrate, emboldened by her confusion, came forward +and said: + +"Show us, and we will go away. Otherwise, we----" + +"What do you want with him?" + +"Madam, what is the use of these questions? We ask you to show us! You +tremble, you are agitated. Yes, he has been murdered, and, if you must +have it, murdered by you! Your accomplices have betrayed you!" + +Olga Petrovna grew pale. + +"Come!" she said in a low voice, wringing her hands. "I have +him--hid--in the bath house! Only for heaven's sake, do not tell Kuzma +Petrovitch. I beg and implore you! He will never forgive me!" + +Olga Petrovna took down a big key from the wall, and led her guests +through the kitchen and passage to the courtyard. The courtyard was in +darkness. Fine rain was falling. Olga Petrovna walked in advance of +them. Chubikoff and Dukovski strode behind her through the long grass, +as the odor of wild hemp and dishwater splashing under their feet +reached them. The courtyard was wide. Soon the dishwater ceased, and +they felt freshly broken earth under their feet. In the darkness +appeared the shadowy outlines of trees, and among the trees a little +house with a crooked chimney. + +"That is the bath house," said Olga Petrovna. "But I implore you, do +not tell my brother! If you do, I'll never hear the end of it!" + +Going up to the bath house, Chubikoff and Dukovski saw a huge padlock +on the door. + +"Get your candle and matches ready," whispered the examining +magistrate to his deputy. + +Olga Petrovna unfastened the padlock, and let her guests into the bath +house. Dukovski struck a match and lit up the anteroom. In the middle +of the anteroom stood a table. On the table, beside a sturdy little +samovar, stood a soup tureen with cold cabbage soup and a plate with +the remnants of some sauce. + +"Forward!" + +They went into the next room, where the bath was. There was a table +there also. On the table was a dish with some ham, a bottle of vodka, +plates, knives, forks. + +"But where is it--where is the murdered man?" asked the examining +magistrate. + +"On the top tier," whispered Olga Petrovna, still pale and trembling. + +Dukovski took the candle in his hand and climbed up to the top tier of +the sweating frame. There he saw a long human body lying motionless on +a large feather bed. A slight snore came from the body. + +"You are making fun of us, devil take it!" cried Dukovski. "That is +not the murdered man! Some live fool is lying here. Here, whoever you +are, the devil take you!" + +The body drew in a quick breath and stirred. Dukovski stuck his elbow +into it. It raised a hand, stretched itself, and lifted its head. + +"Who is sneaking in here?" asked a hoarse, heavy bass. "What do you +want?" + +Dukovski raised the candle to the face of the unknown, and cried out. +In the red nose, disheveled, unkempt hair, the pitch-black mustaches, +one of which was jauntily twisted and pointed insolently toward the +ceiling, he recognized the gallant cavalryman Klausoff. + +"You--Marcus--Ivanovitch? Is it possible?" + +The examining magistrate glanced sharply up at him, and stood +spellbound. + +"Yes, it is I. That's you, Dukovski? What the devil do you want here? +And who's that other mug down there? Great snakes! It is the examining +magistrate! What fate has brought him here?" + +Klausoff rushed down and threw his arms round Chubikoff in a cordial +embrace. Olga Petrovna slipped through the door. + +"How did you come here? Let's have a drink, devil take it! +Tra-ta-ti-to-tum--let us drink! But who brought you here? How did you +find out that I was here? But it doesn't matter! Let's have a drink!" + +Klausoff lit the lamp and poured out three glasses of vodka. + +"That is--I don't understand you," said the examining magistrate, +running his hands over him. "Is this you or not you!" + +"Oh, shut up! You want to preach me a sermon? Don't trouble yourself! +Young Dukovski, empty your glass! Friends, let us bring this--What are +you looking at? Drink!" + +"All the same, I do not understand!" said the examining magistrate, +mechanically drinking off the vodka. "What are you here for?" + +"Why shouldn't I be here, if I am all right here?" + +Klausoff drained his glass and took a bite of ham. + +"I am in captivity here, as you see. In solitude, in a cavern, like a +ghost or a bogey. Drink! She carried me off and locked me up, +and--well, I am living here, in the deserted bath house, like a +hermit. I am fed. Next week I think I'll try to get out. I'm tired of +it here!" + +"Incomprehensible!" said Dukovski. + +"What is incomprehensible about it?" + +"Incomprehensible! For Heaven's sake, how did your boot get into the +garden?" + +"What boot?" + +"We found one boot in the sleeping room and the other in the garden." + +"And what do you want to know that for? It's none of your business! +Why don't you drink, devil take you? If you wakened me, then drink +with me! It is an interesting tale, brother, that of the boot! I +didn't want to go with Olga. I don't like to be bossed. She came under +the window and began to abuse me. She always was a termagant. You know +what women are like, all of them. I was a bit drunk, so I took a boot +and heaved it at her. Ha-ha-ha! Teach her not to scold another time! +But it didn't! Not a bit of it! She climbed in at the window, lit the +lamp, and began to hammer poor tipsy me. She thrashed me, dragged me +over here, and locked me in. She feeds me now--on love, vodka, and +ham! But where are you off to, Chubikoff? Where are you going?" + +The examining magistrate swore, and left the bath house. Dukovski +followed him, crestfallen. They silently took their seats in the +carriage and drove off. The road never seemed to them so long and +disagreeable as it did that time. Both remained silent. Chubikoff +trembled with rage all the way. Dukovski hid his nose in the collar of +his overcoat, as if he was afraid that the darkness and the drizzling +rain might read the shame in his face. + +When they reached home, the examining magistrate found Dr. Tyutyeff +awaiting him. The doctor was sitting at the table, and, sighing +deeply, was turning over the pages of the _Neva_. + +"Such goings-on there are in the world!" he said, meeting the +examining magistrate with a sad smile, "Austria is at it again! And +Gladstone also to some extent----" + +Chubikoff threw his cap under the table, and shook himself. + +"Devils' skeletons! Don't plague me! A thousand times I have told you +not to bother me with your politics! This is no question of politics! +And you," said Chubikoff, turning to Dukovski and shaking his fist, "I +won't forget this in a thousand years!" + +"But the safety match? How could I know?" + +"Choke yourself with your safety match! Get out of my way! Don't make +me mad, or the devil only knows what I'll do to you! Don't let me see +a trace of you!" + +Dukovski sighed, took his hat, and went out. + +"I'll go and get drunk," he decided, going through the door, and +gloomily wending his way to the public house. + + + +VSEVOLOD VLADIMIROVITCH KRESTOVSKI + + +_KNIGHTS OF INDUSTRY_ + + +I + +THE LAST WILL OF THE PRINCESS + + +Princess Anna Chechevinski for the last time looked at the home of her +girlhood, over which the St. Petersburg twilight was descending. +Defying the commands of her mother, the traditions of her family, she +had decided to elope with the man of her choice. With a last word of +farewell to her maid, she wrapped her cloak round her and disappeared +into the darkness. + +The maid's fate had been a strange one. In one of the districts beyond +the Volga lived a noble, a bachelor, luxuriously, caring only for his +own amusement. He fished, hunted, and petted the pretty little +daughter of his housekeeper, one of his serfs, whom he vaguely +intended to set free. He passed hours playing with the pretty child, +and even had an old French governess come to give her lessons. She +taught little Natasha to dance, to play the piano, to put on the airs +and graces of a little lady. So the years passed, and the old nobleman +obeyed the girl's every whim, and his serfs bowed before her and +kissed her hands. Gracefully and willfully she queened it over the +whole household. + +Then one fine day the old noble took thought and died. He had +forgotten to liberate his housekeeper and her daughter, and, as he was +a bachelor, his estate went to his next of kin, the elder Princess +Chechevinski. Between the brother and sister a cordial hatred had +existed, and they had not seen one another for years. + +Coming to take possession of the estate, Princess Chechevinski carried +things with a high hand. She ordered the housekeeper to the cow house, +and carried off the girl Natasha, as her daughter's maid, to St. +Petersburg, from the first hour letting her feel the lash of her +bitter tongue and despotic will. Natasha had tried in vain to dry her +mother's tears. With growing anger and sorrow she watched the old +house as they drove away, and looking at the old princess she said to +herself, "I hate her! I hate her! I will never forgive her!" + +Princess Anna, bidding her maid good-by, disappeared into the night. +The next morning the old princess learned of the flight. Already ill, +she fell fainting to the floor, and for a long time her condition was +critical. She regained consciousness, tried to find words to express +her anger, and again swooned away. Day and night, three women watched +over her, her son's old nurse, her maid, and Natasha, who took turns +in waiting on her. Things continued thus for forty-eight hours. +Finally, on the night of the third day she came to herself. It was +Natasha's watch. + +"And you knew? You knew she was going?" the old princess asked her +fiercely. + +The girl started, unable at first to collect her thoughts, and looked +up frightened. The dim flicker of the night light lit her pale face +and golden hair, and fell also on the grim, emaciated face of the old +princess, whose eyes glittered feverishly under her thick brows. + +"You knew my daughter was going to run away?" repeated the old woman, +fixing her keen eyes on Natasha's face, trying to raise herself from +among the lace-fringed pillows. + +"I knew," the girl answered in a half whisper, lowering her eyes in +confusion, and trying to throw off her first impression of terror. + +"Why did you not tell me before?" the old woman continued, even more +fiercely. + +Natasha had now recovered her composure, and raising her eyes with an +expression of innocent distress, she answered: + +"Princess Anna hid everything from me also, until the very last. How +dare I tell you? Would you have believed me? It was not my business, +your excellency!" + +The old princess shook her head, smiling bitterly and incredulously. + +"Snake!" she hissed fiercely, looking at the girl; and then she added +quickly: + +"Did any of the others know?" + +"No one but myself!" answered Natasha. + +"Never dare to speak of her again! Never dare!" cried the old +princess, and once more she sank back unconscious on the pillows. + +About noon the next day she again came to herself, and ordered her son +to be called. He came in quietly, and affectionately approached his +mother. + +The princess dismissed her maid, and remained alone with her son. + +"You have no longer a sister!" she cried, turning to her son, with the +nervous spasm which returned each time she spoke of her daughter. "She +is dead for us! She has disgraced us! I curse her! You, you alone are +my heir!" + +At these words the young prince pricked up his ears and bent even more +attentively toward his mother. The news of his sole heirship was so +pleasant and unexpected that he did not even think of asking how his +sister had disgraced them, and only said with a deep sigh: + +"Oh, mamma, she was always opposed to you. She never loved you!" + +"I shall make a will in your favor," continued the princess, telling +him as briefly as possible of Princess Anna's flight. "Yes, in your +favor--only on one condition: that you will never recognize your +sister. That is my last wish!" + +"Your wish is sacred to me," murmured her son, tenderly kissing her +hand. He had always been jealous and envious of his sister, and was +besides in immediate need of money. + +The princess signed her will that same day, to the no small +satisfaction of her dear son, who, in his heart, was wondering how +soon his beloved parent would pass away, so that he might get his eyes +on her long-hoarded wealth. + + +II + +THE LITHOGRAPHER'S APPRENTICE + + +Later on the same day, in a little narrow chamber of one of the huge, +dirty tenements on Vosnesenski Prospekt, sat a young man of ruddy +complexion. He was sitting at a table, bending toward the one dusty +window, and attentively examining a white twenty-five ruble note. + +The room, dusty and dark, was wretched enough. Two rickety chairs, a +torn haircloth sofa, with a greasy pillow, and the bare table at the +window, were its entire furniture. Several scattered lithographs, two +or three engravings, two slabs of lithographer's stone on the table, +and engraver's tools sufficiently showed the occupation of the young +man. He was florid, with red hair; of Polish descent, and his name was +Kasimir Bodlevski. On the wall, over the sofa, between the overcoat +and the cloak hanging on the wall, was a pencil drawing of a young +girl. It was the portrait of Natasha. + +The young man was so absorbed in his examination of the twenty-five +ruble note that when a gentle knock sounded on the door he started +nervously, as if coming back to himself, and even grew pale, and +hurriedly crushed the banknote into his pocket. + +The knock was repeated--and this time Bodlevski's face lit up. It was +evidently a well-known and expected knock, for he sprang up and opened +the door with a welcoming smile. + +Natasha entered the room. + +"What were you dreaming about that you didn't open the door for me?" +she asked caressingly, throwing aside her hat and cloak, and taking a +seat on the tumble-down sofa. "What were you busy at?" + +"You know, yourself." + +And instead of explaining further, he drew the banknote from his +pocket and showed it to Natasha. + +"This morning the master paid me, and I am keeping the money," he +continued in a low voice, tilting back his chair. "I pay neither for +my rooms nor my shop, but sit here and study all the time." + +"It's so well worth while, isn't it?" smiled Natasha with a +contemptuous grimace. + +"You don't think it is worth while?" said the young man. "Wait! I'll +learn. We'll be rich!" + +"Yes, if we aren't sent to Siberia!" the girl laughed, "What kind of +wealth is that?" she went on. "The game is not worth the candle. I'll +be rich before you are." + +"All right, go ahead!" + +"Go ahead? I didn't come to talk nonsense, I came on business. You +help me, and, on my word of honor, we'll be in clover!" + +Bodlevski looked at his companion in astonishment. + +"I told you my Princess Anna was going to run away. She's gone! And +her mother has cut her off from the inheritance," Natasha continued +with an exultant smile. "I looked through the scrap basket, and have +brought some papers with me." + +"What sort of papers?" + +"Oh, letters and notes. They are all in Princess Anna's handwriting. +Shall I give them to you?" jested Natasha. "Have a good look at them, +examine them, learn her handwriting, so that you can imitate every +letter. That kind of thing is just in your line; you are a first-class +copyist, so this is just the job for you." + +The engraver listened, and only shrugged his shoulders. + +"No, joking aside," she continued seriously, drawing nearer Bodlevski, +"I have thought of something out of the common; you will be grateful. +I have no time to explain it all now. You will know later on. The main +thing is--learn her handwriting." + +"But what is it all for?" said Bodlevski wonderingly. + +"So that you may be able to write a few words in the handwriting of +Princess Anna; what you have to write I'll dictate to you." + +"And then?" + +"Then hurry up and get me a passport in some one else's name, and have +your own ready. But learn her handwriting. Everything depends on +that!" + +"It won't be easy. I'll hardly be able to!" muttered Bodlevski, +scratching his head. + +Natasha flared up. + +"You say you love me?" she cried energetically, with a glance of +anger. "Well, then, do it. Unless you are telling lies, you can learn +to do banknotes." + +The young man strode up and down his den, perplexed. + +"How soon do you want it?" he asked, after a minute's thought. "In a +couple of days?" + +"Yes, in about two days, not longer, or the whole thing is done for!" +the girl replied decisively. "In two days I'll come for the writing, +and be sure my passport is ready!" + +"Very well. I'll do it," consented Bodlevski. And Natasha began to +dictate to him the wording of the letter. + +As soon as she was gone the engraver got to work. All the evening and +a great part of the night he bent over the papers she had brought, +examining the handwriting, studying the letters, and practicing every +stroke with the utmost care, copying and repeating it a hundred times, +until at last he had reached the required clearness. At last he +mastered the writing. It only remained to give it the needed lightness +and naturalness. His head rang from the concentration of blood in his +temples, but he still worked on. + +Finally, when it was almost morning, the note was written, and the +name of Princess Anna was signed to it. The work was a masterpiece, +and even exceeded Bodlevski's expectations. Its lightness and +clearness were remarkable. The engraver, examining the writing of +Princess Anna, compared it with his own work, and was astonished, so +perfect was the resemblance. + +And long he admired his handiwork, with the parental pride known to +every creator, and as he looked at this note he for the first time +fully realized that he was an artist. + + +III + +THE CAVE + + +"Half the work is done!" he cried, jumping from the tumble-down sofa. +"But the passport? There's where the shoe pinches," continued the +engraver, remembering the second half of Natasha's commission. "The +passport--yes--that's where the shoe pinches!" he muttered to himself +in perplexity, resting his head on his hands and his elbows on his +knees. Thinking over all kinds of possible and impossible plans, he +suddenly remembered a fellow countryman of his, a shoemaker named +Yuzitch, who had once confessed in a moment of intoxication that "he +would rather hook a watch than patch a shoe." Bodlevski remembered +that three months before he had met Yuzitch in the street, and they +had gone together to a wine shop, where, over a bottle generously +ordered by Yuzitch, Bodlevski had lamented over the hardships of +mankind in general, and his own in particular. He had not taken +advantage of Yuzitch's offer to introduce him to "the gang," only +because he had already determined to take up one of the higher +branches of the "profession," namely, to metamorphose white paper into +banknotes. When they were parting, Yuzitch had warmly wrung his hand, +saying: + +"Whenever you want anything, dear friend, or if you just want to see +me, come to the Cave; come to Razyeziy Street and ask for the Cave, +and at the Cave anyone will show you where to find Yuzitch. If the +barkeeper makes difficulties just whisper to him that 'Secret' sent +you, and he'll show you at once." + +As this memory suddenly flashed into his mind, Bodlevski caught up his +hat and coat and hurried downstairs into the street. Making his way +through the narrow, dirty streets to the Five Points, he stopped +perplexed. Happily he noticed a sleepy watchman leaning leisurely +against a wall, and going up to him he said: + +"Tell me, where is the Cave?" + +"The what?" asked the watchman impatiently. + +"The Cave." + +"The Cave? There is no such place!" he replied, looking suspiciously +at Bodlevski. + +Bodlevski put his hand in his pocket and pulled out some small change: +"If you tell me----" + +The watchman brightened up. "Why didn't you say so before?" he asked, +grinning. "You see that house, the second from the corner? The wooden +one? That's the Cave." + +Bodlevski crossed the street in the direction indicated, and looked +for the sign over the door. To his astonishment he did not find it and +only later he knew that the name was strictly "unofficial," only used +by members of "the gang." + +Opening the door cautiously, Bodlevski made his way into the low, +dirty barroom. Behind the bar stood a tall, handsome man with an open +countenance and a bald head. Politely bowing to Bodlevski, with his +eyes rather than his head, he invited him to enter the inner room. But +Bodlevski explained that he wanted, not the inner room, but his friend +Yuzitch. + +"Yuzitch?" said the barkeeper thoughtfully. "We don't know anyone of +that name." + +"Why, he's here all the time," cried Bodlevski, in astonishment. + +"Don't know him," retorted the barkeeper imperturbably. + +"'Secret' sent me!" Bodlevski suddenly exclaimed, without lowering his +voice. + +The barkeeper looked at him sharply and suspiciously, and then asked, +with a smile: + +"Who did you say?" + +"'Secret,'" repeated Bodlevski. + +After a while the barkeeper said, "And did your--friend make an +appointment?" + +"Yes, an appointment!" Bodlevski replied, beginning to lose patience. + +"Well, take a seat in the inner room," again said the barkeeper slyly. +"Perhaps your friend will come in, or perhaps he is there already." + +Bodlevski made his way into a roomy saloon, with five windows with +faded red curtains. The ceiling was black from the smoke of hanging +lamps; little square tables were dotted about the floor; their covers +were coarse and not above reproach on the score of cleanliness. The +air was pungent with the odor of cheap tobacco and cheaper cigars. On +the walls were faded oleographs of generals and archbishops, flyblown +and stained. + +Bodlevski, little as he was used to refined surroundings, found his +gorge rising. At some of the little tables furtive, impudent, +tattered, sleek men were drinking. + +Presently Yuzitch made his appearance from a low door at the other end +of the room. The meeting of the two friends was cordial, especially on +Bodlevski's side. Presently they were seated at a table, with a flask +of wine between them, and Bodlevski began to explain what he wanted to +his friend. + +As soon as he heard what was wanted, Yuzitch took on an air of +importance, knit his brows, hemmed, and hawed. + +"I can manage it," he said finally. "Yes, we can manage it. I must see +one of my friends about it. But it's difficult. It will cost money." + +Bodlevski immediately assented. Yuzitch at once rose and went over to +a red-nosed individual in undress uniform, who was poring over the +_Police News_. + +"Friend Borisovitch," said Yuzitch, holding out his hand to him, +"something doing!" + +"Fair or foul?" asked the man with the red nose. "Hang your cheek!" +laughed Yuzitch; "if I say it, of course it's fair." After a whispered +conference, Yuzitch returned to Bodlevski and told him that it was all +right; that the passport for Natasha would be ready by the next +evening. Bodlevski paid him something in advance and went home +triumphantly. + +At eleven o'clock the next evening Bodlevski once more entered the +large room at the Cave, now all lit up and full of an animated crowd +of men and women, all with the same furtive, predatory faces. +Bodlevski felt nervous. He had no fears while turning white paper into +banknotes in the seclusion of his own workshop, but he was full of +apprehensions concerning his present guest, because several people had +to be let into the secret. + +Yuzitch presently appeared through the same low door and, coming up to +Bodlevski, explained that the passport would cost twenty rubles. +Bodlevski paid the money over in advance, and Yuzitch led him into a +back room. On the table burned a tallow candle, which hardly lit up +the faces of seven people who were grouped round it, one of them being +the red-nosed man who was reading the _Police News._ The seven men +were all from the districts of Vilna and Vitebsk, and were specialists +in the art of fabricating passports. + +The red-nosed man approached Bodlevski: "We must get acquainted with +each other," he said amiably. "I have the honor to present myself!" +and he bowed low; "Former District Secretary Pacomius Borisovitch +Prakkin. Let me request you first of all to order some vodka; my hand +shakes, you know," he added apologetically. "I don't want it so much +for myself as for my hand--to steady it." + +Bodlevski gave him some change, which the red-nosed man put in his +pocket and at once went to the sideboard for a flask of vodka which he +had already bought. "Let us give thanks! And now to business!" he +said, smacking his lips after a glass of vodka. + +A big, red-haired man, one of the group of seven, drew from his pocket +two vials. In one was a sticky black fluid; in the other, something as +clear as water. + +"We are chemists, you see," the red-nosed man explained to Bodlevski +with a grin, and then added: + +"Finch! on guard!" + +A young man, who had been lolling on a couch in the corner, rose and +took up a position outside the door. + +"Now, brothers, close up!" cried the red-nosed man, and all stood in +close order, elbow to elbow, round the table. "And now we take a +newspaper and have it handy on the table! That is in case," he +explained to Bodlevski, "any outsider happened in on us--which Heaven +prevent! We aren't up to anything at all; simply reading the political +news! You catch on?" + +"How could I help catching on?" + +"Very well. And now let us make everything as clear as in a +looking-glass. What class do you wish to make the person belong to? +The commercial or the nobility?" + +"I think the nobility would be best," said Bodlevski. + +"Certainly! At least that will give the right of free passage through +all the towns and districts of the Russian Empire. Let us see. Have we +not something that will suit?" + +And Pacomius Borisovitch, opening his portfolio, filled with all kinds +of passports, certificates, and papers of identification, began to +turn them over, but without taking any out of the portfolio. All with +the same thought--that some stranger might come in. + +"Ha! here's a new one! Where did it come from?" he cried. + +"I got it out of a new arrival," muttered the red-headed man. + +"Well done! Just what we want! And a noble's passport, too! It is +evident that Heaven is helping us. See what a blessing brings! + +"'This passport is issued by the District of Yaroslav,'" he continued +reading, "'to the college assessor's widow, Maria Solontseva, with +permission to travel,'" and so on in due form. "Did you get it here?" +he added, turning to the red-headed man. + +"Came from Moscow!" + +"Pinched?" + +"Knocked on the head!" briefly replied the red-headed man. + +"Knocked on the head?" repeated Pacomius Borisovitch. "Serious +business. Comes under sections 332 and 727 of the Penal Code." + +"Driveling again!" cried the red-headed man. "I'll teach you to talk +about the Penal Code!" and rising deliberately, he dealt Pacomius +Borisovitch a well-directed blow on the head, which sent him rolling +into the corner. Pacomius picked himself up, blinking with +indignation. + +"What is the meaning of such conduct?" he asked loftily. + +"It means," said the red-headed man, "that if you mention the Penal +Code again I'll knock your head off!" + +"Brothers, brothers!" cried Yuzitch in a good-humored tone; "we are +losing precious time! Forgive him!" he added, turning to Pacomius. +"You must forgive him!" + +"I--forgive him," answered Pacomius, but the light in his eye showed +that he was deeply offended. + +"Well," he went on, addressing Bodlevski, "will it suit you to have +the person pass as Maria Solontseva, widow of a college assessor?" + + +IV + +THE CAPTAIN OF THE GOLDEN BAND + + +Bodlevski had not time to nod his head in assent, when suddenly the +outer door was pushed quickly open and a tall man, well built and +fair-haired, stepped swiftly into the room. He wore a military uniform +and gold-rimmed eyeglasses. + +The company turned their faces toward him in startled surprise, but no +one moved. All continued to stand in close order round the table. + +"Health to you, eaglets! honorable men of Vilna! What are you up to? +What are you busy at?" cried the newcomer, swiftly approaching the +table and taking the chair that Pacomius Borisovitch had just been +knocked out of. + +"What is all this?" he continued, with one hand seizing the vial of +colorless liquid and with the other the photograph of the college +assessor's widow. "So this is hydrochloric acid for erasing ink? Very +good! And this is a photo! So we are fabricating passports? Very fine! +Business is business! Hey! Witnesses!" + +And the fair-haired man whistled sharply. From the outer door appeared +two faces, set on shoulders of formidable proportions. + +The red-headed man silently went up to the newcomer and fiercely +seized him by the collar. At the same moment the rest seized chairs or +logs or bars to defend themselves. + +The fair-haired man meanwhile, not in the least changing his +expression of cool self-confidence, quickly slipped his hands into his +pockets and pulled out a pair of small double-barreled pistols. In the +profound silence in which this scene took place they could distinctly +hear the click of the hammers as he cocked them. He raised his right +hand and pointed the muzzle at the breast of his opponent. + +The red-headed man let go his collar, and glancing contemptuously at +him, with an expression of hate and wrath, silently stepped aside. + +"How much must we pay?" he asked sullenly. + +"Oho! that's better. You should have begun by asking that!" answered +the newcomer, settling himself comfortably on his chair and toying +with his pistols. "How much do you earn?" + +"We get little enough! Just five rubles," answered the red-headed man. + +"That's too little. I need a great deal more. But you are lying, +brother! You would not stir for less than twenty rubles!" + +"Thanks for the compliment!" interrupted Pacomius Borisovitch. + +The fair-haired man nodded to him satirically. "I need a lot more," he +repeated firmly and impressively; "and if you don't give me at least +twenty-five rubles I'll denounce you this very minute to the +police--and you see I have my witnesses ready." + +"Sergei Antonitch! Mr. Kovroff! Have mercy on us! Where can we get so +much from? I tell you as in the presence of the Creator! There are ten +of us, as you see. And there are three of you. And I, Yuzitch, and +Gretcka deserve double shares!" added Pacomius Borisovitch +persuasively. + +"Gretcka deserves nothing at all for catching me by the throat," +decided Sergei Antonitch Kovroff. + +"Mr. Kovroff!" began Pacomius again. "You and I are gentlemen----" + +"What! What did you say?" Kovroff contemptuously interrupted him. "You +put yourself on my level? Ha! ha! ha! No, brother; I am still in the +Czar's service and wear my honor with my uniform! I, brother, have +never stained myself with theft or crime, Heaven be praised. But what +are you?" + +"Hm! And the Golden Band? Who is its captain?" muttered Gretcka +angrily, half to himself. + +"Who is its captain? I am--I, Lieutenant Sergei Antonitch Kovroff, of +the Chernovarski Dragoons! Do you hear? I am captain of the Golden +Band," he said proudly and haughtily, scrutinizing the company with +his confident gaze. "And you haven't yet got as far as the Golden +Band, because you are _cowards_! Chuproff," he cried to one of his +men, "go and take the mask off Finch, or the poor boy will suffocate, +and untie his arms--and give him a good crack on the head to teach him +to keep watch better." + +The "mask" that Kovroff employed on such occasions was nothing but a +piece of oilcloth cut the size of a person's face, and smeared on one +side with a thick paste. Kovroff's "boys" employed this "instrument" +with wonderful dexterity; one of them generally stole up behind the +unconscious victim and skillfully slapped the mask in his face; the +victim at once became dumb and blind, and panted from lack of breath; +at the same time, if necessary, his hands were tied behind him and he +was leisurely robbed, or held, as the case might be. + +The Golden Band was formed in the middle of the thirties, when the +first Nicholas had been about ten years on the throne. Its first +founders were three Polish nobles. It was never distinguished by the +number of its members, but everyone of them could honestly call +himself an accomplished knave, never stopping at anything that stood +in the way of a "job." The present head of the band was Lieutenant +Kovroff, who was a thorough-paced rascal, in the full sense of the +word. Daring, brave, self-confident, he also possessed a handsome +presence, good manners, and the worldly finish known as education. +Before the members of the Golden Band, and especially before Kovroff, +the small rascals stood in fear and trembling. He had his secret +agents everywhere, following every move of the crooks quietly but +pertinaciously. At the moment when some big job was being pulled off, +Kovroff suddenly appeared unexpectedly, with some of his "boys," and +demanded a contribution, threatening instantly to inform the police if +he did not get it--and the rogues, in order to "keep him quiet," had +to give him whatever share of their plunder he graciously deigned to +indicate. Acting with extraordinary skill and acumen in all his +undertakings he always managed so that not a shadow of suspicion could +fall on himself and so he got a double share of the plunder: robbing +the honest folk and the rogues at the same time. Kovroff escaped the +contempt of the crooks because he did things on such a big scale and +embarked with his Golden Band on the most desperate and dangerous +enterprises that the rest of roguedom did not even dare to consider. + +The rogues, whatever their rank, have a great respect for daring, +skill, and force--and therefore they respected Kovroff, at the same +time fearing and detesting him. + +"Who are you getting that passport for?" he asked, calmly taking the +paper from the table and slipping it into his pocket. Gretcka nodded +toward Bodlevski. + +"Aha! for you, is it? Very glad to hear it!" said Kovroff, measuring +him with his eyes. "And so, gentlemen, twenty-five rubles, or +good-by--to our happy meeting in the police court!" + +"Mr. Kovroff! Allow me to speak to you as a man of honor!" Pacomius +Borisovitch again interrupted. "We are only getting twenty rubles for +the job. The whole gang will pledge their words of honor to that. Do +you think we would lie to you and stain the honor of the gang for +twenty measly rubles?" + +"That is business. That was well said. I love a good speech, and am +always ready to respect it," remarked Sergei Antonitch approvingly. + +"Very well, then, see for yourself," went on the red-nosed Pacomius, +"see for yourself. If we give you everything, we are doing our work +and not getting a kopeck!" + +"Let him pay," answered Kovroff, turning his eyes toward Bodlevski. + +Bodlevski took out his gold watch, his only inheritance from his +father, and laid it down on the table before Kovroff, with the five +rubles that remained. + +Kovroff again measured him with his eyes and smiled. + +"You are a worthy young man!" he said. "Give me your hand! I see that +you will go far." + +And he warmly pressed the engraver's hand. "But you must know for the +future," he added in a friendly but impressive way, "that I never take +anything but money when I am dealing with these fellows. Ho, you!" he +went on, turning to the company, "some one go to uncle's and get cash +for this watch; tell him to pay conscientiously at least two thirds of +what it is worth; it is a good watch. It would cost sixty rubles to +buy. And have a bottle of champagne got ready for me at the bar, +quick! And if you don't, it will be the worse for you!" he called +after the departing Yuzitch, who came back a few minutes later, and +gave Kovroff forty rubles. Kovroff counted them, and put twenty in his +pocket, returning the remainder in silence, but with a gentlemanly +smile, to Bodlevski. + +"Fair exchange is no robbery," he said, giving Bodlevski the passport +of the college assessor's widow. "Now that old rascal Pacomius may get +to work." + +"What is there to do?" laughed Pacomius; "the passport will do very +well. So let us have a little glass, and then a little game of cards." + +"We are going to know each other better; I like your face, so I hope +we shall make friends," said Kovroff, again shaking hands with +Bodlevski. "Now let us go and have some wine. You will tell me over +our glasses what you want the passport for, and on account of your +frankness about the watch, I am well disposed to you. Lieutenant +Sergei Kovroff gives you his word of honor on that. I also can be +magnanimous," he concluded, and the new friends accompanied by the +whole gang went out to the large hall. + +There began a scene of revelry that lasted till long after midnight. +Bodlevski, feeling his side pocket to see if the passport was still +there, at last left the hall, bewildered, as though under a spell. He +felt a kind of gloomy satisfaction; he was possessed by this +satisfaction, by the uncertainty of what Natasha could have thought +out, by the question how it would all turn out, and by the conviction +that his first crime had already been committed. All these feelings +lay like lead on his heart, while in his ears resounded the wild songs +of the Cave. + + +V + +THE KEYS OF THE OLD PRINCESS + + +It was nine o'clock in the evening. Natasha lit the night lamp in the +bedroom of the old Princess Chechevinski, and went silently into the +dressing room to prepare the soothing powders which the doctors had +prescribed for her, before going to sleep. + +The old princess was still very weak. Although her periods of +unconsciousness had not returned, she was still subject to paroxysms +of hysteria. At times she sank into forgetfulness, then started +nervously, sometimes trembling in every limb. The thought of the blow +of her daughter's flight never left her for a moment. + +Natasha had just taken the place of the day nurse. It was her turn to +wait on the patient until midnight. Silence always reigned in the +house of the princess, and now that she was ill the silence was +intensified tenfold. Everyone walked on tiptoe, and spoke in whispers, +afraid even of coughing or of clinking a teaspoon on the sideboard. +The doorbells were tied in towels, and the whole street in front of +the house was thickly strewn with straw. At ten the household was +already dispersed, and preparing for sleep. Only the nurse sat +silently at the head of the old lady's bed. + +Pouring out half a glass of water, Natasha sprinkled the powder in it, +and took from the medicine chest a phial with a yellowish liquid. It +was chloral. Looking carefully round, she slowly brought the lip of +the phial down to the edge of the glass and let ten drops fall into +it. "That will be enough," she said to herself, and smiled. Her face, +as always, was coldly quiet, and not the slightest shade of any +feeling was visible on it at that moment. + +Natasha propped the old lady up with her arm. She drank the medicine +given to her and lay down again, and in a few minutes the chloral +began to have its effect. With an occasional convulsive movement of +her lower lip, she sank into a deep and heavy sleep. Natasha watched +her face following the symptoms of unconsciousness, and when she was +convinced that sleep had finally taken complete possession of her, and +that for several hours the old woman was deprived of the power to hear +anything or to wake up, she slowly moved her chair nearer the +bedstead, and without taking her quietly observant eyes from the old +woman's face, softly slipped her hand under the lower pillow. Moving +forward with the utmost care, not more than an inch or so at a time, +her hand stopped instantly, as soon as there was the slightest nervous +movement of the old woman's face, on which Natasha's eyes were fixed +immovably. But the old woman slept profoundly, and the hand again +moved forward half an inch or so under the pillow. About half an hour +passed, and the girl's eyes were still fastened on the sleeping face, +and her hand was still slipping forward under the pillow, moving +occasionally a little to one side, and feeling about for something. +Natasha's expression was in the highest degree quiet and concentrated, +but under this quietness was at the same time concealed something +else, which gave the impression that if--which Heaven forbid!--the old +woman should at that moment awake, the other free hand would instantly +seize her by the throat. + +At last the finger-ends felt something hard. "That is it!" thought +Natasha, and she held her breath. In a moment, seizing its treasure, +her hand began quietly to withdraw. Ten minutes more passed, and +Natasha finally drew out a little bag of various colored silks, in +which the old princess always kept her keys, and from which she never +parted, carrying it by day in her pocket, and by night keeping it +under her pillow. One of the keys was an ordinary one, that of her +wardrobe. The other was smaller and finely made; it was the key of her +strong box. + +About an hour later, the same keys, in the same order, and with the +same precautions, found their way back to their accustomed place under +the old lady's pillow. + +Natasha carefully wiped the glass with her handkerchief, in order that +not the least odor of chloral might remain in it, and with her usual +stillness sat out the remaining hours of her watch. + + +VI + +REVENGED + + +The old princess awoke at one o'clock the next day. The doctor was +very pleased at her long and sound sleep, the like of which the old +lady had not enjoyed since her first collapse, and which, in his view, +was certain to presage a turn for the better. + +The princess had long ago formed a habit of looking over her financial +documents, and verifying the accounts of income and expenditure. This +deep-seated habit, which had become a second nature, did not leave +her, now she was ill; at any rate, every morning, as soon as +consciousness and tranquillity returned to her, she took out the key +of her wardrobe, ordered the strong box to be brought to her, and, +sending the day nurse out of the room, gave herself up in solitude to +her beloved occupation, which had by this time become something like a +childish amusement. She drew out her bank securities, signed and +unsigned, now admiring the colored engravings on them, now sorting and +rearranging them, fingering the packets to feel their thickness, +counting them over, and several thousands in banknotes, kept in the +house in case of need, and finally carefully replaced them in the +strong box. The girl, recalled to the bedroom by the sound of the +bell, restored the strong box to its former place, and the old +princess, after this amusement, felt herself for some time quiet and +happy. + +The nurses had had the opportunity to get pretty well used to this +foible; so that the daily examination of the strong box seemed to them +a part of the order of things, something consecrated by custom. + +After taking her medicine, and having her hands and face wiped with a +towel moistened with toilet water, the princess ordered certain +prayers to be read out to her, or the chapter of the Gospel appointed +for the day, and then received her son. From the time of her +illness--that is, from the day when she signed the will making him her +sole heir--he had laid it on himself as a not altogether pleasant duty +to put in an appearance for five minutes in his mother's room, where +he showed himself a dutiful son by never mentioning his sister, but +asking tenderly after his mother's health, and finally, with a deep +sigh, gently kissing her hand, taking his departure forthwith, to sup +with some actress or to meet his companions in a wine shop. + +When he soon went away, the old lady, as was her habit, ordered her +strong box to be brought, and sent the nurse out of the room. It was a +very handsome box of ebony, with beautiful inlaid work. + +The key clicked in the lock, the spring lid sprang up, and the eyes of +the old princess became set in their sockets, full of bewilderment and +terror. Twenty-four thousand rubles in bills, which she herself with +her own hands had yesterday laid on the top of the other securities, +were no longer in the strong box. All the unsigned bank securities +were also gone. The securities in the name of her daughter Anna had +likewise disappeared. There remained only the signed securities in the +name of the old princess and her son, and a few shares of stock. In +the place of all that was gone, there lay a note directed "to Princess +Chechevinski." + +The old lady's fingers trembled so that for a long time she could not +unfold this paper. Her staring eyes wandered hither and thither as if +she had lost her senses. At last she managed somehow to unfold the +note, and began to read: + +"You cursed me, forced me to flee, and unjustly deprived me of my +inheritance. I am taking my money by force. You may inform the police, +but when you read this note, I myself and he who carried out this act +by my directions, will have left St. Petersburg forever. + +"Your daughter, + +"PRINCESS ANNA CHECHEVINSKI." + +The old lady's hands did not fall at her sides, but shifted about on +her lap as if they did not belong to her. Her wandering, senseless +eyes stopped their movements, and in them suddenly appeared an +expression of deep meaning. The old princess made a terrible, +superhuman effort to recover her presence of mind and regain command +over herself. A single faint groan broke from her breast, and her +teeth chattered. She began to look about the room for a light, but the +lamp had been extinguished; the dull gray daylight filtering through +the Venetian blinds sufficiently lit the room. Then the old lady, with +a strange, irregular movement, crushed the note together in her hand, +placed it in her mouth, and with a convulsive movement of her jaws +chewed it, trying to swallow it as quickly as possible. + +A minute passed, and the note had disappeared. The old princess closed +the strong box and rang for the day nurse. Giving her the usual order +in a quiet voice, she had still strength enough to support herself on +her elbow and watch the nurse closing the wardrobe, and then to put +the little bag with the keys back under her pillow, in its accustomed +place. Then she again ordered the nurse to go. + +When, two hours later, the doctor, coming for the third time, wished +to see his patient and entered her bedroom, he found only the old +woman's lifeless body. The blow had been too much--the daughter of the +ancient and ever honorable line of Chechevinski a fugitive and a +thief! + +Natasha had had her revenge. + + +VII + +BEYOND THE FRONTIER + + +On the morning of that same day, at nine o'clock, a well-dressed lady +presented at the Bank of Commerce a number of unsigned bank shares. At +the same time a young man, also elegantly dressed, presented a series +of signed shares, made out in the name of "Princess Anna +Chechevinski." They were properly indorsed, the signature +corresponding to that in the bank books. + +After a short interval the cashier of the bank paid over to the +well-dressed lady a hundred and fifty thousand rubles in bills, and to +the elegantly dressed young man seventy thousand rubles. The lady +signed her receipt in French, Teresa Dore; the young man signed his +name, Ivan Afonasieff, son of a merchant of Kostroma. + +A little later on the same day--namely, about two o'clock--a light +carriage carried two passengers along the Pargoloff road: a quietly +dressed young woman and a quietly dressed young man. Toward evening +these same young people were traveling in a Finnish coach by the stony +mountain road in the direction of Abo. + +Four days later the old Princess Chechevinski was buried in the Nevski +monastery. + +On his return from the monastery, young Prince Chechevinski went +straight for the strong box, which he had hitherto seen only at a +distance, and even then only rarely. He expected to find a great deal +more money in it than he found--some hundred and fifty thousand +rubles; a hundred thousand in his late mother's name, and fifty +thousand in his own. This was the personal property of the old +princess, a part of her dowry. The young prince made a wry face--the +money might last him two or three years, not more. During the lifetime +of the old princess no one had known accurately how much she +possessed, so that it never even entered the young prince's head to +ask whether she had not had more. He was so unmethodical that he never +even looked into her account book, deciding that it was uninteresting +and not worth while. + +That same day the janitor of one of the huge, dirty tenements in +Vosnesenski Prospekt brought to the police office notice of the fact +that the Pole, Kasimir Bodlevski, had left the city; and the +housekeeper of the late Princess Chechevinski informed the police that +the serf girl Natalia Pavlovna (Natasha) had disappeared without +leaving a trace, which the housekeeper now announced, as the three +days' limit had elapsed. + +At that same hour the little ship of a certain Finnish captain was +gliding down the Gulf of Bothnia. The Finn stood at the helm and his +young son handled the sails. On the deck sat a young man and a young +woman. The young woman carried, in a little bag hung round her neck, +two hundred and forty-four thousand rubles in bills, and she and her +companion carried pistols in their pockets for use in case of need. +Their passports declared that the young woman belonged to the noble +class, and was the widow of a college assessor, her name being Maria +Solontseva, while the young man was a Pole, Kasimir Bodlevski. + +The little ship was crossing the Gulf of Bothnia toward the coast of +Sweden. + + + +VIII + +BACK TO RUSSIA + + +In the year 1858, in the month of September, the "Report of the St. +Petersburg City Police" among the names of "Arrivals" included the +following: + + _Baroness van Döring, Hanoverian subject. + Ian Vladislav Karozitch, Austrian subject_. + +The persons above described might have been recognized among the +fashionable crowds which thronged the St. Petersburg terminus of +the Warsaw railway a few days before: A lady who looked not +more than thirty, though she was really thirty-eight, dressed +with simple elegance, tall and slender, admirably developed, +with beautifully clear complexion, piercing, intelligent gray eyes, +under finely outlined brows, thick chestnut hair, and a firm +mouth--almost a beauty, and with an expression of power, subtlety and +decision. "She is either a queen or a criminal," a physiognomist would +have said after observing her face. A gentleman with a red beard, whom +the lady addressed as "brother," not less elegantly dressed, and with +the same expression of subtlety and decision. They left the station in +a hired carriage, and drove to Demuth's Hotel. + +Before narrating the adventures of these distinguished persons, let us +go back twenty years, and ask what became of Natasha and Bodlevski. +When last we saw them the ship that carried them away from Russia was +gliding across the Gulf of Bothnia toward the Swedish coast. Late in +the evening it slipped into the port of Stockholm, and the worthy +Finn, winding in and out among the heavy hulls in the harbor--he was +well used to the job--landed his passengers on the wharf at a lonely +spot near a lonely inn, where the customs officers rarely showed their +noses. Bodlevski, who had beforehand got ready the very modest sum to +pay for their passage, with pitiable looks and gestures and the few +Russian phrases the good Finn could understand, assured him that he +was a very poor man, and could not even pay the sum agreed on in full. +The deficit was inconsiderable, some two rubles in all, and the good +Finn was magnanimous; he slapped his passenger on the shoulder, called +him a "good comrade," declared that he would not press a poor man, and +would always be ready to do him a service. He even found quarters for +Bodlevski and Natasha in the inn, under his protection. The Finn was +indeed a very honest smuggler. On the next morning, bidding a final +farewell to their nautical friend, our couple made their way to the +office of the British Consul, and asked for an opportunity to speak +with him. At this point Natasha played the principal rôle. + +"My husband is a Pole," said the handsome girl, taking a seat opposite +the consul in his private office, "and I myself am Russian on the +father's side, but my mother was English. My husband is involved in a +political enterprise; he was liable to transportation to Siberia, but +a chance made it possible for us to escape while the police were on +their way to arrest him. We are now political fugitives, and we +intrust our lives to the protection of English law. Be generous, +protect us, and send us to England!" + +The ruse, skillfully planned and admirably presented, was completely +successful, and two or three days later the first passenger ship under +the English flag carried the happy couple to London. + +Bodlevski destroyed his own passport and that of the college +assessor's widow, Maria Solontseva, which Natasha had needed as a +precaution while still on Russian soil. When they got to England, it +would be much handier to take new names. But with their new position +and these new names a great difficulty presented itself: they could +find no suitable outlet for their capital without arousing very +dangerous suspicions. The many-sided art of the London rogues is known +to all the world; in their club, Bodlevski, who had lost no time in +making certain pleasant and indispensable acquaintances there, soon +succeeded in getting for himself and Natasha admirably counterfeited +new passports, once more with new names and occupations. With these, +in a short time, they found their way to the Continent. They both felt +the full force of youth and a passionate desire to live and enjoy +life; in their hot heads hummed many a golden hope and plan; they +wished, to begin with, to invest their main capital somewhere, and +then to travel over Europe, and to choose a quiet corner somewhere +where they could settle down to a happy life. + +Perhaps all this might have happened if it had not been for cards and +roulette and the perpetual desire of increasing their capital--for the +worthy couple fell into the hands of a talented company, whose agents +robbed them at Frascati's in Paris, and again in Hamburg and various +health resorts, so that hardly a year had passed when Bodlevski one +fine night woke up to the fact that they no longer possessed a ruble. +But they had passed a brilliant year, their arrival in the great +cities had had its effect, and especially since Natasha had become a +person of title; in the course of the year she succeeded in purchasing +an Austrian barony at a very reasonable figure--a barony which, of +course, only existed on paper. + +When all his money was gone, there was nothing left for Bodlevski but +to enroll himself a member of the company which had so successfully +accomplished the transfer of his funds to their own pockets. Natasha's +beauty and Bodlevski's brains were such strong arguments that the +company willingly accepted them as new recruits. The two paid dear for +their knowledge, it is true, but their knowledge presently began to +bear fruit in considerable abundance. Day followed day, and year +succeeded year, a long series of horribly anxious nights, violent +feelings, mental perturbations, crafty and subtle schemes, a complete +cycle of rascalities, an entire science of covering up tracks, and the +perpetual shadow of justice, prison, and perhaps the scaffold. +Bodlevski, with his obstinate, persistent, and concentrated character, +reached the highest skill in card-sharping and the allied wiles. All +games of "chance" were for him games of skill. At thirty he looked at +least ten years older. The life he led, with its ceaseless effort, +endless mental work, perpetual anxiety, had made of him a fanatical +worshiper at the shrine of trickery. He dried up visibly in body and +grew old in mind, mastering all the difficult arts of his profession, +and only gained confidence and serenity when he had reached the +highest possible skill in every branch of his "work." From that moment +he took a new lease of life; he grew younger, he became gay and +self-confident, his health even visibly improved, and he assumed the +air and manner of a perfect gentleman. + +As for Natasha, her life and efforts in concert with Bodlevski by no +means had the same wearing effect on her as on him. Her proud, decided +nature received all these impressions quite differently. She continued +to blossom out, to grow handsomer, to enjoy life, to take hearts +captive. All the events which aroused so keen a mental struggle in her +companion she met with entire equanimity. The reason was this: When +she made up her mind to anything, she always decided at once and with +unusual completeness; a very short time given to keen and accurate +consideration, a rapid weighing of the gains and losses of the matter +in hand, and then she went forward coldly and unswervingly on her +chosen path. Her first aim in life had been revenge, then a brilliant +and luxurious life--and she knew that they would cost dear. Therefore, +once embarked on her undertaking, Natasha remained calm and +indifferent, brilliantly distinguished, and ensnaring the just and the +unjust alike. Her intellect, education, skill, resource, and innate +tact made it possible for her everywhere to gain a footing in select +aristocratic society, and to play by no means the least rôle there. +Many beauties envied her, detested her, spoke evil of her, and yet +sought her friendship, because she almost always queened it in +society. Her friendship and sympathy always seemed so cordial, so +sincere and tender, and her epigrams were so pointed and poisonous, +that every hostile criticism seemed to shrivel up in that glittering +fire, and there seemed to be nothing left but to seek her friendship +and good will. For instance, if things went well in Baden, one could +confidently foretell that at the end of the summer season Natasha +would be found in Nice or Geneva, queen of the winter season, the +lioness of the day, and the arbiter of fashion. She and Bodlevski +always behaved with such propriety and watchful care that not a shadow +ever fell on Natasha's fame. It is true that Bodlevski had to change +his name once or twice and to seek a new field for his talents, and to +make sudden excursions to distant corners of Europe--sometimes in +pursuit of a promising "job," sometimes to evade the too persistent +attentions of the police. So far everything had turned out favorably, +and his name "had remained unstained," when suddenly a slight mishap +befell. The matter was a trifling one, but the misfortune was that it +happened in Paris. There was a chance that it might find issue in the +courts and the hulks, so that there ensued a more than ordinarily +rapid change of passports and a new excursion--this time to Russia, +back to their native land again, after an absence of twenty years. +Thus it happened that the papers announced the arrival in St. +Petersburg of Baroness von Döring and Ian Vladislav Karozitch. + + + +IX + +THE CONCERT OF THE POWERS + + +A few days after there was a brilliant reunion at Princess +Shadursky's. All the beauty and fashion of St. Petersburg were +invited, and few who were invited failed to come. It happened that +Prince Shadursky was an admirer of the fair sex, and also that he had +had the pleasure of meeting the brilliant Baroness von Döring at +Hamburg, and again in Paris. It was, therefore, to be expected that +Baroness von Döring should be found in the midst of an admiring throng +at Princess Shadursky's reception. Her brother, Ian Karozitch, was +also there, suave, alert, dignified, losing no opportunity to make +friends with the distinguished company that thronged the prince's +rooms. + +Late in the evening the baroness and her brother might have been seen +engaged in a _tête-à-tête_, seated in two comfortable armchairs, and +anyone who was near enough might have heard the following +conversation: + +"How goes it?" Karozitch asked in a low tone. + +"As you see, I am making a hit," answered the baroness in the same +quiet tone. But her manner was so detached and indifferent that no one +could have guessed her remark was of the least significance. It should +be noted that this was her first official presentation to St. +Petersburg society. And in truth her beauty, united with her lively +intellect, her amiability, and her perfect taste in dress, had +produced a general and even remarkable effect. People talked about her +and became interested in her, and her first evening won her several +admirers among those well placed in society. + +"I have been paying attention to the solid capitalists," replied +Karozitch; "we have made our _début_ in the _rôle_ of practical +actors. Well, what about him?" he continued, indicating Prince +Shadursky with his eyes. + +"In the web," she replied, with a subtle smile. + +"Then we can soon suck his brains?" + +"Soon--but he must be tied tighter first. But we must not talk here." +A moment later Karozitch and the baroness were in the midst of the +brilliant groups of guests. + +A few late comers were still arriving. "Count Kallash!" announced the +footman, who stood at the chief entrance to the large hall. + +At this new and almost unknown but high-sounding name, many eyes were +turned toward the door through which the newcomer must enter. A hum of +talk spread among the guests: + +"Count Kallash----" + +"Who is he----?" + +"It is a Hungarian name--I think I heard of him somewhere." + +"Is this his first appearance?" + +"Who is this Kallash? Oh, yes, one of the old Hungarian families----" + +"How interesting----" + +Such questions and answers crossed each other in a running fire among +the various groups of guests who filled the hall, when a young man +appeared in the doorway. + +He lingered a moment to glance round the rooms and the company; then, +as if conscious of the remarks and glances directed toward him, but +completely "ignoring" them, and without the least shyness or +awkwardness, he walked quietly through the hall to the host and +hostess of the evening. + +People of experience, accustomed to society and the ways of the great +world, can often decide from the first minute the _rôle_ which anyone +is likely to play among them. People of experience, at the first view +of this young man, at his first entrance, merely by the way he entered +the hall, decided that his _rôle_ in society would be brilliant--that +more than one feminine heart would beat faster for his presence, that +more than one dandy's wrath would be kindled by his successes. + +"How handsome he is!" a whisper went round among the ladies. The men +for the most part remained silent. A few twisted the ends of their +mustache and made as though they had not noticed him. This was already +enough to foreshadow a brilliant career. + +And indeed Count Kallash could not have passed unnoticed, even among a +thousand young men of his class. Tall and vigorous, wonderfully well +proportioned, he challenged comparison with Antinoüs. His pale face, +tanned by the sun, had an expression almost of weariness. His high +forehead, with clustering black hair and sharply marked brows, bore +the impress of passionate feeling and turbulent thought strongly +repressed. It was difficult to define the color of his deep-set, +somewhat sunken eyes, which now flashed with southern fire, and were +now veiled, so that one seemed to be looking into an abyss. A slight +mustache and pointed beard partly concealed the ironical smile that +played on his passionate lips. The natural grace of good manners and +quiet but admirably cut clothes completed the young man's exterior, +behind which, in spite of all his reticence, could be divined a +haughty and exceptional nature. A more profound psychologist would +have seen in him an obstinately passionate, ungrateful nature, which +takes from others everything it desires, demanding it from them as a +right and without even a nod of acknowledgment. Such was Count +Nicholas Kallash. + +A few days after the reception at Prince Shadursky's Baroness von +Döring was installed in a handsome apartment on Mokhovoi Street, at +which her "brother," Ian Karozitch, or, to give him his former name, +Bodlevski, was a frequent visitor. By a "lucky accident" he had met on +the day following the reception our old friend Sergei Antonovitch +Kovroff, the "captain of the Golden Band." Their recognition was +mutual, and, after a more or less faithful recital of the events of +the intervening years, they had entered into an offensive and +defensive alliance. + +When Baroness von Döring was comfortably settled in her new quarters, +Sergei Antonovitch brought a visitor to Bodlevski: none other than the +Hungarian nobleman, Count Nicholas Kallash. + +"_Gentlemen, you are strangers_; let me introduce you to each other," +said Kovroff, presenting Count Kallash to Bodlevski. + +"Very glad to know you," answered the Hungarian count, to Bodlevski's +astonishment in Russian; "very glad, indeed! I have several times had +the honor of hearing of you. Was it not you who had some trouble about +forged notes in Paris?" + +"Oh, no! You are mistaken, dear count!" answered Bodlevski, with a +pleasant smile. "The matter was not of the slightest importance. The +amount was a trifle and I was unwilling even to appear in court!" + +"You preferred a little journey to Russia, didn't you?" Kovroff +remarked with a smile. + +"Little vexations of that kind may happen to anyone," said Bodlevski, +ignoring Kovroff's interruption. "You yourself, dear count, had some +trouble about some bonds, if I am not mistaken?" + +"You are mistaken," the count interrupted him sharply. "I have had +various troubles, but I prefer not to talk about them." + +"Gentlemen," interrupted Kovroff, "we did not come here to quarrel, +but to talk business. Our good friend, Count Kallash," he went on, +turning to Bodlevski, "wishes to have the pleasure of cooperating in +our common undertaking, and--I can recommend him very highly." + +"Ah!" said Bodlevski, after a searching study of the count's face. "I +understand! the baroness will return in a few minutes and then we can +discuss matters at our leisure." + +But in spite of this understanding it was evident that Bodlevski and +Count Kallash had not impressed each other very favorably. This, +however, did not prevent the concert of the powers from working +vigorously together. + + +X + +AN UNEXPECTED REUNION + + +On the wharf of the Fontauka, not far from Simeonovski Bridge, a crowd +was gathered. In the midst of the crowd a dispute raged between an old +woman, tattered, disheveled, miserable, and an impudent-looking youth. +The old woman was evidently stupid from misery and destitution. + +While the quarrel raged a new observer approached the crowd. He was +walking leisurely, evidently without an aim and merely to pass the +time, so it is not to be wondered at that the loud dispute arrested +his attention. + +"Who are you, anyway, you old hag? What is your name?" cried the +impudent youth. + +"My name? My name?" muttered the old woman in confusion. "I am a--I am +a princess," and she blinked at the crowd. + +Everyone burst out laughing. "Her Excellency, the Princess! Make way +for the Princess!" cried the youth. + +The old woman burst into sudden anger. + +"Yes, I tell you, I am a princess by birth!" and her eyes flashed as +she tried to draw herself up and impose on the bantering crowd. + +"Princess What? Princess Which? Princess How?" cried the impudent +youth, and all laughed loudly. + +"No! Not Princess How!" answered the old woman, losing the last shred +of self-restraint; "but Princess Che-che-vin-ski! Princess Anna +Chechevinski!" + +When he heard this name Count Kallash started and his whole expression +changed. He grew suddenly pale, and with a vigorous effort pushed his +way through the crowd to the miserable old woman's side. + +"Come!" he said, taking her by the arm. "Come with me! I have +something for you!" + +"Something for me?" answered the old woman, looking up with stupid +inquiry and already forgetting the existence of the impudent youth. +"Yes, I'll come! What have you got for me?" + +Count Kallash led her by the arm out of the crowd, which began to +disperse, abashed by his appearance and air of determination. +Presently he hailed a carriage, and putting the old woman in, ordered +the coachman to drive to his rooms. + +There he did his best to make the miserable old woman comfortable, and +his housekeeper presently saw that she was washed and fed, and soon +the old woman was sleeping in the housekeeper's room. + +To explain this extraordinary event we must go back twenty years. + +In 1838 Princess Anna Chechevinski, then in her twenty-sixth year, had +defied her parents, thrown to the winds the traditions of her princely +race, and fled with the man of her choice, followed by her mother's +curses and the ironical congratulations of her brother, who thus +became sole heir. + +After a year or two she was left alone by the death of her companion, +and step by step she learned all the lessons of sorrow. From one stage +of misfortune to another she gradually fell into the deepest misery, +and had become a poor old beggar in the streets when Count Kallash +came so unexpectedly to her rescue. + +It will be remembered that, as a result of Natasha's act of vengeance, +the elder Princess Chechevinski left behind her only a fraction of the +money her son expected to inherit. And this fraction he by no means +hoarded, but with cynical disregard of the future he poured money out +like water, gambling, drinking, plunging into every form of +dissipation. Within a few months his entire inheritance was +squandered. + +Several years earlier Prince Chechevinski had taken a deep interest in +conjuring and had devoted time and care to the study of various forms +of parlor magic. He had even paid considerable sums to traveling +conjurers in exchange for their secrets. Naturally gifted, he had +mastered some of the most difficult tricks, and his skill in card +conjuring would not have done discredit even to a professional +magician. + +The evening when his capital had almost melted away and the shadow of +ruin lay heavy upon him, he happened to be present at a reception +where card play was going on and considerable sums were staked. + +A vacancy at one of the tables could not be filled, and, in spite of +his weak protest of unwillingness, Prince Chechevinski was pressed +into service. He won for the first few rounds, and then began to lose, +till the amount of his losses far exceeded the slender remainder of +his capital. A chance occurred where, by the simple expedient of +neutralizing the cut, mere child's play for one so skilled in +conjuring, he was able to turn the scale in his favor, winning back in +a single game all that he had already lost. He had hesitated for a +moment, feeling the abyss yawning beneath him; then he had falsed, +made the pass, and won the game. That night he swore to himself that +he would never cheat again, never again be tempted to dishonor his +birth; and he kept his oath till his next run of bad luck, when he +once more neutralized the cut and turned the "luck" in his direction. + +The result was almost a certainty from the outset, Prince Chechevinski +became a habitual card sharper. + +For a long time fortune favored him. His mother's reputation for +wealth, the knowledge that he was her sole heir, the high position of +the family, shielded him from suspicion. Then came the thunderclap. He +was caught in the act of "dealing a second" in the English Club, and +driven from the club as a blackleg. Other reverses followed: a public +refusal on the part of an officer to play cards with him, followed by +a like refusal to give him satisfaction in a duel; a second occasion +in which he was caught redhanded; a criminal trial; six years in +Siberia. After two years he escaped by way of the Chinese frontier, +and months after returned to Europe. For two years he practiced his +skill at Constantinople. Then he made his way to Buda-Pesth, then to +Vienna. While in the dual monarchy, he had come across a +poverty-stricken Magyar noble, named Kallash, whom he had sheltered in +a fit of generous pity, and who had died in his room at the Golden +Eagle Inn. Prince Chechevinski, who had already borne many aliases, +showed his grief at the old Magyar's death by adopting his name and +title; hence it was that he presented himself in St. Petersburg in the +season of 1858 under the high-sounding title of Count Kallash. + +An extraordinary coincidence, already described, had brought him face +to face with his sister Anna, whom he had never even heard of in all +the years since her flight. He found her now, poverty-stricken, +prematurely old, almost demented, and, though he had hated her +cordially in days gone by, his pity was aroused by her wretchedness, +and he took her to his home, clothed and fed her, and surrounded her +with such comforts as his bachelor apartment offered. + +In the days that followed, every doubt he might have had as to her +identity was dispelled. She talked freely of their early childhood, of +their father's death, of their mother; she even spoke of her brother's +coldness and hostility in terms which drove away the last shadow of +doubt whether she was really his sister. But at first he made no +corresponding revelations, remaining for her only Count Kallash. + + +XI + +THE PHOTOGRAPH ALBUM + + +Little by little, however, as the poor old woman recovered something +of health and strength, his heart went out toward her. Telling her +only certain incidents of his life, he gradually brought the narrative +back to the period, twenty years before, immediately after their +mother's death, and at last revealed himself to his sister, after +making her promise secrecy as to his true name. Thus matters went on +for nearly two years. + +The broken-down old woman lived in his rooms in something like +comfort, and took pleasure in dusting and arranging his things. One +day, when she was tidying the sitting room, her brother was startled +by a sudden exclamation, almost a cry, which broke from his sister's +lips. + +"Oh, heaven, it is she!" she cried, her eyes fixed on a page of the +photograph album she had been dusting. "Brother, come here; for +heaven's sake, who is this?" + +"Baroness von Döring," curtly answered Kallash, glancing quickly at +the photograph. "What do you find interesting in her?" + +"It is either she or her double! Do you know who she looks like?" + +"Lord only knows! Herself, perhaps!" + +"No, she has a double! I am sure of it! Do you remember, at mother's, +my maid Natasha?" + +"Natasha?" the count considered, knitting his brows in the effort to +recollect. + +"Yes, Natasha, my maid. A tall, fair girl. A thick tress of chestnut +hair. She had such beautiful hair! And her lips had just the same +proud expression. Her eyes were piercing and intelligent, her brows +were clearly marked and joined together--in a word, the very original +of this photograph!" + +"Ah," slowly and quietly commented the count, pressing his hand to his +brow. "Exactly. Now I remember! Yes, it is a striking likeness." + +"But look closely," cried the old woman excitedly; "it is the living +image of Natasha! Of course she is more matured, completely developed. +How old is the baroness?" + +"She must be approaching forty. But she doesn't look her age; you +would imagine her to be about thirty-two from her appearance." + +"There! And Natasha would be just forty by now!" + +"The ages correspond," answered her brother. + +"Yes." Princess Anna sighed sadly. "Twenty-two years have passed since +then. But if I met her face to face I think I would recognize her at +once. Tell me, who is she?" + +"The baroness? How shall I tell you? She has been abroad for twenty +years, and for the last two years she has lived here. In society she +says she is a foreigner, but with me she is franker, and I know that +she speaks Russian perfectly. She declares that her husband is +somewhere in Germany, and that she lives here with her brother." + +"Who is the 'brother'?" asked the old princess curiously. + +"The deuce knows! He is also a bit shady. Oh, yes! Sergei Kovroff +knows him; he told me something about their history; he came here with +a forged passport, under the name of Vladislav Karozitch, but his real +name is Kasimir Bodlevski." + +"Kasimir Bodlevski," muttered the old woman, knitting her brows. "Was +he not once a lithographer or an engraver, or something of the sort?" + +"I think he was. I think Kovroff said something about it. He is a fine +engraver still." + +"He was? Well, there you are!" and Princess Anna rose quickly from her +seat. "It is she--it is Natasha! She used to tell me she had a +sweetheart, a Polish hero, Bodlevski. And I think his name was +Kasimir. She often got my permission to slip out to visit him; she +said he worked for a lithographer, and always begged me to persuade +mother to liberate her from serfdom, so that she could marry him." + +This unexpected discovery meant much to Kallash. Circumstances, +hitherto slight and isolated, suddenly gained a new meaning, and were +lit up in a way that made him almost certain of the truth. He now +remembered that Kovroff had once told him of his first acquaintance +with Bodlevski, when he came on the Pole at the Cave, arranging for a +false passport; he remembered that Natasha had disappeared immediately +before the death of the elder Princess Chechevinski, and he also +remembered how, returning from the cemetery, he had been cruelly +disappointed in his expectations when he had found in the strong box a +sum very much smaller than he had always counted on, and with some +foundation; and before him, with almost complete certainty, appeared +the conclusion that the maid's disappearance was connected with the +theft of his mother's money, and especially of the securities in his +sister's name, and that all this was nothing but the doing of Natasha +and her companion Bodlevski. + +"Very good! Perhaps this information will come in handy!" he said to +himself, thinking over his future measures and plans. "Let us see--let +us feel our way--perhaps it is really so! But I must go carefully and +keep on my guard, and the whole thing is in my hands, dear baroness! +We will spin a thread from you before all is over." + + +XII + +THE BARONESS AT HOME + + +Every Wednesday Baroness von Döring received her intimate friends. She +did not care for rivals, and therefore ladies were not invited to +these evenings. The intimate circle of the baroness consisted of our +Knights of Industry and the "pigeons" of the bureaucracy, the world of +finance, the aristocracy, which were the objects of the knights' +desires. + +It often happened, however, that the number of guests at these +intimate evenings went as high as fifty, and sometimes even more. + +The baroness was passionately fond of games of chance, and always sat +down to the card table with enthusiasm. But as this was done +conspicuously, in sight of all her guests, the latter could not fail +to note that fortune obstinately turned away from the baroness. She +almost never won on the green cloth; sometimes Kovroff won, sometimes +Kallash, sometimes Karozitch, but with the slight difference that the +last won more seldom and less than the other two. + +Thus every Wednesday a considerable sum found its way from the +pocketbook of the baroness into that of one of her colleagues, to find +its way back again the next morning. The purpose of this clever scheme +was that the "pigeons" who visited the luxurious salons of the +baroness, and whose money paid the expenses of these salons, should +not have the smallest grounds for suspicion that the dear baroness's +apartment was nothing but a den of sharpers. Her guests all considered +her charming, to begin with, and also rich and independent and +passionate by nature. This explained her love of play and the +excitement it brought, and which she would not give up, in spite of +her repeated heavy losses. + +Her colleagues, the Knights of Industry, acted on a carefully devised +and rigidly followed plan. They were far from putting their uncanny +skill in motion every Wednesday. So long as they had no big game in +sight, the game remained clean and honest. In this way the band might +lose two or three thousand rubles, but such a loss had no great +importance, and was soon made up when some fat "pigeon" appeared. + +It sometimes happened that this wily scheme of honest play went on for +five or six weeks in succession, so that the small fry, winning the +band's money, remained entirely convinced that it was playing in an +honorable and respectable private house, and very naturally spread +abroad the fame of it throughout the whole city. But when the fat +pigeon at last appeared, the band put forth all its forces, all the +wiles of the black art, and in a few hours made up for the generous +losses of a month of honorable and irreproachable play on the green +cloth. + +Midnight was approaching. + +The baroness's rooms were brilliantly lit up, but, thanks to the thick +curtains which covered the windows, the lights could not be seen from +the street, though several carriages were drawn up along the sidewalk. + +Opening into the elegant drawing-room was a not less elegant card +room, appreciatively nicknamed the Inferno by the band. In it stood a +large table with a green cloth, on which lay a heap of bank notes and +two little piles of gold, before which sat Sergei Antonovitch Kovroff, +presiding over the bank with the composure of a true gentleman. + +What Homeric, Jovine calm rested on every feature of his face! What +charming, fearless self-assurance, what noble self-confidence in his +smile, in his glance! What grace, what distinction in his pose, and +especially in the hand which dealt the cards! Sergei Kovroff's hands +were decidedly worthy of attention. They were almost always clad in +new gloves, which he only took off on special occasions, at dinner, or +when he had some writing to do, or when he sat down to a game of +cards. As a result, his hands were almost feminine in their delicacy, +the sensibility of the finger tips had reached an extraordinary degree +of development, equal to that of one born blind. And those fingers +were skillful, adroit, alert, their every movement carried out with +that smooth, indefinable grace which is almost always possessed by the +really high-class card sharper. His fingers were adorned with numerous +rings, in which sparkled diamonds and other precious stones. And it +was not for nothing that Sergei Kovroff took pride in them! This +glitter of diamonds, scattering rainbow rays, dazzled the eyes of his +fellow players. When Sergei Kovroff sat down to preside over the bank, +the sparkling of the diamonds admirably masked those motions of his +fingers which needed to be masked; they almost insensibly drew away +the eyes of the players from his fingers, and this was most of all +what Sergei Kovroff desired. + +Round the table about thirty guests were gathered. Some of them sat, +but most of them played standing, with anxious faces, feverishly +sparkling eyes, and breathing heavily and unevenly. Some were pale, +some flushed, and all watched with passionate eagerness the fall of +the cards. There were also some who had perfect command of themselves, +distinguished by extraordinary coolness, and jesting lightly whether +they lost or won. But such happily constituted natures are always a +minority when high play is going on. + +Silence reigned in the Inferno. There was almost no conversation; only +once in a while was heard a remark, in a whisper or an undertone, +addressed by a player to his neighbor; the only sound was that short, +dry rustle of the cards and the crackling of new bank notes, or the +tinkle of gold coins making their way round the table from the bank to +the players, and from the players back to the bank. + +The two Princes Shadursky, father and son, both lost heavily. They sat +opposite Sergei Kovroff, and between them sat Baroness von Döring, who +played in alliance with them. The clever Natasha egged them on, +kindling their excitement with all the skill and calculation possible +to one whose blood was as cold as the blood of a fish, and both the +Shadurskys had lost their heads, no longer knowing how much they were +losing. + + +XIII + +AN EXPLANATION + + +Count Kallash and his sister had just breakfasted when the count's +French footman entered the study. + +"Madame la baronne von Döring!" he announced obsequiously. + +Brother and sister exchanged a rapid glance. + +"Now is our opportunity to make sure," said Kallash, with a smile. + +"If it is she, I shall recognize her by her voice," whispered Princess +Anna. "Shall I remain here or go?" + +"Remain in the meantime; it will be a curious experience. _Faites +entrer_!" he added to the footman. + +A moment later light, rapid footsteps were heard in the entrance hall, +and the rustling of a silk skirt. + +"How do you do, count! I have come to see you for a moment. I came in +all haste, on purpose. I have come _in person_, you must be duly +appreciative! Vladislav is too busy, and the matter is an important +one. I wanted to see you at the earliest opportunity. Well, we may all +congratulate ourselves. Fate and fortune are decidedly on our side!" +said the baroness, speaking rapidly, as she entered the count's study. + +"What has happened? What is the news?" asked the count, going forward +to meet her. + +"We have learned that the Shadurskys have just received a large sum of +money; they have sold an estate, and the purchaser has paid them in +cash. Our opportunity has come. Heaven forbid that we should lose it! +We must devise a plan to make the most of it." + +The baroness suddenly stopped short in the middle of the sentence, and +became greatly confused, noticing that there was a third person +present. + +"Forgive me! I did not give you warning," said the count, shrugging +his shoulders and smiling; "permit me! _Princess Anna Chechevinski!_" +he continued with emphasis, indicating his poor, decrepit sister. "Of +course you would not have recognized her, baroness." + +"But _I_ recognized Natasha immediately," said the old woman quietly, +her eyes still fixed on Natasha's face. + +The baroness suddenly turned as white as a sheet, and with trembling +hands caught the back of a heavy armchair. + +Kallash with extreme politeness assisted her to a seat. + +"You didn't expect to meet me, Natasha?" said the old woman gently and +almost caressingly, approaching her. + +"I do not know you. Who are you?" the baroness managed to whisper, by +a supreme effort. + +"No wonder; I am so changed," replied Princess Anna. "But _you_ are +just the same. There is hardly any change at all." + +Natasha began to recover her composure. + +"I don't understand you," she said coldly, contracting her brows. + +"But I understand _you_ perfectly." + +"Allow me, princess," Kallash interrupted her, "permit me to have an +explanation with the baroness; she and I know each other well. And if +you will pardon me, I shall ask you in the meantime to withdraw." + +And he courteously conducted his sister to the massive oak doors, +which closed solidly after her. + +"What does this mean?" said the baroness, rising angrily, her gray +eyes flashing at the count from under her broad brows. + +"A coincidence," answered Kallash, shrugging his shoulders with an +ironical smile. + +"How a coincidence? Speak clearly!" + +"The former mistress has recognized her former maid--that is all." + +"How does this woman come to be here? Who is she?" + +"I have told you already; Princess Anna Chechevinski. And as to how +she came here, that was also a coincidence, and a strange one." + +"Impossible!" exclaimed the baroness. + +"Why impossible? They say the dead sometimes return from the tomb, and +the princess is still alive. And why should the matter not have +happened thus, for instance? Princess Anna Chechevinski's maid Natasha +took advantage of the confidence and illness of the elder princess to +steal from her strong box, with the aid of her sweetheart, Kasimir +Bodlevski, money and securities--mark this, baroness--securities in +the name of Princess Anna. And might it not happen that this same +lithographer Bodlevski should get false passports at the Cave, for +himself and his sweetheart, and flee with her across the frontier, and +might not this same maid, twenty years later, return to Russia under +the name of Baroness von Döring? You must admit that there is nothing +fantastic in all this! What is the use of concealing? You see I know +everything!" + +"And what follows from all this?" replied the baroness with a forced +smile of contempt. + +"Much _may_ follow from it," significantly but quietly replied +Kallash. "But at present the only important matter is, that I know +all. I repeat it--_all_." + +"Where are your facts?" asked the baroness. + +"Facts? Hm!" laughed Kallash. "If facts are needed, they will be +forthcoming. Believe me, dear baroness, that if I had not legally +sufficient facts in my hands, I would not have spoken to you of this." + +Kallash lied, but lied with the most complete appearance of +probability. + +The baroness again grew confused and turned white. + +"Where are your facts? Put them in my hands!" she said at last, after +a prolonged silence. + +"Oh, this is too much! Get hold of them yourself!" the count replied, +with the same smile. "The facts are generally set forth to the +prisoner by the court; but it is enough for you in the meantime to +know that the facts exist, and that they are in my possession. +Believe, if you wish. If you do not wish, do not believe. I will +neither persuade you nor dissuade you." + +"And this means that I am in your power? she said slowly, raising her +piercing glance to his face. + +"Yes; it means that you are in my power," quietly and confidently +answered Count Kallash. + +"But you forget that you and I are in the same boat." + +"You mean that I am a sharper, like you and Bodlevski? Well, you are +right. We are all berries of the same bunch--except _her_" (and he +indicated the folding doors). "She, thanks to many things, has tasted +misery, but she is honest. But we are all rascals, and I first of all. +You are perfectly right in that. If you wish to get me in your +power--try to find some facts against me. Then we shall be quits!" + +"And what is it you wish?" + +"It is too late for justice, at least so far as she is concerned," +replied the count, with a touch of sadness; "but it is not too late +for a measure of reparation. But we can discuss that later," he went +on more lightly, as if throwing aside the heavy impression produced by +the thought of Princess Anna's misery. "And now, dear baroness, let us +return to business, the business of Prince Shadursky! I will think the +matter over, and see whether anything suggests itself." + +He courteously conducted the baroness to the carriage, and they +parted, to all appearance, friends. But there were dangerous elements +for both in that seeming friendship. + + +XIV + +GOLD MINING + + +A wonderful scheme was hatched in Count Kallash's fertile brain. +Inspired by the thought of Prince Shadursky's newly replenished +millions, he devised a plan for the gang which promised brilliant +results, and only needed the aid of a discreet and skillful +confederate. And what confederate could be more trustworthy than +Sergei Antonovitch Kovroff? So the two friends were presently to be +found in secret consultation in the count's handsome study, with a +bottle of good Rhine wine before them, fine cigars between their lips, +and the memory of a well-served breakfast lingering pleasantly in +their minds. They were talking about the new resources of the +Shadurskys. + +"To take their money at cards--what a wretched business--and so +infernally commonplace," said Count Kallash. "To tell you the truth, I +have for a long time been sick of cards! And, besides, time is money! +Why should we waste several weeks, or even months, over something that +could be done in a few days?" + +Kovroff agreed completely, but at the same time put the question, if +not cards, what plan was available? + +"That is it exactly!" cried Kallash, warming up. "I have thought it +all over. The problem is this: we must think up something that would +surprise Satan himself, something that would make all Hades smile and +blow us hot kisses. But what of Hades?--that's all nonsense. We must +do something that will make the whole Golden Band throw up their caps. +That is what we have to do!" + +"Quite a problem," lazily answered Kovroff, chewing the end of his +cigar. "But you are asking too much." + +"But that is not all," the count interrupted him; "listen! This is +what my problem demands. We must think of some project that unites two +precious qualities: first, a rapid and huge profit; second, entire +absence of risk." + +"Conditions not altogether easy to fulfill," remarked Kovroff +doubtfully. + +"So it seems. And daring plans are not to be picked up in the street, +but are the result of inspiration. It is what is called a 'heavenly +gift,' my dear friend." + +"And you have had an inspiration?" smiled Sergei Antonovitch, with a +slightly ironical shade of friendly skepticism. + +"I have had an inspiration," replied the supposititious Hungarian +nobleman, falling into the other's tone. + +"And your muse is----?" + +"The tenth of the muses," the count interrupted him: "another name is +Industry." + +"She is the muse of all of us." + +"And mine in particular. But we are not concerned with her, but with +her prophetic revelations." + +"Oh, dear count! Circumlocutions apart! This Rhine wine evidently +carries you to misty Germany. Tell me simply what the matter is." + +"The matter is simply this: we must institute a society of 'gold +miners,' and we must find gold in places where the geological +indications are dead against it. That is the problem. The Russian +laws, under threat of arrest and punishment, sternly forbid the +citizens of the Russian Empire, and likewise the citizens of other +lands within the empire, to buy or sell the noble metals in their +crude form, that is, in nuggets, ore, or dust. For example, if you +bought gold in the rough from me--gold dust, for example--we should +both, according to law, have to take a pleasant little trip beyond the +Ural Mountains to Siberia, and there we should have to engage in +mining the precious metal ourselves. A worthy occupation, no doubt, +but not a very profitable one for us." + +"Our luxuries would be strictly limited," jested Kovroff, with a wry +smile. + +"There it is! You won't find many volunteers for that occupation, and +that is the fulcrum of my whole plan. You must understand that gold +dust in the mass is practically indistinguishable in appearance from +brass filings. Let us suppose that we secretly sell some perfectly +pure brass filings for gold dust, and that they are readily bought of +us, because we sell considerably below the market rate. It goes +without saying that the purchaser will presently discover that we have +done him brown. But, I ask you, will he go and accuse us knowing that, +as the penalty for his purchase, he will have to accompany us along +the Siberian road?" + +"No man is his own enemy," sententiously replied Kovroff, beginning to +take a vivid interest in what his companion was saying. "But how are +you going to work it?" + +"You will know at the proper time. The chief thing is, that our +problem is solved in the most decisive manner. You and I are pretty +fair judges of human nature, so we may be pretty sure that we shall +always find purchasers, and I suggest that we make a beginning on +young Prince Shadursky. How we shall get him into it is my business. +I'll tell you later on. But how do you like the general idea of my +plan?" + +"It's clever enough!" cried Kovroff, pressing his hand with the gay +enthusiasm of genuine interest. + +"For this truth much thanks!" cried Kallash, clinking glasses with +him. "It is clever--that is the best praise I could receive from you. +Let us drink to the success of my scheme!" + + +XV + +THE FISH BITES + + +Three days after this conversation the younger prince Shadursky dined +with Sergei Antonovitch Kovroff. + +That morning he received a note from Kovroff, in which the worthy +Sergei complained of ill health and begged the prince to come and dine +with him and cheer him up. + +The prince complied with his request, and appearing at the appointed +time found Count Kallash alone with his host. + +Among other gossip, the prince announced that he expected shortly to +go to Switzerland, as he had bad reports of the health of his mother, +who was in Geneva. + +At this news Kallash glanced significantly toward Kovroff. + +Passing from topic to topic, the conversation finally turned to the +financial position of Russia. Sergei Antonovitch, according to his +expression, "went to the root of the matter," and indicated the +"source of the evil," very frankly attacking the policy of the +government, which did everything to discourage gold mining, hedging +round this most important industry with all kinds of difficulties, and +practically prohibiting the free production of the precious metals by +laying on it a dead weight of costly formalities. + +"I have facts ready to hand," he went on, summing up his argument. "I +have an acquaintance here, an employee of one of the best-known men in +the gold-mining industry." Here Kovroff mentioned a well-known name. +"He is now in St. Petersburg. Well, a few days ago he suddenly came to +me as if he had something weighing on his mind. And I have had +business relations with him in times past. Well, what do you think? He +suddenly made me a proposal, secretly of course; would I not take some +gold dust off his hands? You must know that these trusted employees +every year bring several hundred pounds of gold from Asia, and of +course it stands to reason that they cannot get rid of it in the +ordinary way, but smuggle it through private individuals. It is +uncommonly profitable for the purchasers, because they buy far below +the market rates. So there are plenty of purchasers. Several of the +leading jewelers" (and here he named three or four of the best-known +firms) "never refuse such a deal, and last year a banking house in +Berlin bought a hundred pounds' weight of gold through agents here. +Well, this same employee, my acquaintance, is looking for an +opportunity to get rid of his wares. And he tells me he managed to +bring in about forty pounds of gold, if not more. I introduce this +fact to illustrate the difficulties put in the way of enterprise by +our intelligent government." + +Shadursky did not greatly occupy himself with serious questions and he +was totally ignorant of all details of financial undertakings. It was, +therefore, perfectly easy for Sergei Antonovitch to assume a tone of +solid, practical sense, which imposed completely on the young prince. +Young Shadursky, from politeness, and to prove his worldly wisdom, +assented to Kovroff's statements with equal decision. All the same, +from this conversation, he quite clearly seized on the idea that under +certain circumstances it would be possible to buy gold at a much lower +price than that demanded by the Imperial Bank. And this was just the +thought which Kallash and Kovroff wished to sow in the young prince's +mind. + +"Of course, I myself do not go in for that kind of business," went on +Kovroff carelessly, "and so I could not give my friend any help. But +if some one were going abroad, for instance, he might well risk such +an operation, which would pay him a very handsome profit." + +"How so? In what way?" asked Shadursky. + +"Very simply. You buy the goods here, as I already said, much below +the government price. So that to begin with you make a very profitable +bargain. Then you go abroad with your wares and there, as soon as the +exchange value of gold goes up, you can sell it at the nearest bank. I +know, for instance, that the agent of the ---- Bank" (and he mentioned +a name well known in St. Petersburg) "made many a pretty penny for +himself by just such a deal. This is how it was: He bought gold dust +for forty thousand rubles, and six weeks later got rid of it in +Hamburg for sixty thousand. Whatever you may say, fifty per cent on +your capital in a month and a half is pretty good business." + +"Deuce take it! A pretty profitable bargain, without a doubt!" cried +Shadursky, jumping from his chair. "It would just suit me! I could get +rid of it in Geneva or Paris," he went on in a jesting tone. + +"What do you think? Of course!" Sergei Antonovitch took him up, but in +a serious tone. "You or some one else--in any case it would be a good +bargain. For my acquaintance has to go back to Asia, and has only a +few days to spare. He doesn't know where to turn and rather than take +his gold back with him, he would willingly let it go at an even lower +rate than the smugglers generally ask. If I had enough free cash I +would go in for it myself." + +"It looks a good proposition," commented Count Kallash. + +"It is certainly very enticing; what do you think?" said Prince +Shadursky interrogatively, folding his arms. + +"Hm--yes! very enticing," answered Kovroff. "A fine chance for anyone +who has the money." + +"I would not object! I would not object!" protested Shadursky. +"Suppose you let me become acquainted with your friend." + +"You? Well--" And Kovroff considered; "if you wish. Why not? Only I +warn you, first, if you are going to buy, buy quickly, for my friend +can't wait; and secondly, keep the matter a complete secret, for very +unpleasant results might follow." + +"That goes without saying. That stands to reason," assented Shadursky. +"I can get the money at once and I am just going abroad, in a day or +two at the latest. So it would be foolish to miss such a chance. So it +is a bargain?" And he held out his hand to Kovroff. + +"How a bargain?" objected the cautious Sergei Antonovitch. "I am not +personally concerned in the matter, and you must admit, my dear +prince, that I can make no promises for my acquaintance." + +"I don't mean that!" cried Shadursky. "I only ask you to arrange for +me to meet him. Bring us together--and drop him a hint that I do not +object to buying his wares. You will confer a great obligation on me." + +"Oh, that is quite a different matter. That I can always do; the more +so, because we are such good friends. Why should I not do you such a +trifling service? As far as an introduction is concerned, you may +count on it." And they cordially shook each other by the hand. + + +XVI + +GOLD DUST + + +Both Kallash and Kovroff were too cautious to take an immediate, +personal part in the gold-dust sale. There was a certain underling, +Mr. Escrocevitch by name, at Sergei Kovroff's beck and call--a shady +person, rather dirty in aspect, and who was, therefore, only admitted +to Sergei's presence by the back door and through the kitchen, and +even then only at times when there were no outsiders present. + +Mr. Escrocevitch was a person of general utility and was especially +good at all kinds of conjuring tricks. Watches, snuff-boxes, +cigar-cases, silver spoons, and even heavy bronze paper-weights +acquired the property of suddenly vanishing from under his hands, and +of suddenly reappearing in a quite unexpected quarter. This valuable +gift had been acquired by Mr. Escrocevitch in his early years, when he +used to wander among the Polish fairs, swallowing burning flax for the +delectation of the public and disgorging endless yards of ribbon and +paper. + +Mr. Escrocevitch was a precious and invaluable person also owing to +his capacity of assuming any _rôle_, turning himself into any given +character, and taking on the corresponding tone, manners, and +appearance, and he was, further, a pretty fair actor. + +He it was who was chosen to play the part of the Siberian employee. + +Not more than forty-eight hours had passed since the previous +conversation. Prince Shadursky was just up, when his footman announced +to him that a Mr. Valyajnikoff wished to see him. + +The prince put on his dressing gown and went into the drawing-room, +where the tolerably presentable but strangely dressed person of Mr. +Escrocevitch presented itself to him. + +"Permit me to have the honor of introducing myself," he began, bowing +to Prince Shadursky; "I am Ivanovitch Valyajnikoff. Mr. Sergei +Antonovitch Kovroff was so good as to inform me of a certain intention +of yours about the dust. So, if your excellency has not changed your +mind, I am ready to sell it to you with pleasure." + +"Very good of you," answered Prince Shadursky, smiling gayly, and +giving him a chair. + +"To lose no time over trifles," continued Mr. Escrocevitch, "let me +invite you to my quarters. I am staying at a hotel; you can see the +goods there; you can make tests, and, if you are satisfied, I shall be +very happy to oblige your excellency." + +Prince Shadursky immediately finished dressing, ordered his carriage, +and went out with the supposititious Valyajnikoff. They drove to a +shabby hotel and went to a dingy room. + +"This is my poor abode. I am only here on the wing, so to speak. I +humbly request you to be seated," Mr. Escrocevitch said obsequiously. +"Not to lose precious time, perhaps your excellency would like to look +at my wares? Here they are--and I am most willing to show them." + +And he dragged from under the bed a big trunk, in which were five +canvas bags of various sizes, packed full and tied tightly. + +"Here, here it is! This is our Siberian dust," he said, smiling and +bowing, indicating the trunk with a wave of his hand, as if +introducing it to Prince Shadursky. + +"Would not your excellency be so good as to choose one of these bags +to make a test? It will be much better if you see yourself that the +business is above board, with no swindle about it. Choose whichever +you wish!" + +Shadursky lifted one of the bags from the trunk, and when Mr. +Escrocevitch untied it before the young prince's eyes appeared a mass +of metallic grains, at which he gazed not without inward pleasure. + +"How are you going to make a test?" he asked. "We have no blow-pipes +nor test-tubes here?" + +"Make your mind easy, your excellency! We shall find everything we +require--blow-pipes and test-tubes and nitric acid, and even a decimal +weighing machine. In our business we arrange matters in such a way +that we need not disturb outsiders. Only charcoal we haven't got, but +we can easily send for some." + +And going to the door, he gave the servant in the passage an order, +and a few minutes later the latter returned with a dish of charcoal. + +"First class! Now everything is ready," cried Mr. Escrocevitch, +rubbing his hands; and for greater security he turned the key in the +door. + +"Take whichever piece of charcoal you please, your excellency; but, +not to soil your hands, you had better let me take it myself, and you +sprinkle some of the dust on it," and he humbled himself before the +prince. "Forgive me for asking you to do it all yourself, since it is +not from any lack of politeness on my part, but simply in order that +your excellency should be fully convinced that there is no deception." +Saying this, he got his implements ready and lit the lamp. + +The blow-pipe came into action. Valyajnikoff made the experiment, and +Shadursky attentively followed every movement. The charcoal glowed +white hot, the dust ran together and disappeared, and in its place, +when the charcoal had cooled a little, and the amateur chemist +presented it to Prince Shadursky, the prince saw a little ball of gold +lying in a crevice of the charcoal, such as might easily have formed +under the heat of the blow-pipe. + +"Take the globule, your excellency, and place it, for greater +security, in your pocketbook," said Escrocevitch; "you may even wrap +it up in a bit of paper; and keep the sack of gold dust yourself, so +that there can be no mistake." + +Shadursky gladly followed this last piece of advice. + +"And now, your excellency, I should like you kindly to select another +bag; we shall make two or three more tests in the same way." + +The prince consented to this also. + +Escrocevitch handed him a new piece of charcoal to sprinkle dust on, +and once more brought the blow-pipe into operation. And again the +brass filings disappeared and in the crevice appeared a new globule of +gold. + +"Well, perhaps these two tests will be sufficient. What is your +excellency good enough to think on that score?" asked the supposed +Valyajnikoff. + +"What is the need of further tests? The matter is clear enough," +assented the prince. + +"If it is satisfactory, we shall proceed to make it even more +satisfactory. Here we have a touch-stone, and here we have some nitric +acid. Try the globules on the touch-stone physically, and, so to +speak, with the nitric acid chemically. And if you wish to make even +more certain, this is what we shall do. What quantity of gold does +your excellency wish to take?" + +"The more the better. I am ready to buy all these bags." + +"_Very_ much obliged to your excellency, as this will suit me +admirably," said Escrocevitch, bowing low. "And so, if your excellency +is ready, then I humbly beg you to take each bag, examine it, and seal +it with your excellency's own seal. Then let us take one of the +globules and go to one of the best jewelers in St. Petersburg. Let him +tell us the value of the gold and in this way the business will be +exact; there will be no room for complaint on either side, since +everything will be fair and above board." + +The prince was charmed with the honesty and frankness of Mr. +Valyajnikoff. + +They went together to one of the best-known jewelers, who, in their +presence, made a test and announced that the gold was chemically pure, +without any alloy, and therefore of the highest value. + +On their return to the hotel, Mr. Escrocevitch weighed the bags, which +turned out to weigh forty-eight pounds. Allowing three pounds for the +weight of the bags, this left forty-five pounds of pure gold. + +"How much a pound do you want?" Shadursky asked him. + +"A pretty low price, your excellency," answered the Siberian, with a +shrug of his shoulders, "as I am selling from extreme necessity, +because I have to leave for Siberia; I've spent too much time and +money in St. Petersburg already; and if I cannot sell my wares, I +shall not be able to go at all. I assume that the government price is +known to your excellency?" + +"But I am willing to take two hundred rubles a pound." + +I can't take a kopeck less, and even so I am making a reduction of +nearly a hundred rubles the pound." + +"All right!" assented Shadursky. "That will amount to--" he went on, +knitting his brows, "forty-five pounds at two hundred rubles a +pound----" + +"It will make exactly nine thousand, your excellency. Just exactly +nine," Escrocevitch obsequiously helped him out. The prince, cutting +the matter short, immediately gave him a check, and taking the trunk +with the coveted bags, drove with the Siberian employee to his +father's house, where the elder Prince Shadursky, at his son's +pressing demand, though very unwillingly, exchanged the check for nine +thousand rubles in bills, for which Ivan Ivanovitch Valyajnikoff +forthwith gave a receipt. The prince was delighted with his purchase, +and he did not utter a syllable about it to anyone except Kovroff. + +Sergei Antonovitch gave him a friendly counsel not to waste any time, +but to go abroad at once, as, according to the _Exchange Gazette_, +gold was at that moment very high, so that he had an admirable +opportunity to get rid of his wares on very favorable terms. + +The prince, in fact, without wasting time got his traveling passport, +concealed his purchase with the utmost care, and set out for the +frontier, announcing that he was on his way to his mother, whose +health imperatively demanded his presence. + +The success of the whole business depended on the fact that brass +filings, which bear a strong external resemblance to gold dust, are +dissipated in the strong heat of the blow-pipe. The charcoal was +prepared beforehand, a slight hollow being cut in it with a penknife, +in the bottom of which is placed a globule of pure gold, the top of +which is just below the level of the charcoal, and the hollow is +filled up with powdered charcoal mixed with a little bees-wax. The +"chemist" who makes the experiments must make himself familiar with +the distinctive appearance of the charcoal, so as to pick it out from +among several pieces, and must remember exactly where the crevice is. + +On this first occasion, Escrocevitch had prepared all four pieces of +charcoal, which were brought by the servant in the passage. He chose +as his temporary abode a hotel whose proprietor was an old ally of +his, and the servant was also a confederate. + +Thus was founded the famous "Gold Products Company," which is still in +very successful operation, and is constantly widening its sphere of +activity. + + +XVII + +THE DELUGE + + +Count Kallash finally decided on his course of action. It was too late +to seek justice for his sister, but not too late for a tardy +reparation. The gang had prospered greatly, and the share of Baroness +von Döring and Bodlevski already amounted to a very large figure. +Count Kallash determined to demand for his sister a sum equal to that +of the securities in her name which Natasha had stolen, calculating +that this would be enough to maintain his sister in peace and comfort +to the end of her days. His own life was too stormy, too full of risks +for him to allow his sister's fate to depend on his, so he had decided +to settle her in some quiet nook where, free from danger, she might +dream away her few remaining years. + +To his surprise Baroness von Döring flatly refused to be put under +contribution. + +"Your demand is outrageous," she said. "I am not going to be the +victim of any such plot!" + +"Very well, I will compel you to unmask?" + +"To unmask? What do you mean, count? You forget yourself!" + +"Well, then, I shall try to make you remember me!" And Kallash turned +his back on her and strode from the room. A moment later, and she +heard the door close loudly behind him. + +The baroness had already told Bodlevski of her meeting with Princess +Anna, and she now hurried to him for counsel. They agreed that their +present position, with Kallash's threats hanging over their heads, was +intolerable. But what was to be done? + +Bodlevski paced up and down the room, biting his lips, and seeking +some decisive plan. + +"We must act in such a way," he said, coming to a stand before the +baroness, "as to get rid of this fellow once for all. I think he is +dangerous, and it never does any harm to take proper precautions. Get +the money ready, Natasha; we must give it to him." + +"What! give him the money!" and the baroness threw up her hands. "Will +that get us out of his power? Can we feel secure? It will only last +till something new happens. At the first occasion----" + +"Which will also be the last!" interrupted Bodlevski. "Suppose we do +give him the money to-day; does that mean that we give it for good? +Not at all! It will be back in my pocket to-morrow! Let us think it +out properly!" and he gave her a friendly pat on the shoulder, and sat +down in an easy chair in front of her. + +The result of their deliberations was a little note addressed to Count +Kallash: + +"DEAR COUNT," it ran, "I was guilty of an act of folly toward you +to-day. I am ashamed of it, and wish to make amends as soon as +possible. We have always been good friends, so let us forget our +little difference, the more so that an alliance is much more +advantageous to us both than a quarrel. Come this evening to receive +the money you spoke of, and to clasp in amity the hand of your devoted +friend, VON D." + +Kallash came about ten o'clock in the evening, and received from +Bodlevski the sum of fifty thousand rubles in notes. The baroness was +very amiable, and persuaded him to have some tea. There was not a +suggestion of future difficulties, and everything seemed to promise +perfect harmony for the future. Bodlevski talked over plans of future +undertakings, and told him, with evident satisfaction, that they had +just heard of the arrest of the younger Prince Shadursky, in Paris, +for attempting to defraud a bank by a pretended sale of gold dust. +Count Kallash was also gay, and a certain satisfaction filled his mind +at the thought of his sister's security, as he felt the heavy packet +of notes in his pocket. He smoked his cigar with evident satisfaction, +sipping the fragrant tea from time to time. The conversation was gay +and animated, and for some reason or other turned to the subject of +clubs. + +"Ah, yes," interposed Bodlevski, "_a propos_! I expect to be a member +of the Yacht Club this summer. Let me recommend to you a new field of +action. They will disport themselves on the green water, and we on the +green cloth! By the way, I forgot to speak of it--I bought a boat the +other day, a mere rowboat. It is on the Fontauka Canal, at the +Simeonovski bridge. We must come for a row some day." + +"Delightful," exclaimed the baroness. "But why some day? Why not +to-night? The moon is beautiful, and, indeed, it is hardly dark at +midnight. Your speaking of boats has filled me with a sudden desire to +go rowing. What do you say, dear count?" and she turned amiably to +Kallash. + +Count Kallash at once consented, considering the baroness's idea an +admirable one, and they were soon on their way toward the Simeonovski +bridge. + +"How delightful it is!" cried the baroness, some half hour later, as +they were gliding over the quiet water. "Count, do you like strong +sensations?" she asked suddenly. + +"I am fond of strong sensations of every kind," he replied, taking up +her challenge. + +"Well, I am going to offer you a little sensation, though it always +greatly affects me. Everything is just right for it, and I am in the +humor, too." + +"What is it to be?" asked Count Kallash indifferently. + +"You will see in a moment. Do you know that there are underground +canals in St. Petersburg?" + +"In St. Petersburg?" asked Kallash in astonishment. + +"Yes, in St. Petersburg! A whole series of underground rivers, wide +enough for a boat to pass through. I have rowed along them several +times. Does not that offer a new sensation, something quite unlike St. +Petersburg?" + +"Yes, it is certainly novel," answered Count Kallash, now interested. +"Where are they? Pray show them to me." + +"There is one a few yards off. Shall we enter? You are not afraid?" +she said with a smile of challenge. + +"By no means--unless you command me to be afraid," Kallash replied in +the same tone. "Let us enter at once!" + +"Kasimir, turn under the arch!" and the boat cut across the canal +toward a half circle of darkness. A moment more and the darkness +engulfed them completely. They were somewhere under the Admiralty, not +far from St. Isaac's Cathedral. Away ahead of them was a tiny half +circle of light, where the canal joined the swiftly flowing Neva. +Carriages rumbled like distant thunder above their heads. + +"Deuce take it! it is really rather fine!" cried the count, with +evident pleasure. "A meeting of pirates is all we need to make it +perfect. It is a pity that we cannot see where we are!" + +"Light a match. Have you any?" said the baroness. + +"I have, and wax matches, too." The count took out a match and lit it, +and the underground stream was lit by a faint ruddy glow. The channel, +covered by a semi-circular arch, was just wide enough for one boat to +pass through, with oars out. The black water flowed silently by in a +sluggish, Stygian stream. Bats, startled by the light, fluttered in +their faces, and then disappeared in the darkness. + +As the boat glided on, the match burned out in Count Kallash's +fingers. He threw it into the water, and opened his matchbox to take +another. + +At the same moment he felt a sharp blow on the head, followed by a +second, and he sank senseless in the bottom of the boat. + +"Where is the money?" cried Bodlevski, who had struck him with the +handle of the oar. "Get his coat open!" and the baroness deftly drew +the thick packet from the breast pocket of his coat. "Here it is! I +have it!" she replied quickly. + +"Now, overboard with him! Keep the body steady!" A dull splash, and +then silence. "To-night we shall sleep secure!" + +They counted without their host. Princess Anna had also her scheme of +vengeance, and had worked it out, without a word to her brother. When +Natasha and Bodlevski entered their apartment, they found the police +in possession, and a few minutes later both were under arrest. +Abundant evidence of fraud and forgery was found in their dwelling, +and the vast Siberian solitudes avenged the death of their last +victim. + + + +JÖRGEN WILHELM BERGSÖE + + +_THE AMPUTATED ARMS_ + + +It happened when I was about eighteen or nineteen years old (began Dr. +Simsen). I was studying at the University, and being coached in +anatomy by my old friend Sölling. He was an amusing fellow, this +Sölling. Full of jokes and whimsical ideas, and equally merry, whether +he was working at the dissecting table or brewing a punch for a jovial +crowd. + +He had but one fault--if one might call it so--and that was his +exaggerated idea of punctuality. He grumbled if you were late two +minutes; any longer delay would spoil the entire evening for him. He +himself was never known to be late. At least not during the entire +years of my studying. + +One Wednesday evening our little circle of friends met as usual in my +room at seven o'clock. I had made the customary preparations for the +meeting, had borrowed three chairs--I had but one myself--had cleaned +all my pipes, and had persuaded Hans to take the breakfast dishes from +the sofa and carry them downstairs. One by one my friends arrived, the +clock struck seven, and to our great astonishment, Sölling had not yet +appeared. One, two, even five minutes passed before we heard him run +upstairs and knock at the door with his characteristic short blows. + +When he entered the room he looked so angry and at the same time so +upset that I cried out: "What's the matter, Sölling? You look as if +you had been robbed." + +"That's exactly what has happened," replied Sölling angrily. "But it +was no ordinary sneak thief," he added, hanging his overcoat behind +the door. + +"What have you lost?" asked my neighbor Nansen. + +"Both arms from the new skeleton I've just recently received from the +hospital," said Sölling with an expression as if his last cent had +been taken from him. "It's vandalism!" + +We burst out into loud laughter at this remarkable answer, but Sölling +continued: "Can you imagine it? Both arms are gone, cut off at the +shoulder joint;--and the strangest part of it is that the same thing +has been done to my shabby old skeleton which stands in my bedroom, +There wasn't an arm on either of them." + +"That's too bad," I remarked. "For we were just going to study the +_anatomy_ of the arm to-night." + +"Osteology," corrected Sölling gravely. "Get out your skeleton, little +Simsen. It isn't as good as mine, but it will do for this +evening." + +I went to the corner where my anatomical treasures were hidden behind +a green curtain--"the Museum," was what Sölling called it--but my +astonishment was great when I found my skeleton in its accustomed +place and wearing as usual my student's uniform--but without arms. + +"The devil!" cried Sölling. "That was done by the same person who +robbed me; the arms are taken off at the shoulder joint in exactly the +same manner. You did it, Simsen!" + +I declared my innocence, very angry at the abuse of my fine skeleton, +while Nansen cried: "Wait a moment, I'll bring in mine. There hasn't +been a soul in my room since this morning, I can swear to that. I'll +be back in an instant." + +He hurried into his room, but returned in a few moments greatly +depressed and somewhat ashamed. The skeleton was in its usual place, +but the arms were gone, cut off at the shoulder in exactly the same +manner as mine. + +The affair, mysterious in itself, had now come to be a serious matter. +We lost ourselves in suggestions and explanations, none of which +seemed to throw any light on the subject. Finally we sent a messenger +to the other side of the house where, as I happened to know, was a new +skeleton which the young student Ravn had recently received from the +janitor of the hospital. + +Ravn had gone out and taken the key with him. The messenger whom we +had sent to the rooms of the Iceland students returned with the +information that one of them had used the only skeleton they possessed +to pummel the other with, and that consequently only the thigh bones +were left unbroken. + +What were we to do? We couldn't understand the matter at all. Sölling +scolded and cursed and the company was about to break up when we heard +some one coming noisily upstairs. The door was thrown open and a tall, +thin figure appeared on the threshold--our good friend Niels Daae. + +He was a strange chap, this Niels Daae, the true type of a species +seldom found nowadays. He was no longer young, and by reason of a +queer chain of circumstances, as he expressed it, he had been through +nearly all the professions and could produce papers proving that he +had been on the point of passing not one but three examinations. + +He had begun with theology; but the story of the quarrel between Jacob +and Esau had led him to take up the study of law. As a law student he +had come across an interesting poisoning case, which had proved to him +that a study of medicine was extremely necessary for lawyers; and he +had taken up the study of medicine with such energy that he had +forgotten all his law and was about to take his last examinations at +the age of forty. + +Niels Daae took the story of our troubles very seriously. "Every pot +has two handles," he began. "Every sausage two ends, every question +two sides, except this one--this has three." (Applause.) "When we look +at it from the legal point of view there can be no doubt that it +belongs in the category of ordinary theft. But from the fact that the +thief took only the arms when he might have taken the entire skeleton, +we must conclude that he is not in a responsible condition of mind, +which therefore introduces a medical side to the affair. From a legal +point of view, the thief must be convicted for robbery, or at least +for the illegal appropriation of the property of others; but from the +medical point of view, we must acquit him, because he is not +responsible for his acts. Here we have two professions quarreling with +one another, and who shall say which is right? But now I will +introduce the theological point of view, and raise the entire affair +up to a higher plane. Providence, in the material shape of a patron of +mine in the country, whose children I have inoculated with the juice +of wisdom, has sent me two fat geese and two first-class ducks. These +animals are to be cooked and eaten this evening in Mathiesen's +establishment, and I invite this honored company to join me there. +Personally I look upon the disappearance of these arms as an all-wise +intervention of Providence, which sets its own inscrutable wisdom up +against the wisdom which we would otherwise have heard from the lips +of my venerable friend Sölling." + +Daae's confused speech was received with laughter and applause, and +Sölling's weak protests were lost in the general delight at the +invitation. I have often noticed that such improvised festivities are +usually the most enjoyable, and so it was for us that evening. Niels +Daae treated us to his ducks and to his most amusing jokes, Sölling +sang his best songs, our jovial host Mathiesen told his wittiest +stories, and the merriment was in full swing when we heard cries in +the street, and then a rush of confused noises broken by screams of +pain. + +"There's been an accident," cried Sölling, running out to the door. + +We all followed him and discovered that a pair of run-away horses had +thrown a carriage against a tree, hurling the driver from his box, +under the wheels. His right arm had been broken near the shoulder. In +the twinkling of an eye the hall of festivities was transformed into +an emergency hospital. Sölling shook his head as he examined the +injury, and ordered the transport of the patient to the city hospital. +It was his belief that the arm would have to be amputated, cut off at +the shoulder joint, just as had been the case with our skeleton. +"Damned odd coincidence, isn't it?" he remarked to me. + +Our merry mood had vanished and we took our way, quiet and depressed, +through the old avenues toward our home. For the first time in its +existence possibly, our venerable "barracks," as we called the +dormitory, saw its occupants returning home from an evening's bout +just as the night watchman intoned his eleven o'clock verse. + +"Just eleven," exclaimed Sölling. "It's too early to go to bed, and +too late to go anywhere else. We'll go up to your room, little Simsen, +and see if we can't have some sort of a lesson this evening. You have +your colored plates and we'll try to get along with them. It's a +nuisance that we should have lost those arms just this evening." + +"The Doctor can have all the arms and legs he wants," grinned Hans, +who came out of the doorway just in time to hear Sölling's last word. + +"What do you mean, Hans?" asked Sölling in astonishment. + +"It'll be easy enough to get them," said Hans. "They've torn down the +planking around the Holy Trinity churchyard, and dug up the earth to +build a new wall. I saw it myself, as I came past the church. Lord, +what a lot of bones they've dug out there! There's arms and legs and +heads, many more than the Doctor could possibly need." + +"Much good that does us," answered Sölling. "They shut the gates at +seven o'clock and it's after eleven already." + +"Oh, yes, they shut them," grinned Hans again. "But there's another +way to get in. If you go through the gate of the porcelain factory and +over the courtyard, and through the mill in the fourth courtyard that +leads out into Spring Street, there you will see where the planking is +torn down and you can get into the churchyard easily." + +"Hans, you're a genius!" exclaimed Sölling in delight. "Here, Simsen, +you know that factory inside and out, you're so friendly with that +fellow Outzen who lives there. Run along to him and let him give you +the key of the mill. It will be easy to find an arm that isn't too +much decayed. Hurry along, now; the rest of us will wait for you +upstairs." + +To be quite candid I must confess that I was not particularly eager to +fulfill Sölling's command. I was at an age to have still a sufficient +amount of reverence for death and the grave, and the mysterious +occurrence of the stolen arms still ran through my mind. But I was +still more afraid of Sölling's irony and of the laughter of my +comrades, so I trotted off as carelessly as if I had been sent to buy +a package of cigarettes. + +It was some time before I could arouse the old janitor of the factory +from his peaceful slumbers. I told him that I had an important message +from Outzen, and hurried upstairs to the latter's room. Outzen was a +strictly moral character; knowing this, I was prepared to have him +refuse me the key which would let me into the fourth courtyard and +from there into the cemetery. As I expected, Outzen took the matter +very seriously. He closed the Hebrew Bible which he had been studying +as I entered, turned up his lamp and looked at me in astonishment as I +made my request. + +"Why, my dear Simsen, it is a most sinful deed that you are about to +do," he said gravely. "Take my advice and desist. You will get no key +from me for any such cause. The peace of the grave is sacred. No man +dare disturb it." + +"And how about the gravedigger? He puts the newly dead down beside the +old corpses, and lives as peacefully as anyone else." + +"He is doing his duty," answered Outzen calmly. "But to disturb the +peace of the grave from sheer daring, with the fumes of the punch +still in your head,--that is a different matter,--that will surely be +punished!" + +His words irritated me. It is not very flattering, particularly if one +is not yet twenty, to be told that you are about to perform a daring +deed simply because you are drunk. Without any further reply to his +protests I took the key from its place on the wall and ran downstairs +two steps at a time, vowing to myself that I would take home an arm +let cost what it would. I would show Outzen, and Sölling, and all the +rest, what a devil of a fellow I was. + +My heart beat rapidly as I stole through the long dark corridor, past +the ruins of the old convent of St. Clara, into the so-called third +courtyard. Here I took a lantern from the hall, lit it and crossed to +the mill where the clay was prepared for the factory. The tall wheels +and cylinders, with their straps and bolts, looked like weird +creatures of the night in the dim light of my tallow candle. I felt my +courage sinking even here, but I pulled myself together, opened the +last door with my key and stepped out into the fourth courtyard. A +moment later I stood on the dividing line between the cemetery and the +factory. + +The entire length of the tall blackened planking had been torn down. +The pieces of it lay about, and the earth had been dug up to +considerable depth, to make a foundation for a new wall between Life +and Death. The uncanny emptiness of the place seized upon me. I halted +involuntarily as if to harden myself against it. It was a raw, cold, +stormy evening. The clouds flew past the moon in jagged fragments, so +that the churchyard, with its white crosses and stones, lay now in +full light, now in dim shadow. Now and then a rush of wind rattled +over the graves, roared through the leafless trees, bent the +complaining bushes, and caught itself in the little eddy at the corner +of the church, only to escape again over the roofs, turning the old +weather vane with a sharp scream of the rusty iron. + +I looked toward the left--there I saw several weird white shapes +moving gently in the moonlight. "White sheets," I said to myself, +"it's nothing but white sheets! This drying of linen in the churchyard +ought to be stopped." + +I turned in the opposite direction and saw a heap of bones scarce two +paces distant from me. Holding my lantern lower, I approached them and +stretched out my hand--there was a rattling in the heap; something +warm and soft touched my fingers. + +I started and shivered. Then I exclaimed: "The rats! nothing but the +rats in the churchyard! I must not get frightened. It will be so +foolish--they would laugh at me. Where the devil is that arm? I can't +find one that isn't broken!" + +With trembling knees and in feverish haste I examined one heap after +another. The light in my lantern flickered in the wind and suddenly +went out. The foul smell of the smoking wick rose to my face and I +felt as if I were about to faint. It took all my energy to recover my +control. I walked two or three steps ahead, and saw at a little +distance a coffin which had been still in good shape when taken out of +the earth. + +I approached it and saw that it was of old-fashioned shape, made of +heavy oaken boards that were already rotting. On its cover was a metal +plate with an illegible inscription. The old wood was so brittle that +it would have been very easy for me to open the coffin with any sort +of a tool. I looked about me and saw a hatchet and a couple of spades +lying near the fence. I took one of the latter, put its flat end +between the boards--the old coffin fell apart with a dull crackling +protest. + +I turned my head aside, put my hand in through the opening, felt +about, and taking a firm hold on one arm of the skeleton, I loosened +it from the body with a quick jerk. The movement loosened the head as +well, and it rolled out through the opening right to my very feet. I +took up the skull to lay it in the coffin again--and then I saw a +greenish phosphorescent glimmer in its empty eye sockets, a glimmer +which came and went. Mad terror shook me at the sight. I looked up at +the houses in the distance, then back again to the skull; the empty +sockets shone more brightly than before. I felt that I must have some +natural explanation for this appearance or I would go mad. I took up +the head again--and never in my life have I had so overpowering an +impression of the might of death and decay than in this moment. +Myriads of disgusting clammy insects poured out of every opening of +the skull, and a couple of shining, wormlike centipedes--_Geophiles_, +the scientists call them--crawled about in the eye sockets. I threw +the skull back into the coffin, sprang over the heaps of bones without +even taking time to pick up my lantern, and ran like a hunted thing +through the dark mill, over the factory courtyards, until I reached +the outer gate. Here I washed the arm at the fountain, and smoothed my +disarranged clothing. I hid my booty under my overcoat, nodded to the +sleepy old janitor as he opened the door to me, and a few moments +later I entered my own room with an expression which I had attempted +to make quite calm and careless. + +"What the devil is the matter with you, Simsen?" cried Sölling as he +saw me. "Have you seen a ghost? Or is the punch wearing off already? +We thought you'd never come; why, it's nearly twelve o'clock!" + +Without a word I drew back my overcoat and laid my booty on the table. + +"By all the devils," exclaimed Sölling in anatomical enthusiasm, +"where did you find that superb arm? Simsen knows what he's about all +right. It's a girl's arm; isn't it beautiful? Just look at the +hand--how fine and delicate it is! Must have worn a No. 6 glove. +There's a pretty hand to caress and kiss!" + +The arm passed from one to the other amid general admiration. Every +word that was said increased my disgust for myself and for what I had +done. It was a woman's arm, then--what sort of a woman might she have +been? Young and beautiful possibly--her brothers' pride, her parents' +joy. She had faded away in her youth, cared for by loving hands and +tender thoughts. She had fallen asleep gently, and those who loved her +had desired to give her in death the peace she had enjoyed throughout +her lifetime. For this they had made her coffin of thick, heavy oaken +boards. And this hand, loved and missed by so many--it lay there now +on an anatomical table, encircled by clouds of tobacco smoke, stared +at by curious glances, and made the object of coarse jokes. O God! how +terrible it was! + +"I must have that arm," exclaimed Sölling, when the first burst of +admiration had passed. "When I bleach it and touch it up with varnish, +it will be a superb specimen. I'll take it home with me." + +"No," I exclaimed, "I can't permit it. It was wrong of me to bring it +away from the churchyard. I'm going right back to put the arm in its +place." + +"Well, will you listen to that?" cried Sölling, amid the hearty +laughter of the others. "Simsen's so lyric, he certainly must be +drunk. I must have that arm at any cost." + +"Not much," cut in Niels Daae; "you have no right to it. It was buried +in the earth and dug out again; it is a find, and all the rest of us +have just as much right to it as you have." + +"Yes, every one of us has some share in it," said some one else. + +"But what are you going to do about it?" remarked Sölling. "It would +be vandalism to break up that arm. What God has joined together let no +man put asunder," he concluded with pathos. + +"Let's auction it off," exclaimed Daae. "I will be the auctioneer, and +this key to the graveyard will serve me for a hammer." + +The laughter broke out anew as Daae took his place solemnly at the +head of the table and began to whine out the following announcement: +"I hereby notify all present that on the 25th of November, at twelve +o'clock at midnight, in corridor No. 5 of the student barracks, a +lady's arm in excellent condition, with all its appurtenances of wrist +bones, joints, and finger tips, is to be offered at public auction. +The buyer can have possession of his purchase immediately after the +auction, and a credit of six weeks will be given to any reliable +customer. I bid a Danish shilling." + +"One mark," cried Sölling mockingly. + +"Two," cried somebody else. + +"Four," exclaimed Sölling. "It's worth it. Why don't you join in, +Simsen? You look as if you were sitting in a hornet's nest." + +I bid one mark more, and Sölling raised me a thaler. There were no +more bids, the hammer fell, and the arm belonged to Sölling. + +"Here, take this," he said, handing me a mark piece; "it's part of +your commission as grave robber. You shall have the rest later, unless +you prefer that I should turn it over to the drinking fund." With +these words Sölling wrapped the arm in a newspaper, and the gay crowd +ran noisily down the stairs and through the streets, until their +singing and laughter were lost in the distance. + +I stood alone, still dazed and bewildered, staring at the piece of +money in my hand. My thoughts were far too much excited that I should +hope to sleep. I turned up my lamp and took out one of my books to try +and study myself into a quieter mood. But without success. + +Suddenly I heard a sound like that of a swinging pendulum. I raised my +head and listened attentively. There was no clock either in my room or +in the neighboring ones--but I could still hear the sound. At the same +moment my lamp began to flicker. The oil was apparently exhausted. I +was about to rise to fill it again, when my eyes fell upon the door, +and I saw the graveyard key, which I had hung there, moving slowly +back and forth with a rhythmic swing. Just as its motion seemed about +to die away, it would receive a gentle push as from an unseen hand, +and would swing back and forth more than ever. I stood there with open +mouth and staring eyes, ice-cold chills ran down my back, and drops of +perspiration stood out on my forehead. Finally, I could endure it no +longer. I sprang to the door, seized the key with both hands and put +it on my desk under a pile of heavy books. Then I breathed a sigh of +relief. + +My lamp was about to go out and I discovered that I had no more oil. +With feverish haste I threw my clothes off, blew out the light and +sprang into bed as if to smother my fears. + +But once alone in the darkness the fears grew worse than ever. They +grew into dreams and visions. It seemed to me as if I were out in the +graveyard again, and heard the screaming of the rusty weather vane as +the wind turned it. Then I was in the mill again; the wheels were +turning and stretching out ghostly hands to draw me into the yawning +maw of the machine. Then again, I found myself in a long, low, +pitch-black corridor, followed by Something I could not see--Something +that drove me to the mouth of a bottomless abyss. I would start up out +of my half sleep, listen and look about me, then fall back again into +an uneasy slumber. + +Suddenly something fell from the ceiling onto the bed, and +"buzz--buzz--buzz" sounded about my head. It was a huge fly which had +been sleeping in a corner of my room and had been roused by the heat +of the stove. It flew about in great circles, now around the bed, now +in all four corners of the chamber--"buzz--buzz--buzz"--it was +unendurable! At last I heard it creep into a bag of sugar which had +been left on the window sill. I sprang up and closed the bag tight. +The fly buzzed worse than ever, but I went back to bed and attempted +to sleep again, feeling that I had conquered the enemy. + +I began to count: I counted slowly to one hundred, two hundred, +finally up to one thousand, and then at last I experienced that +pleasant weakness which is the forerunner of true sleep. I seemed to +be in a beautiful garden, bright with many flowers and odorous with +all the perfumes of spring. At my side walked a beautiful young girl. +I seemed to know her well, and yet it was not possible for me to +remember her name, or even to know how we came to be wandering there +together. As we walked slowly through the paths she would stop to pick +a flower or to admire a brilliant butterfly swaying in the air. +Suddenly a cold wind blew through the garden. The young girl trembled +and her cheeks grew pale. "I am cold," she said to me, "do you not +see? It is Death who is approaching us." + +I would have answered, but in the same moment another stronger and +still more icy gust roared through the garden. The leaves turned pale +on the trees, the flowerets bent their heads, and the bees and +butterflies fell lifeless to the earth. "That is Death," whispered my +companion, trembling. + +A third icy gust blew the last leaves from the bushes, white crosses +and gravestones appeared between the bare twigs--and I was in the +churchyard again and heard the screaming of the rusty weather vane. +Beside me stood a heavy brass-bound coffin with a metal plate on the +cover. I bent down to read the inscription, the cover rolled off +suddenly, and from out the coffin rose the form of the young girl who +had been with me in the garden. I stretched out my arms to clasp her +to my breast--then, oh horror! I saw the greenish-gleaming, empty eye +sockets of the skull. I felt bony arms around me, dragging me back +into the coffin. I screamed aloud for help and woke up. + +My room seemed unusually light; but I remembered that it was a +moonlight night and thought no more of it. I tried to explain the +visions of my dream with various natural noises about me. The +imprisoned fly buzzed as loudly as a whole swarm of bees; one half of +my window had blown open, and the cold night air rushed in gusts into +my room. + +I sprang up to close the window, and then I saw that the strong white +light that filled my room did not come from the moon, but seemed to +shine out from the church opposite. I heard the chiming of the bells, +soft at first, as if in far distance, then stronger and stronger +until, mingled with the rolling notes of the organ, a mighty rush of +sound struck against my windows. I stared out into the street and +could scarcely believe my eyes. The houses in the market place just +beyond were all little one-story buildings with bow windows and wooden +eave troughs ending in carved dragon heads. Most of them had balconies +of carved woodwork, and high stone stoops with gleaming brass rails. + +But it was the church most of all that aroused my astonishment. Its +position was completely changed. Its front turned toward our house +where usually the side had stood. The church was brilliantly lighted, +and now I perceived that it was this light which filled my room. I +stood speechless amid the chiming of the bells and the roaring of the +organ, and I saw a long wedding procession moving slowly up the center +aisle of the church toward the altar. The light was so brilliant that +I could distinguish each one of the figures. They were all in strange +old-time costumes; the ladies in brocades and satins with strings of +pearls in their powdered hair, the gentlemen in uniform with knee +breeches, swords, and cocked hats held under their arms. But it was +the bride who drew my attention most strongly. She was clothed in +white satin, and a faded myrtle wreath was twisted through the +powdered locks beneath her sweeping veil. The bridegroom at her side +wore a red uniform and many decorations. Slowly they approached the +altar, where an old man in black vestments and a heavy white wig was +awaiting them. They stood before him, and I could see that he was +reading the ritual from a gold-lettered book. + +One of the train stepped forward and unbuckled the bridegroom's sword, +that his right hand might be free to take that of the bride. She +seemed about to raise her own hand to his, when she suddenly sank +fainting at his feet. The guests hurried toward the altar, the lights +went out, the music stopped, and the figures floated together like +pale white mists. + +But outside in the square it was still brighter than before, and I +suddenly saw the side portal of the church burst open and the wedding +procession move out across the market place. + +I turned as if to flee, but could not move a muscle. Quiet, as if +turned to stone, I stood and watched the ghostly figures that came +nearer and nearer. The clergyman led the train, then came the +bridegroom and the bride, and as the latter raised her eyes to me I +saw that it was the young girl of the garden. Her eyes were so full of +pain, so full of sad entreaty that I could scarce endure them; but how +shall I explain the feeling that shot through me as I suddenly +discovered that the right sleeve of her white satin gown hung empty at +her side? The train disappeared, and the tone of the church bells +changed to a strange, dry, creaking sound, and the gate below me +complained as it turned on its rusty hinges. I faced toward my own +door. I knew that it was shut and locked, but I knew that the ghostly +procession were coming to call me to account, and I felt that no walls +could keep them out. My door flew open, there was a rustling as of +silken gowns, but the figures seemed to float in in the changing forms +of swaying white mists. Closer and closer they gathered around me, +robbing me of breath, robbing me of the power to move. There was a +silence as of the grave--and then I saw before me the old priest with +his gold-lettered book. He raised his hand and spoke with a soft, deep +voice: "The grave is sacred! Let no one dare to disturb the peace of +the dead." + +"The grave is sacred!" an echo rolled through the room as the swaying +figures moved like reeds in the wind. + +"What do you want? What do you demand?" I gasped in the grip of a +deathly fear. + +"Give back to the grave that which belongs to it," said the deep voice +again. + +"Give back to the grave that which belongs to it," repeated the echo +as the swaying forms pressed closer to me. + +"But it's impossible--I can't--I have sold it--sold it at auction!" I +screamed in despair. "It was buried and found in the earth--and sold +for five marks eight shillings----" + +A hideous scream came from the ghostly ranks. They threw themselves +upon me as the white fog rolls in from the sea, they pressed upon me +until I could no longer breathe. Beside myself, I threw open the window +and attempted to spring out, screaming aloud: "Help! help! murder! +they are murdering me!" + +The sound of my own voice awoke me. I found myself in my night clothes +on the window sill, one leg already out of the window and both hands +clutching at the center post. On the street below me stood the night +watchman, staring up at me in astonishment, while faint white clouds +of mist rolled out of my window like smoke. All around outside lay the +November fog, gray and moist, and as the fresh air of the early dawn +blew cool on my face I felt my senses returning to me. I looked down +at the night watchman--God bless him! He was a big, strong, +comfortably fat fellow made of real flesh and blood, and no ghost +shape of the night. I looked at the round tower of the church--how +massive and venerable it stood there, gray in the gray of the morning +mists. I looked over at the market place. There was a light in the +baker shop and a farmer stood before it, tying his horse to a post. +Back in my own room everything was in its usual place. Even the little +paper bag with the sugar lay there on the window sill, and the +imprisoned fly buzzed louder than ever. I knew that I was really awake +and that the day was coming. I sprang back hastily from the window and +was about to jump into bed, when my foot touched something hard and +sharp. + +I stooped to see what it was, felt about on the floor in the half +light, and touched a long, dry, skeleton arm which held a tiny roll of +paper in its bony fingers. I felt about again, and found still another +arm, also holding a roll of paper. Then I began to think that my +reason must be going. What I had seen thus far was only an unusually +vivid dream--a vision of my heated imagination. But I knew that I was +awake now, and yet here lay two--no, three (for there was still +another arm)--hard, undeniable, material proofs that what I had +thought was hallucination, might have been reality. Trembling in the +thought that madness was threatening me, I tore open the first roll of +paper. On it was written the name: "Sölling." I caught at the second +and opened it. There stood the word: "Nansen." + +I had just strength enough left to catch the third paper and open +it--there was my own name: "Simsen." + +Then I sank fainting to the floor. + +When I came to myself again, Niels Daae stood beside me with an empty +water bottle, the contents of which were dripping off my person and +off the sofa upon which I was lying. "Here, drink this," he said in a +soothing tone. "It will make you feel better." + +I looked about me wildly, as I sipped at the glass of brandy which put +new life into me once more. "What has happened?" I asked weakly. + +"Oh, nothing of importance," answered Niels. "You were just about to +commit suicide by means of charcoal gas. Those are mighty bad +ventilators on your old stove there. The wind must have blown them +shut, unless you were fool enough to close them yourself before you +went to bed. If you had not opened the window, you would have already +been too far along the path to Paradise to be called back by a glass +of brandy. Take another." + +"How did you get up here?" I asked, sitting upright on the sofa. + +"Through the door in the usual simple manner," answered Niels Daae. "I +was on watch last night in the hospital; but Mathiesen's punch is +heavy and my watching was more like sleeping, so I thought it better +to come away in the early morning. As I passed your barracks here, I +saw you sitting in the window in your nightshirt and calling down to +the night watchman that some one was murdering you. I managed to wake +up Jansen down below you, and got into the house through his window. +Do you usually sleep on the bare floor?" + +"But where did the arms come from?" I asked, still half bewildered. + +"Oh, the devil take those arms," cried Niels. "Just see if you can +stand up all right now. Oh, those arms there? Why, those are the arms +I cut off your skeletons. Clever idea, wasn't it? You know how grumpy +Sölling gets if anything interferes with his tutoring. You see, I'd +had the geese sent me, and I wanted you to all come with me to +Mathiesen's place. I knew you were going to read the osteology of the +arm, so I went up into Sölling's room, opened it with his own keys and +took the arms from his skeleton. I did the same here while you were +downstairs in the reading room. Have you been stupid enough to take +them down off their frames, and take away their tickets? I had marked +them so carefully, that each man should get his own again." + +I dressed hastily and went out with Niels into the fresh, cool morning +air. A few minutes later we separated, and I turned toward the street +where Sölling lived. Without heeding the protest of his old landlady, +I entered the room where he still slept the sleep of the just. The +arm, still wrapped in newspaper, lay on his desk. I took it up, put +the mark piece in its place and hastened with all speed to the +churchyard. + +How different it looked in the early dawn! The fog had risen and +shining frost pearls hung in the bare twigs of the tall trees where +the sparrows were already twittering their morning song. There was no +one to be seen. The churchyard lay quiet and peaceful. I stepped over +the heaps of bones to where the heavy oaken coffin lay under a tree. +Cautiously I pushed the arm back into its interior, and hammered the +rusty nails into their places again, just as the first rays of the +pale November sun touched a gleam of light from the metal plate on the +cover.--Then the weight was lifted from my soul. + + + +OTTO LARSSEN + + +_THE MANUSCRIPT_ + + +Two gentlemen sat chatting together one evening. + +Their daily business was to occupy themselves with literature. At the +present moment they were engaged in drinking whisky,--an occupation +both agreeable and useful,--and in chatting about books, the theater, +women and many other things. Finally they came around to that +inexhaustible subject for conversation, the mysterious life of the +soul, the hidden things, the Unknown, that theme for which Shakespeare +has given us an oft-quoted and oft-abused device, which one of them, +Mr. X., now used to point his remarks. Raising his glass, he looked at +himself meditatively in a mirror opposite, and, in a good imitation of +the manner of his favourite actor, he quoted: + + "There are more things in heaven and earth than are + dreamt of in thy philosophy, Horatio." + +Mr. Y. arranged a fresh glass for himself, and answered: + +"I believe it. I believe also that it is given but to a few chosen +ones to see these things. It never fell to my lot, I know. Fortunately +for me, perhaps. For,--at least so it appears to me,--these chosen +ones appear on closer investigation to be individuals of an abnormal +condition of brain. As far as I personally am concerned, I know of +nothing more strange than the usual logical and natural sequence of +events on our globe. I confess things do sometimes happen outside of +this orderly sequence; but for the cold-blooded and thoughtful person +the Strange, the apparently Inexplicable, usually turns out to be a +sum of Chance, that Chance we will never be quite clever enough to +fully take into our calculations. + +"As an instance I would like to tell you the story of what happened +several years back to a friend of mine, a young French writer. He had +a good, sincere mind, but he had also a strong leaning toward +mysticism,--something which was just then in danger of becoming as +much of a fashion in France as it is here now. The event of which I am +about to tell you threw him into what was almost a delirium, which +came near to robbing him of his normal intelligence, and therefore +came near to robbing French readers of a few excellent books. + +"This was the way it happened: + +"It was about ten years back, and I was spending the spring and summer +in Paris. I had a room with the family of a _concierge_ on the left +bank, rue de Vaugirard, near the Luxembourg Gardens. + +"A few steps from my modest domicile lived my friend Lucien F. We had +become acquainted through a chain of circumstances which do not belong +to this story, but these circumstances had made firm friends of us, a +friendship which was a source of great pleasure and also of assistance +to me in my study of Paris conditions. This friendship also enabled me +to enjoy better and cheaper whisky than one can usually meet with in +the city by the Seine, a real good 'Jameson Highland.' + +"Lucien F. had already published several books which had aroused +attention through the oddity of their themes, and their gratifying +success had made it possible for him to establish himself in a +comfortably furnished bachelor apartment on the corner of the rue de +Vaugirard and the rue de Condé. + +"The apartment had a corridor and three rooms; a dining room, a +bedroom, and a charming study with an inclosed balcony, the three +windows of which,--a large one in the center and two smaller ones at +the side,--sent a flood of light in over the great writing table which +filled nearly the entire balcony. Inside the room, near the balcony, +stood a divan covered with a bearskin rug. Upon this divan I spent +many of my hours in Paris, occupied in the smoking of my friend's +excellent cigars, and the sampling of his superlatively good whisky. +At the same time I could lie staring up at the tops of the trees in +the Luxembourg Gardens, while Lucien worked at his desk. For, unlike +most writers, he could work best when he was not alone. + +"If I remained away several days, he would invariably ring my bell +early some morning, and drag me out of bed with the remark: 'The +whisky is ready. I can't write if you are not there.' + +"During the particular days of which I shall tell you, he was engaged +in the writing of a fantastic novelette, 'The Force of the Wind,' a +work which interested him greatly, and which he would interrupt +unwillingly at intervals to furnish copy for the well-known newspaper +that numbered him among the members of its staff. His books were +printed by the same house that did the printing for the paper. + +"Often, as I lay in my favorite position on the divan, the bell would +ring and we would be honored by a visit from the printer's boy +Adolphe, a little fellow in a blue blouse, the true type of Paris +gamin. Adolphe rejoiced in a broken nose, a pair of crafty eyes, and +had his fists always full of manuscripts which he treated with a +carelessness that would have driven a literary novice to despair. The +long rolls of yellow paper would hang out of his trousers pockets as +if ready to fall apart at his next movement. And the disrespectful +manner in which he crammed my friend Lucien's scarcely dried essay +into the breast of his blouse would have certainly called forth +remarks from a journalist of more self-conceit. + +"But his eyes were so full of sly cunning, and there was such an +atmosphere of Paris about the stocky little fourteen-year-old chap, +that we would often keep him longer with us, and treat him to a glass +of anisette to hear his opinion of the writers whose work he handled. +He was an amusing cross between a tricky little Paris gamin and a real +child, and he hit off the characteristics of the various writers with +as keen a touch of actuality as he could put into his stories of how +many centimes he had won that morning at 'craps' from his friend +Pierre. Pierre was another employee of the printing house, Adolphe's +comrade in his study of the mysteries of Paris streets, and now his +rival. They were both in love with the same girl, the fifteen-year-old +daughter of the keeper of 'La Prunelle' Café, and her favor was often +the prize of the morning's game. + +"Now and then this rivalry between the two young Parisians would drop +into a hand-to-hand fight. I myself was witness to such a skirmish one +day, in front of 'La Prunelle.' The rivals pulled each other's hair +mightily while the manuscripts flew about over the pavement, and +Virginie, in her short skirts, stood at the door of the café and +laughed until she seemed about to shake to pieces. + +"Pierre was the strongest, and Adolphe came off with a bloody nose. He +gathered up his manuscripts in grim silence and left the battlefield +and the still laughing Virginie with an expression of deep anger on +his wounded face. + +"The following day, when I teased him a little because of his defeat, +he smiled a sly smile and remarked: + +"'Yes, but I won a franc from him, the big stupid animal. And so it +was I, after all, who took Virginie out that evening. We went to the +Café "Néant," where I let them put me in the coffin and pretend to be +decaying, to amuse her. She thought it was lots of fun.' + +"One morning Lucien had come for me as usual, put me on the divan, and +seated himself at his writing table. He was just putting the last +words to his novel, and the table was entirely covered with the +scattered leaves, closely written. I could just see his neck as he sat +there, a thin-sinewed, expressive neck. He bent over his work, blind +and deaf for anything else. I lay there and gazed out over the tops of +the trees in the park up into the blue summer sky. The window on the +left side of the desk stood wide open, for it was a warm and sultry +day. I sipped my whisky slowly. The air was heavy, and thunder +threatened in the distance. After a little while the clouds gathered +together, heavy, low-hanging, copper-hued, real thunder clouds, and +the trees in the park rustled softly. The air was stifling, and lay +heavy as lead on my breast. + +"'Lucien!' + +"Lucien did not hear or see anything, his pen flew over the paper. + +"I fell back lazily on my divan. + +"Then suddenly, there was a mighty tumult. A strong gust of wind swept +through the street, bending the trees in the gardens quite out of my +horizon. With a crash the right-hand window in the balcony flew wide +open, and like a cyclone, the wind swept through, clearing the table +in an instant of all the loose sheets of paper that had lain scattered +about it. + +"'The devil! Why don't you shut the window!' I cried, springing up +from the sofa. + +"'Spare your energy, it's too late,' said Lucien with a gentle mockery +in his soft voice. 'Look there!'--he pointed out into the street, +where his sheets of paper went swirling about in the heavy air like +white doves. + +"A second later came the rain, a veritable cloud-burst. We shut the +windows and gave ourselves up to melancholy thoughts about the lost +manuscript, the recovery of which now seemed utterly hopeless. + +"'That's one thousand francs, at least, that the wind has robbed me +of,' sighed Lucien. 'Well, _elfin_, that doesn't matter so much. But +do you know anything more tiresome than to work over the same subject +a second time? I can't think of doing it. It would fairly make me sick +to try it.' + +"We were in a sad mood that morning. When we went out to breakfast at +about two o'clock, we looked about for some traces of the lost +manuscript. + +"There was nothing to be seen. It had vanished completely, whirled off +to all four corners of the earth probably, this manuscript from which +Lucien had expected so much. Truly it was 'The Force of the Wind.'" + + * * * * * + +"Now comes the strange part of the story. One morning, two weeks +later, Lucien stood in the door of my little room, pale as a ghost. He +had a bundle of printer's proofs in his hand, and held them out to me +without a word. + +"I looked at it and read: + +"'"The Force of the Wind," by Lucien F.' + +"It was a good bundle of proofs, the entire first proofs of Lucien's +novel, that novel the manuscript of which we had seen blown out of the +balcony window and whirled away by the winds. + +"'My dear man,' I exclaimed, as I handed him back the proofs. 'You +_have_ been industrious indeed, to write your entire novel over again +in so short a time--and to have proofs already----' + +"Lucien did not answer. He stood silent, staring at me with a weird +look in his otherwise so sensible eyes. After a moment he stammered: + +"'I did not write the novel over again. I have not touched a pen since +the day the manuscript blew out of the window.' + +"'Are you a sleep-walker, Lucien?' + +"'Why do you ask?' + +"'Why, that would be the only natural explanation. They say we can do +a great many things in sleep, of which we know nothing when we wake. +I've heard queer stories of that. Men have committed murders in their +sleep. It happens quite often that sleep-walkers write letters in a +handwriting they do not recognize when awake.' + +"'I have never been a sleep-walker,' answered Lucien. + +"'Oh, you never can tell,' I remarked. 'Would you rather explain it as +magic? Or as the work of fairies? Or do you believe in ghosts? Your +muse has fascinated you, you mystic!' And I laughed and trilled a line +from 'The Mascot,' which we had seen the evening before at the Lyric. + +"But my merriment did not seem to strike an answering note in Lucien. +He turned from me in silence, and with an offended expression took his +hat and his proofs, and--humorist and skeptic as he was ordinarily, he +parted from me with the words, uttered in a theatrical tone: + +"'There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamed of in thy +philosophy.' + +"He turned on his heel and left the room. + +"To be candid, I was unpleasantly affected by the little scene. I +could not for an instant doubt Lucien's honesty,--he was so pale, so +frightened almost--so touching in the alarm and excitement of his +soul. Of course the only explanation that I could see was that he had +written his novel in a sleep-walking state. + +"For certainly no printer could set up type from a manuscript that did +not exist,--to say nothing of printing it and sending out proofs. + +"Several days passed, but Lucien did not come near me. I went to his +place once or twice, but the door was locked. Had the devil carried +him off bodily? Or had this strange and inexplicable occurrence robbed +him of his sanity, and robbed me of his friendship and his excellent +whisky? + +"After three useless attempts to find him at home, and after writing +him a letter which he did not answer, I gave up Lucien without any +further attempt to understand his enigmatical behavior. A short time +after, I left for my home without having seen or heard anything more +of him. + +"Months passed. I remained at home, and one evening when, during the +course of a gay party, the conversation came around to the subject of +mysticism and occult occurrences, I dished up my story of the +enigmatical manuscript. The Unknown, the Occult, was the rage just +then, and my story was received with great applause and called forth +numerous quotations as to 'more things in heaven and earth.' I came to +think so much of it myself that I wrote it out and sent it to +Professor Flammarion, who was just then making a study of the Unknown, +which he preserved in his later book 'L'Inconnu.' + +"The occupying myself with the story brought my mind around again to +memories of Lucien. One day, I saw a notice in _Le Figaro_ to the +effect that his book, 'The Force of the Wind,' had appeared in a +second large edition, and had aroused much attention, particularly in +spiritualistic circles. I seemed to see him again before me, with his +long nervous neck, which was so expressive. The vision of this neck +rose up before me whenever I drank the same sort of whisky that I had +drunk so often with him, and the longing to hear something more of my +lost friend came over me. I sat down one evening when in a sentimental +mood, and wrote to him, asking him to tell me something of himself and +to send me his book. + +"A week later I received the little book and the following letter +which I have here in my pocket. It is somewhat crumpled, for I have +read it several times. But no matter. I will read it to you now, if +you will pardon my awkward translating of the French original. + +"Here it is: + +"DEAR FRIEND: + +"Many thanks for your letter. Here is the book. I have to thank you +also that you did not lay my behavior of your last days in Paris up +against me. It must have seemed strange to you. I will try to explain +it. + +"I have been nervous from childhood. The fact that most of my books +have treated of fantastic subjects,--somewhat in the manner of Edgar +Allan Poe--has made me more susceptible for all that world which lies +beyond and about the world of every-day life. I have sought +after,--and yet feared--the mystical; cool and lucid as I can be at +times, I have always had an inclination for the enigmatical, the +Unknown. + +"But the first thing that ever happened in my life that I could not +explain or understand was the affair of the manuscript. You remember +the day I stood in your room? I must have looked the picture of +misery. The affair had played more havoc with my nerves than you can +very well understand. Your mockery hurt me, and yet under all I felt +ashamed of my own thoughts concerning this foolish occurrence. I could +not explain the phenomenon, and I shivered at the things that it +suggested to me. In this condition, which lasted several weeks, I +could not bear to see you or anyone else, and I was impolite enough +even to leave your letter unanswered. + +"The book appeared and made a hit, since that sort of thing was the +center of interest just then. But almost a month passed before I could +arouse myself from that condition of fear and--I had almost said, +softening of the brain--which prevented my enjoyment of my success. + +"Then the explanation came. Thanks to this occurrence I know now that +I shall never again be in danger of being 'haunted.' + +"And I know now that Chance can bring about stranger happenings than +can any fancied visitations from the spirit world. Here you have the +story of this 'mystic' occurrence, which came near endangering my +sanity, and which turns out to be a chance combination of a gust of +wind, a sudden downpour of rain, and the strange elements in the +character of our little friend Adolphe the printer's boy. + +"You remember that funny little chap with the crafty eye, his talent +for gambling, and his admiration for the girl of 'La Prunelle'? A +queer little mixture this child who has himself alone to look to for +livelihood and care, the typical race of the Paris streets, the +modified gamin from 'Les Miserables.' + +"About a month after the appearance of my book I lay on the divan one +day,--your favorite place, you remember?--and lost myself in idle +reasonings on the same old subject that never left my mind day or +night, when the bell rang and Adolphe appeared, to call for the essay +on 'Le Boulevarde.' There was an unusually nervous gleam in his eyes +that day. I gave him an anisette and tried to find out what his +trouble was. I did find it out, and I found out a good deal more +besides. + +"Thanks to his good fortune as a gambler, Virginie came to look upon +him with favor. Pierre was quite out of the race and Adolphe's +affection was reciprocated as much as his heart could desire. But with +his good fortune in love came all the suffering, all the torture, the +suspicions that tear the hearts of us men when we set our hopes upon a +woman's truth. Young as he was he went through them all, and now he +was torturing himself with the thought that she did not really love +him and was only pretending, while she gave her heart to another. +Perhaps he was right--why not? + +"I talked to Adolphe as man to man, and managed to bring back a gleam +of his usual jollity and sly humor. He took another glass of anisette, +and said suddenly: + +"'M. Lucien--I did something----' + +"'Did what?' I asked. + +"'Something I should have told you long ago--it was wrong, and you've +always been so nice to me----' + +"You remember the day, two months ago, when we had such a sudden wind +and rain storm, a regular cloud-burst? I was down here in this +neighborhood fetching manuscripts from M. Labouchère and M. Laroy. I +was to have come up here for copy from you, too. But then--you'll +understand after all I've been telling you,--I came around past 'La +Prunelle' and Virginie stood in the doorway, and she'd promised to go +out with me that evening. So I ran up to speak to her. And then when I +went on again, I saw a sheet with your writing lying in the street. +You know I know all the gentlemen's writing, whose copy I fetch. Then +I was frightened. I thought to myself, 'The devil,' I thought, 'here +I've lost M. Lucien's manuscript.' I couldn't remember calling for it, +but I thought I must have done so before I got M. Laroy's. I can't +remember much except Virginie these days. I took up the sheet and saw +three others a little further on. And I saw a lot more shining just +behind the railing of the Luxembourg Garden. You know how hard it +rained. The water held the paper down, so the wind couldn't carry it +any further. I ran into the Garden and picked up all the sheets, +thirty-two of them. All of them, except the first four I found in the +street, had blown in behind the railing. And I can tell you I was +precious glad that I had them all together. I ran back to the office, +told them I had dropped the manuscript in the street, but asked them +not to say anything to you about it. But the sheets were all +there,--you always number them so clearly, and 'handsome August,' the +compositor, promised he wouldn't tell on me. I knew if the foreman +heard of it, he'd put me out, for he had a grudge against me. So +nobody knew anything about it. But I thought I ought to tell you, +'cause you've been so nice to me. Maybe you'll understand how one gets +queer at times, when a girl like Virginie tells you she likes you +better than Pierre, and yet you think she might deceive you for his +sake--that big, stupid animal--But now I'll be going. Much obliged for +your kindness, M. Lucien, and for the anisette--' And he left me. + +"There you have the explanation, the very simple and natural +explanation of the phenomenon that almost drove me crazy. + +"The entire 'supernatural' occurrence was caused by a careless boy's +love affairs, by a gust of southwest wind, by a sudden heavy rain, and +by the chance that I had used English ink, the kind that water cannot +blur. All these simple natural things made me act so foolishly toward +a good friend, the sort of friend I have always known you to be. Let +me hear from you, and tell me what you people up North think of my +book. I give you my word that the 'Unknown Powers' shall never again +make me foolish enough to risk losing your friendship! + +"Yours + +"LUCIEN." + +"So this is my story. Yes, 'there are more things in heaven and +earth--' But the workings of Chance are the strangest of all. And this +whisky is really very good. Here's to you." + + + +BERNHARD SEVERIN INGEMANN + + +_THE SEALED ROOM_ + + +For many years there stood in a side street in Kiel an unpretentious +old frame house which had a forbidding, almost sinister appearance, +with its old-fashioned balcony and its overhanging upper stories. For +the last twenty years the house had been occupied by a greatly +respected widow, Madame Wolff, to whom the dwelling had come by +inheritance. She lived there quietly with her one daughter, in +somewhat straitened circumstances. + +What gave the house a mysterious notoriety, augmenting the sinister +quality in its appearance, was the fact that one of its rooms, a +corner room on the main floor, had not been opened for generations. +The door was firmly fastened and sealed with plaster, as well as the +window looking out upon the street. Above the door was an old +inscription, dated 1603, which threatened sudden death and eternal +damnation to any human being who dared to open the door or efface the +inscription. Neither door nor window had been opened in the two +hundred years that had passed since the inscription was put up. But +for a generation back or more, the partition wall and the sealed door +had been covered with wall paper, and the inscription had been almost +forgotten. + +The room adjoining the sealed chamber was a large hall, utilized only +for rare important events. Such an occasion arose with the wedding of +the only daughter of the house. For that evening the great hall, as it +was called, was brilliantly decorated and illuminated for a ball. The +building had deep cellars and the old floors were elastic. Madame +Wolff had in vain endeavored to avoid using the great hall at all, for +the foolish old legend of the sealed chamber aroused a certain +superstitious dread in her heart, and she rarely if ever entered the +hall herself. But merry Miss Elizabeth, her pretty young daughter, was +passionately fond of dancing, and her mother had promised that she +should have a ball on her wedding day. Her betrothed, Secretary +Winther, was also a good dancer, and the two young people combated the +mother's prejudice against the hall and laughed at her fear of the +sealed room. They thought it would be wiser to appear to ignore the +stupid legend altogether, and thus to force the world to forget it. In +spite of secret misgivings Madame Wolff yielded to their arguments. +And for the first time in many years the merry strains of dance music +were heard in the great hall that lay next the mysterious sealed +chamber. + +The bridal couple, as well as the wedding guests, were in the gayest +mood, and the ball was an undoubted success. The dancing was +interrupted for an hour while supper was served in an adjoining room. +After the repast the guests returned to the hall, and it was several +hours more before the last dance was called. The season was early +autumn and the weather still balmy. The windows had been opened to +freshen the air. But the walls retained their dampness and suddenly +the dancers noticed that the old wall paper which covered the +partition wall between the hall and the sealed chamber had been +loosened through the jarring of the building, and had fallen away from +the sealed door with its mysterious inscription. + +The story of the sealed chamber had been almost forgotten by most of +those present, forgotten with many other old legends heard in +childhood. The inscription thus suddenly revealed naturally aroused +great interest, and there was a general curiosity to know what the +mysterious closed room might hide. Conjectures flew from mouth to +mouth. Some insisted that the closed door must hide the traces of a +hideous murder, or some other equally terrible crime. Others suggested +that perhaps the room had been used as a hiding place for garments and +other articles belonging to some person who had died of a pestilence, +and that the room had been sealed for fear of spreading the disease. +Still others thought that in the sealed chamber there might be found a +secret entrance from the cellars, which had made the room available as +a hiding place for robbers or smugglers. The guests had quite +forgotten their dancing in the interest awakened by the sight of the +mysterious door. + +"For mercy's sake, don't let's go too near it!" exclaimed some of the +young ladies. But the majority thought it would be great fun to see +what was hidden there. Most of the men said that they considered it +foolish not to have opened the door long ago, and examined the room. +The young bridegroom did not join in this opinion, however. He upheld +the decision of his mother-in-law not to allow any attempt to effect +an entrance into the room. He knew that there was a clause in the +title deeds to the house which made the express stipulation that no +owner should ever permit the corner room to be opened. There was +discussion among the guests as to whether such a clause in a title +deed could be binding for several hundred years, and many doubted its +validity at any time. But most of them understood why Madame Wolff did +not wish any investigation, even should any of those present have +sufficient courage to dare the curse and break open the door. + +"Nonsense! What great courage is necessary for that?" exclaimed +Lieutenant Flemming Wolff, a cousin of the bride of the evening. This +gentleman had a reputation that was not of the best. He was known to +live mostly on debt and pawn tickets, and was of a most quarrelsome +disposition. As a duelist he was feared because of his specialty. This +was the ability, and the inclination, through a trick in the use of +the foils, to disfigure his opponent's face badly, without at all +endangering his life. In this manner he had already sadly mutilated +several brave officers and students, who had had the bad luck to stand +up against him. He himself was anything but pleasant to look upon, his +natural plainness having been rendering repellent by a life of low +debauchery. He cherished a secret grudge against the bridegroom and +bitter feelings toward the bride, because the latter had so plainly +shown her aversion for him when he had ventured to pay suit to her. + +The family had not desired any open break with this disagreeable +relative, and had therefore sent him an invitation to the wedding. +They had taken it for granted that, under the circumstances, he would +prefer to stay away. But he had appeared at the ball, and, perhaps to +conceal his resentment, he had been the most indefatigable dancer of +the evening. At supper he had partaken freely of the strongest wines, +and was plainly showing the effect of them by this time. His eyes +rolled wildly, and those who knew him took care not to contradict him, +or to have anything to say to him at all. + +With a boastful laugh he repeated his assertion that it didn't take +much courage to open a sealed door, especially when there might be a +fortune concealed behind it. In his opinion it was cowardly to let +oneself be frightened by a century-old legend. _He_ wouldn't let that +bother him if _he_ had influence enough in the family to win the +daughter and induce the mother to give a ball in the haunted hall. +With this last hit he hoped to arouse the young husband's ire. But the +latter merely shrugged his shoulders and turned away with a smile of +contempt. + +Lieutenant Wolff fired up at this, and demanded to know whether the +other intended to call his, the lieutenant's, courage into question by +his behavior. + +"Not in the slightest, when it is a matter of obtaining a loan, or of +mutilating an adversary with a trick at fencing," answered the +bridegroom angrily, taking care, however, that neither the bride nor +any of the other ladies should hear his words. Then he continued in a +whisper: "But I don't believe you'd have the courage to remain here +alone and in darkness, before this closed door, for a single hour. If +you wish to challenge me for this doubt, I am at your disposal as soon +as you have proven me in the wrong. But I choose the weapons." + +"They must be chosen by lot, sir cousin," replied the lieutenant, his +cheek pale and his jaws set. "I will expect you to breakfast to-morrow +morning at eight o'clock." + +The bridegroom nodded, and took the other's cold dry hand for an +instant. The men who had overheard the short conversation looked upon +it as a meaningless incident, the memory of which would disappear from +the lieutenant's brain with the vanishing wine fumes. + +The ball was now over. The bride left the hall with her husband and +several of the guests who were to accompany the young couple to their +new home. The lights went out in the old house. The door of the +dancing hall had been locked from the outside. Lieutenant Flemming +Wolff remained alone in the room, having hidden himself in a dark +corner where he had not been seen by the servants, who had +extinguished the lights and locked the door. The night watchman had +just called out two o'clock when the solitary guest found himself, +still giddy from the heavy wine, alone in the great dark hall in front +of the mysterious door. + +The windows were at only a slight elevation from the street, and a +spring would take him to safety should his desire to remain there, or +to solve the mystery of the sealed room, vanish. But next morning all +the windows in the great hall were found closed, just as the servants +had left them the night before. The night watchman reported that he +had heard a hollow-sounding crash in that unoccupied part of the house +during the night. But that was nothing unusual, as there was a general +belief in the neighborhood that the house was haunted. + +For hollow noises were often heard there, and sounds as of money +falling on the floor, and rattling and clinking as of a factory +machine. Enlightened people, it is true, explained these sounds as +echoes of the stamping and other natural noises from a large stable +just behind the old house. But in spite of these explanations and +their eminent feasibility, the dread of the unoccupied portion of the +house was so great that not even the most reckless man servant could +be persuaded to enter it alone after nightfall. + +Next morning at eight o'clock Winther appeared at his mother-in-law's +door, saying that he had forgotten something of importance in the +great hall the night before. Madame Wolff had not yet arisen, but the +maid who let in the early visitor noticed with surprise that he had a +large pistol sticking out of one of his pockets. + +Winther had been to his cousin's apartment and found it locked. He now +entered the great hall, and at first glance thought it empty. To his +alarm and astonishment, however, he saw that the sealed door had been +broken open. He approached it with anxiety, and found his wife's +cousin, the doughty duelist, lying pale and lifeless on the threshold. +Beside him lay a large stone which had struck his head in falling and +must have killed him at once. Over the door was a hole in the wall, +just the size of the stone. The latter had evidently rested on the +upper edge of the door, and must certainly have fallen on its opening. +The unfortunate man lay half in the mysterious chamber and half in the +hall, just as he must have fallen when the stone struck him. + +The formal investigation of the closed room was made in the presence +of the police authorities. It contained nothing but a small safe which +was built into the wall. When the safe had been opened by force, an +inner chamber, which had to be broken open by itself, was found to +contain a number of rolls of gold pieces, many jewels and numerous +notes and I.O.U.'s. The treasure was covered by an old document. From +this latter it was learned that the owner of the house two hundred +years ago had been a silk weaver by the name of Flemming Ambrosius +Wolff. He was said to have lent money on security for many years, but +had died apparently a poor man, because he had so carefully hidden his +riches that little of it was found after his death. + +With a niggardliness that bordered on madness, he had believed that he +could hide his treasure forever by shutting it up in the sealed room. +The curse over the door was to frighten away any venturesome mortal, +and further security was given by the clause in the title deed. + +The universally disliked Lieutenant Flamming Wolff must have had many +characteristics in common with this disagreeable old ancestor, to +whose treasure he would have fallen heir had he not lost his life in +the discovering of it. The old miser had not hidden his wealth for all +eternity, as he had hoped, but had only brought about the inheriting +of it by Madame Wolff, the owner of the house, and the next of kin. +The first use to which this lady put the money was to tear down the +uncanny old building and to erect in its stead a beautiful new home +for her daughter and son-in-law. + + + +STEEN STEENSEN BLICHER + + +_THE RECTOR OF VEILBYE_ + + +These extracts from the diary of Erik Sorensen, District Judge, +followed by two written statements by the rector of Aalsö, give a +complete picture of the terrible events that took place in the parish +of Veilbye during Judge Sorensen's first year of office. Should anyone +be inclined to doubt the authenticity of these documents let him at +least have no doubt about the story, which is, alas! only too sadly +true. The memory of these events is still fresh in the district, and +the events themselves have been the direct cause of a change in the +method of criminal trials. A suspected murderer is now tried through +all the courts before his conviction can be determined. Readers versed +in the history of law will doubtless know by this during what epoch +the story is laid. + + + +I + +[_From the Diary of District Judge Erik Sörensen_.] + + +Now am I, unworthy one, by the grace of God made judge over this +district. May the Great Judge above give me wisdom and uprightness +that I may fulfill my difficult task in all humility! From the Lord +alone cometh judgment. + +It is not good that man should live alone. Now that I am able to +support a wife I will look about me for a help-meet. I hear much good +said about the daughter of the Rector of Veilbye. Since her mother's +death she has been a wise and economical keeper of her father's house. +And as she and her brother the student are the only children, she will +inherit a tidy sum when the old man dies. + +Morten Bruus of Ingvorstrup was here to-day and wanted to make me a +present of a fat calf. But I answered him in the words of Moses, +"Cursed be he who taketh gifts." He is of a very quarrelsome nature, a +sharp bargainer, and a boastful talker. I do not want to have any +dealings with him, except through my office as judge. + +I have prayed to God for wisdom and I have consulted with my own +heart, and I believe that Mistress Mette Quist is the only woman with +whom I could live and die. But I will watch her for a time in secret. +Beauty is deceptive and charm is a dangerous thing. But I must say +that she is the most beautiful woman I have yet seen. + +I think that Morten Bruus a very disagreeable person--I scarcely know +why myself. But whenever I see him something comes over me, something +that is like the memory of an evil dream. And yet it is so vague and +so faint, that I could not say whether I had really ever seen the man +in my dreams or not. It may be a sort of presentiment of evil; who +knows? + +He was here again and offered me a pair of horses--beautiful +animals--at a ridiculously low price. It looked queer to me. I know +that he paid seventy thalers for them, and he wanted to let me have +them for the same price. They are at the least worth one hundred +thalers, if not more. Was it intended for a bribe? He may have another +lawsuit pending. I do not want his horses. + +I paid a visit to the Rector of Veilbye to-day. He is a fine, +God-fearing man, but somewhat quick-tempered and dictatorial. And he +is close with his money, too, as I could see. Just as I arrived a +peasant was with him trying to be let off the payment of part of his +tithe. The man is surely a rogue, for the sum is not large. But the +rector talked to him as I wouldn't have talked to a dog, and the more +he talked the more violent he became. + +Well, we all have our faults. The rector meant well in spite of his +violence, for later on he told his daughter to give the man a sandwich +and a good glass of beer. She is certainly a charming and sensible +girl. She greeted me in a modest and friendly manner, and my heart +beat so that I could scarcely say a word in reply. My head farm hand +served in the rectory three years. I will question him,--one often +hears a straight and true statement from servants. + +A surprise! My farm hand Rasmus tells me that Morten Bruus came +a-wooing to the rectory at Veilbye some years back, but was sent away +with a refusal. The rector seemed to be pleased with him, for the man +is rich. But his daughter would not hear to it at all. Pastor Sören +may have tried hard to persuade her to consent at first. But when he +saw how much she disliked the man he let her do as she would. It was +not pride on her part, Rasmus said, for she is as simple and modest as +she is good and beautiful. And she knows that her own father is +peasant-born as well as Bruus. + +Now I know what the Ingvorstrup horses were intended for. They were to +blind the judge and to lead him aside from the narrow path of +righteousness. The rich Morten Bruus covets poor Ole Andersen's peat +moor and pasture land. It would have been a good bargain for Morten +even at seventy thalers. But no indeed, my good fellow, you don't know +Erik Sörensen! + +Rector Sören Quist of Veilbye came to see me this morning. He has a +new coachman, Niels Bruus, brother to the owner of Ingvorstrup. Niels +is lazy and impertinent. The rector wanted him arrested, but he had no +witnesses to back up his complaint. I advised him to get rid of the +man somehow, or else to get along with him the best he could until the +latter's time was up. The rector was somewhat hasty at first, but +later on he listened calmly and thanked me for my good advice. He is +inclined to be violent at times, but can always be brought to listen +to reason. We parted good friends. + +I spent a charming day in Veilbye yesterday. The rector was not at +home, but Mistress Mette received me with great friendliness. She sat +by the door spinning when I arrived, and it seemed to me that she +blushed. It was hardly polite for me to wait so long before speaking. +When I sit in judgement I never lack for words, but in the presence of +this innocent maiden I am as stupid as the veriest simpleton of a +chicken thief. But I finally found my voice and the time passed +quickly until the rector's return. Then Mistress Mette left us and did +not return until she brought in our supper. + +Just as she stepped through the doorway the rector was saying to me, +"Isn't it about time that you should think of entering into the holy +estate of matrimony?" (We had just been speaking of a recent very fine +wedding in the neighborhood.) Mistress Mette heard the words and +flushed a deep red. Her father laughed and said to her, "I can see, my +dear daughter, that you have been standing before the fire." + +I shall take the good man's advice and will very soon try my fate with +her. For I think I may take the rector's words to be a secret hint +that he would not object to me as a son-in-law. And the daughter? Was +her blush a favorable sign? + +Poor Ole Anderson keeps his peat moor and his pasture land, but rich +Morten Bruus is angry at me because of it. When he heard the decision +he closed his eyes and set his lips tight, and his face was as pale as +a whitewashed wall. But he controlled himself and as he went out he +called back to his adversary, "Wish you joy of the bargain Ole +Anderson. The peat bog won't beggar me, and the cattle at Ingvorstrup +have all the hay they can eat." I could hear his loud laughter outside +and the cracking of his whip. It is not easy to have to sit in +judgment. Every decision makes but one enemy the more. + +Yesterday was the happiest day of my life. We celebrated our betrothal +in the Rectory of Veilbye. My future father-in-law spoke to the text, +"I gave my handmaid into thy bosom" (Genesis xvi, 5). His words +touched my heart. I had not believed that this serious and sometimes +brusque man could talk so sweetly. When the solemnity was over, I +received the first kiss from my sweet betrothed, and the assurance of +her great love for me. + +At supper and later on we were very merry. Many of the dead mother's +kin were present. The rector's family were too far away. After supper +we danced until day-break and there was no expense spared in the food +and wine. My future father-in-law was the strongest man present, and +could easily drink all the others under the table. The wedding is to +take place in six weeks. God grant us rich blessings. + +It is not good that my future father-in-law should have this Niels +Bruus in his service. He is a defiant fellow, a worthy brother of him +of Ingvorstrup. If it were I, he should have his wages and be turned +off, the sooner the better. But the good rector is stubborn and +insists that Niels shall serve out his time. The other day he gave the +fellow a box on the ear, at which Niels cried out that he would make +him pay for it. The rector told me of this himself, for no one else +had been present. I talked to Niels, but he would scarcely answer me. +I fear he has a stubborn and evil nature. My sweet betrothed also +entreats her father to send the fellow away, but the rector will not +listen to reason. I do not know what the old man will do when his +daughter leaves his home for mine. She saves him much worry and knows +how to make all things smooth and easy. She will be a sweet wife for +me. + +As I thought, it turned out badly. But there is one good thing about +it, Niels has now run off of himself. The rector is greatly angered, +but I rejoice in secret that he is rid of that dangerous man. Bruus +will probably seek retaliation, but we have law and justice in the +land to order such matters. + +This was the way of it: The rector had ordered Niels to dig up a bit +of soil in the garden. After a time when he went out himself to look +at the work, he found Niels leaning on his spade eating nuts. He had +not even begun to dig. The rector scolded him, but the fellow answered +that he had not taken service as a gardener. He received a good box on +the ear for that. At this he threw away his spade and swore valiantly +at his master. The old rector lost his temper entirely, seized the +spade and struck at the man several times. He should not have done +this, for a spade is a dangerous weapon, especially in the hands of a +man as strong as is the pastor in spite of his years. Niels fell to +the ground as if dead. But when the pastor bent over him in alarm, he +sprang up suddenly, jumped the hedge and ran away to the woods. + +This is the story of the unfortunate affair as my father-in-law tells +it to me. My beloved Mette is much worried about it. She fears the man +may do harm to the cattle, or set fire to the house, or in some such +way take his revenge. But I tell her there is little fear of that. + +Three weeks more and my beloved leaves her father's house for mine. +She has been here and has gone over the house and the farm. She is +much pleased with everything and praises our orderliness. She is an +angel, and all who know her say that I am indeed a fortunate man. To +God be the praise! + +Strange, where that fellow Niels went to! Could he have left the +country altogether? It is an unpleasant affair in any case, and there +are murmurings and secret gossip among the peasants. The talk has +doubtless started in Ingvorstrup. It would not be well to have the +rector hear it. He had better have taken my advice, but it is not my +province to school a servant of God, and a man so much older than I. +The idle gossip may blow over ere long. I will go to Veilbye to-morrow +and find out if he has heard anything. + +The bracelet the goldsmith has made for me is very beautiful. I am +sure it will please my sweet Mette. + +My honored father-in-law is much distressed and down-hearted. +Malicious tongues have repeated to him the stupid gossip that is going +about in the district. Morten Bruus is reported to have said that "he +would force the rector to bring back his brother, if he had to dig him +out of the earth." The fellow may be in hiding somewhere, possibly at +Ingvorstrup. He has certainly disappeared completely, and no one seems +to know where he is. My poor betrothed is much grieved and worried. +She is alarmed by bad dreams and by presentiments of evil to come. + +God have mercy on us all! I am so overcome by shock and horror that I +can scarcely hold the pen. It has all come in one terrible moment, +like a clap of thunder. I take no account of time, night and morning +are the same to me and the day is but a sudden flash of lightning +destroying the proud castle of my hopes and desires. A venerable man +of God--the father of my betrothed--is in prison! And as a suspected +murderer! There is still hope that he may be innocent. But this hope +is but as a straw to a drowning man. A terrible suspicion rests upon +him----And I, unhappy man that I am, must be his judge. And his +daughter is my betrothed bride! May the Saviour have pity on us! + +It was yesterday that this horrible thing came. About half an hour +before sunrise Morten Bruus came to my house and had with him the +cotter Jens Larsen of Veilbye, and the widow and daughter of the +shepherd of that parish. Morten Bruus said to me that he had the +Rector of Veilbye under suspicion of having killed his brother Niels. +I answered that I had heard some such talk but had regarded it as idle +and malicious gossip, for the rector himself had assured me that the +fellow had run away. "If that was so," said Morten, "if Niels had +really intended to run away, he would surely at first come to me to +tell me of it. But it is not so, as these good people can prove to +you, and I demand that you shall hear them as an officer of the law." + +"Think well of what you are doing," I said. "Think it over well, +Morten Bruus, and you, my good people. You are bringing a terrible +accusation against a respected and unspotted priest and man of God. If +you can prove nothing, as I strongly suspect, your accusations may +cost you dear." + +"Priest or no priest," cried Bruus, "it is written, 'thou shalt not +kill!' And also is it written, that the authorities bear the sword of +justice for all men. We have law and order in the land, and the +murderer shall not escape his punishment, even if he have the district +judge for a son-in-law." + +I pretended not to notice his thrust and began, "It shall be as you +say. Kirsten Mads' daughter, what is it that you know of this matter +in which Morten Bruus accuses your rector? Tell the truth, and the +truth only, as you would tell it before the judgment seat of the +Almighty. The law will demand from you that you shall later repeat +your testimony under oath." + +The woman told the following story: The day on which Niels Bruus was +said to have run away from the rectory, she and her daughter were +passing along the road near the rectory garden a little after the noon +hour. She heard some one calling and saw that it was Niels Bruus +looking out through the garden hedge. He asked the daughter if she did +not want some nuts and told the women that the rector had ordered him +to dig in the garden, but that he did not take the command very +seriously and would much rather eat nuts. At that moment they heard a +door open in the house and Niels said, "Now I'm in for a scolding." He +dropped back behind the hedge and the women heard a quarrel in the +garden. They could hear the words distinctly but they could see +nothing, as the hedge was too high. They heard the rector cry, "I'll +punish you, you dog. I'll strike you dead at my feet!" Then they heard +several sounding slaps, and they heard Niels curse back at the rector +and call him evil names. The rector did not answer this, but the women +heard two dull blows and saw the head of a spade and part of the +handle rise and fall twice over the hedge. Then it was very quiet in +the garden, and the widow and her daughter were frightened and hurried +on to their cattle in the field. The daughter gave the same testimony, +word for word. I asked them if they had not seen Niels Bruus coming +out of the garden. But they said they had not, although they had +turned back several times to look. + +This accorded perfectly with what the rector had told me. It was not +strange that the women had not seen the man run out of the garden, for +he had gone toward the wood which is on the opposite side of the +garden from the highroad. I told Morten Bruus that this testimony was +no proof of the supposed murder, especially as the rector himself had +narrated the entire occurrence to me exactly as the women had +described it. But he smiled bitterly and asked me to examine the third +witness, which I proceeded to do. + +Jens Larsen testified that he was returning late one evening from +Tolstrup (as he remembered, it was not the evening of Niels Bruus's +disappearance, but the evening of the following day), and was passing +the rectory garden on the easterly side by the usual footpath. From +the garden he heard a noise as of some one digging in the earth. He +was frightened at first for it was very late, but the moon shone +brightly and he thought he would see who it was that was at work in +the garden at that hour. He put off his wooden shoes and pushed aside +the twigs of the hedge until he had made a peep hole. In the garden he +saw the rector in his usual house coat, a white woolen nightcap on his +head. He was busily smoothing down the earth with the flat of his +spade. There was nothing else to be seen. Just then the rector had +started and partly turned toward the hedge, and the witness, fearing +he might be discovered, slipped down and ran home hastily. + +Although I was rather surprised that the rector should be working in +his garden at so late an hour, I still saw nothing in this statement +that could arouse suspicion of murder. I gave the complainant a solemn +warning and advised him not only to let fall his accusation, but to +put an end to the talk in the parish. He replied, "Not until I see +what it is that the rector buried in his garden." + +"That will be too late," I said. "You are playing a dangerous game. +Dangerous to your own honor and welfare." + +"I owe it to my brother," he replied, "and I demand that the +authorities shall not refuse me assistance." + +My office compelled me to accede to his demands. Accompanied by the +accuser and his witnesses I took my way to Veilbye. My heart was very +heavy, not so much because of any fear that we might find the missing +man buried in the garden, but because of the surprise and distress I +must cause the rector and my beloved. As we went on our way I thought +over how severely the law would allow me to punish the calumniators. +But alas, Merciful Heavens! What a terrible discovery was in store for +me! + +I had wished to have a moment alone with the rector to prepare him for +what was coming. But as I drove through the gate Morten Bruus spurred +his horse past me and galloped up to the very door of the house just +as the rector opened it. Bruus cried out in his very face, "People say +that you have killed my brother and buried him in your garden. I am +come with the district judge to seek for him." + +The poor rector was so shocked and astounded that he could not find a +word to answer. I sprang from my wagon and addressed him: "You have +now heard the accusation. I am forced by my office to fulfill this +man's demands. But your own honor demands that the truth shall be +known and the mouth of slander silenced." + +"It is hard enough," began the rector finally, "for a man in my +position to have to clear himself from such a suspicion. But come with +me. My garden and my entire house are open to you." + +We went through the house to the garden. On the way we met my +betrothed, who was startled at seeing Bruus. I managed to whisper +hastily to her, "Do not be alarmed, dear heart. Your enemies are going +to their own destruction." Morten Bruus led the way to the eastern +side of the garden near the hedge. We others followed with the +rector's farm hands, whom he himself had ordered to join us with +spades. + +The accuser stood and looked about him until we approached. Then he +pointed to one spot. "This looks as if the earth had been disturbed +lately. Let us begin here." + +"Go to work at once," commanded the rector angrily. + +The men set to work, but they were not eager enough to suit Bruus, who +seized a spade himself to fire them on. A few strokes only sufficed to +show that the firm earth of this particular spot had not been touched +for many years. We all rejoiced--except Bruus--and the rector was very +happy. He triumphed openly over his accuser, and laughed at him, +"Can't you find anything, you libeler?" + +Bruus did not answer. He pondered for a few moments, then called out, +"Jens Larsen, where was it you saw the rector digging?" + +Jens Larsen had been standing to one side with his hands folded, +watching the work. At Bruus's words he aroused himself as if from a +dream, looked around him and pointed to a corner of the garden several +yards from where we stood. "I think it was over there." + +"What's that, Jens!" cried the rector angrily. "When did I dig here?" + +Paying no heed to his, Morten Bruus called the men to the corner in +question. The earth here was covered by some withered cabbage stalks, +broken twigs, and other brush which he pushed aside hurriedly. The +work began anew. + +I stood by the rector talking calmly with him about the punishment we +could mete out to the dastardly accuser, when one of the men suddenly +cried out with an oath. We looked toward them; there lay a hat half +buried in the loose earth. "We have found him," cried Bruus. "That is +Niels's hat; I would know it anywhere." + +My blood seemed turned to ice. All my hopes dashed to the ground. +"Dig! Dig!" cried the bloodthirsty accuser, working himself with all +his might. I looked at the rector. He was ghastly pale, staring with +wide-open eyes at the horrible spot. + +Another shot! A hand was stretched up through the earth as if to greet +the workers. "See there!" screamed Bruus. "He is holding out his hand +to me. Wait a little, Brother Niels! You will soon be avenged!" + +The entire corpse was soon uncovered. It was the missing man. His face +was not recognizable, as decomposition had begun, and the nose was +broken and laid flat by a blow. But all the garments, even to the +shirt with his name woven into it, were known to those who stood +there. In one ear was a leaden ring, which, as we all knew, Niels +Bruus had worn for many years. + +"Now, priest," cried Morten Bruus, "come and lay your hand on this +dead man if you dare to!" + +"Almighty God!" sighed the rector, looking up to heaven, "Thou art my +witness that I am innocent. I struck him, that I confess, and I am +bitterly sorry for it. But he ran away. God Almighty alone knows who +buried him here." + +"Jens Larsen knows also," cried Bruus, "and I may find more witnesses. +Judge! You will come with me to examine his servants. But first of all +I demand that you shall arrest this wolf in sheep's clothing." + +Merciful God, how could I doubt any longer? The truth was clear to all +of us. But I was ready to sink into the earth in my shock and horror. +I was about to say to the rector that he must prepare to follow me, +when he himself spoke to me, pale and trembling like an aspen leaf. +"Appearances are against me," he said, "but this is the work of the +devil and his angels. There is One above who will bring my innocence +to light. Come, judge, I will await my fate in fetters. Comfort my +daughter. Remember that she is your betrothed bride." + +He had scarcely uttered the words when I heard a scream and a fall +behind us. It was my beloved who lay unconscious on the ground. I +thought at first that she was dead, and God knows I wished that I +could lie there dead beside her. I raised her in my arms, but her +father took her from me and carried her into the house. I was called +to examine the wound on the dead man's head. The cut was not deep, but +it had evidently fractured the skull, and had plainly been made by a +blow from a spade or some similar blunt instrument. + +Then we all entered the house. My beloved had revived again. She fell +on my neck and implored me, in the name of God, to help her father in +his terrible need. She begged me by the memory of our mutual love to +let her follow him to prison, to which I consented. I myself +accompanied him to Grenaa, but with a mournful heart. None of us spoke +a word on the sad journey. I parted from them in deep distress. The +corpse was laid in a coffin and will be buried decently to-morrow in +Veilbye churchyard. + +To-morrow I must give a formal hearing to the witnesses. God be +merciful to me, unfortunate man! + +Would that I had never obtained this position for which I--fool that I +am--strove so hard. + +As the venerable man of God was brought before me, fettered hand and +foot, I felt as Pilate must have felt as they brought Christ before +him. It was to me as if my beloved--God grant her comfort, she lies +ill in Grenaa--had whispered to me, "Do nothing against that good +man!" + +Oh, if he only were innocent, but I see no hope! + +The three first witnesses repeated their testimony under oath, word +for word. Then came statements by the rector's two farm hands and the +dairy maid. The men had been in the kitchen on the fatal day, and as +the windows were open they had heard the quarrel between the rector +and Niels. As the widow had stated, these men had also heard the +rector say, "I will strike you dead at my feet!" They further +testified that the rector was very quick-tempered, and that when +angered he did not hesitate to strike out with whatever came into his +hand. He had struck a former hand once with a heavy maul. + +The girl testified that on the night Jens Larsen claimed to have seen +the rector in the garden, she had lain awake and heard the creaking of +the garden door. When she looked out of the window she had seen the +rector in his dressing gown and nightcap go into the garden. She could +not see what he was doing there. But she heard the door creak again +about an hour later. + +When the witnesses had been heard, I asked the unfortunate man whether +he would make a confession, or else, if he had anything to say in his +own defense. He crossed his hands over his breast and said, "So help +me God, I will tell the truth. I have nothing more to say than what I +have said already. I struck the dead man with my spade. He fell down, +but jumped up in a moment and ran away from the garden out into the +woods. What may have happened to him there, or how he came to be +buried in my garden, this I do not know. When Jens Larsen and my +servant testify that they saw me at night in the garden, either they +are lying, or Satan has blinded them. I can see this--unhappy man that +I am--that I have no one to turn to for help here on earth. Will He +who is in heaven be silent also, then must I bow to His inscrutable +will." He bowed his head with a deep sigh. + +Some of those present began to weep, and a murmur arose that he might +possibly be innocent. But this was only the effect of the momentary +sympathy called out by his attitude. My own heart indeed spoke for +him. But the judge's heart may not dare to dictate to his brain or to +his conscience. My conviction forced me to declare that the rector had +killed Niels Bruus, but certainly without any premeditation or +intention to do so. It is true that Niels Bruus had often been heard +to declare that he would "get even with the rector when the latter +least expected it." But it is not known that he had fulfilled his +threat in any way. Every man clings to life and honor as long as he +can. Therefore the rector persists in his denial. My poor, dear Mette! +She is lost to me for this life at least, just as I had learned to +love her so dearly. + +I have had a hard fight to fight to-day. As I sat alone, pondering +over this terrible affair in which it is my sad lot to have to give +judgment, the door opened and the rector's daughter--I may no longer +call her my betrothed--rushed in and threw herself at my feet. I +raised her up, clasped her in my arms and we wept together in silence. +I was first to control myself. "I know what you would say, dear heart. +You want me to save your father. Alas, God help us poor mortals, I +cannot do it! Tell me, dearest one, tell me truly, do you yourself +believe your father to be innocent?" + +She crossed her hands on her heart and sobbed, "I do not know!" Then +she burst into tears again. "But he did not bury him in the garden," +she continued after a few moments. "The man may have died in the wood +from the blow. That may have happened----" + +"But, dearest heart," I said, "Jen Larsen and the girl saw your father +in the garden that night." + +She shook her head slowly and answered, "The evil one blinded their +eyes." She wept bitterly again. + +"Tell me, beloved," she began again, after a while, "tell me frankly +this much. If God sends us no further enlightenment in this +unfortunate affair, what sentence must you give?" + +She gazed anxiously at me, her lips trembling. + +"If I did not believe," I began slowly, "that anyone else in my place +would be more severe than I, then I would gladly give up my position +at once and refuse to speak the verdict. But I dare not conceal from +you that the mildest sentence that God, our king, and our laws demand +is, a life for a life." + +She sank to her knees, then sprang up again, fell back several steps +as if afraid of me, and cried out: "Would you murder my father? Would +you murder your betrothed bride? See here! See this!" She came nearer +and held up her hand with my ring on it before my eyes. "Do you see +this betrothal ring? What was it my father said when you put this ring +upon my finger? 'I have given my maid unto thy bosom!' But you, you +thrust the steel deep into my bosom!" + +Alas, every one of her words cut deep into my own heart. "Dearest +love," I cried, "do not speak so. You thrust burning irons into my +heart. What would you have me do? Acquit him, when the laws of God and +man condemn?" + +She was silent, sobbing desperately. + +"One thing I can do," I continued. "If it be wrong may God forgive me. +If the trial goes on to an end his life is forfeited, there is no hope +except in flight. If you can arrange an escape I will close my eyes. I +will not see or hear anything. As soon as your father was imprisoned, +I wrote to your brother in Copenhagen. He can arrive any moment now. +Talk to him, make friends with the jailer. If you lack money, all I +have is yours." + +When I had finished her face flushed with joy, and she threw her arms +about my neck. "God bless you for these words. Were my brother but +here, he will know what to do. But where shall we go?" her tone +changed suddenly and her arms dropped. "Even should we find a refuge +in a foreign country I could never see you again!" Her tone was so sad +that my heart was near to breaking. + +"Beloved," I exclaimed, "I will find you wherever you may hide +yourself! Should our money not be sufficient to support us I can work +for us all. I have learned to use the ax and the hoe." + +She rejoiced again and kissed me many times. We prayed to God to bless +our undertaking and parted with glad hearts. I also hoped for the +best. Doubts assail me, but God will find for us some light in this +darkness. + +Two more new witnesses. They bring nothing good, I fear, for Bruus +announced them with an expression I did not like. He has a heart of +stone, which can feel nothing but malice and bitterness. I give them a +hearing to-morrow. I feel as if they had come to bear witness against +me myself. May God strengthen my heart. + +All is over. He has confessed. + +The court was in session and the prisoner had been brought in to hear +the testimony of the new witnesses. These men stated as follows: On +the night in question they were walking along the path that led +between the woods and the rectory garden. A man with a large sack on +his back came out of the woods and walked ahead of them toward the +garden. They could not see his face, but in the bright moonlight his +figure was clearly visible, and they could see that he wore a loose +green garment, like a dressing gown, and a white nightcap. The man +disappeared through an opening in the rectory garden fence. + +Scarcely had the first witness ended his statement when the rector +turned ghastly pale, and gasped, in a voice that could scarcely be +heard, "I am ill." They gave him a chair. + +Bruus turned to his neighbor and exclaimed audibly, "That helped the +rector's memory." + +The prisoner did not hear the words, but motioned to me and said, +"Lead me back to my prison. I will talk to you there." They did as he +demanded. + +We set out at once for Grenaa. The rector was in the wagon with the +jailer and the gendarme, and I rode beside them. + +When the door of the cell was opened my beloved was making up her +father's bed, and over a chair by the bedside hung the fatal green +dressing gown. My dear betrothed greeted me with a cry of joy, as she +believed that I was come to set her father free. She hung about the +old man's neck, kissing away the tears that rolled unhindered down his +cheeks. I had not the heart to undeceive her, and I sent her out into +the town to buy some things for us. + +"Sit down, dear friend," said the rector, when we were alone. He +seated himself on the bed, staring at the ground with eyes that did +not see. Finally he turned toward me where I sat trembling, as if it +were my own sentence I was to hear, as in a manner it was. "I am a +great sinner," he sighed, "God only knows how great. His punishment +crushes me here that I may enter into His mercy hereafter." + +He grew gradually calmer and began: + +"Since my childhood I have been hot-tempered and violent. I could +never endure contradiction, and was always ready to give a blow. But I +have seldom let the sun go down upon my wrath, and I have never borne +hatred toward any man. As a half-grown boy I killed our good, kind +watchdog in one of my fits of rage for some trifling offense, and I +have never ceased to regret it. Later, as a student in Leipzig, I let +myself be carried away sufficiently to wound seriously my adversary in +one of our fencing bouts. A merciful fate alone saved me from becoming +a murderer then. It is for these earlier sins that I am now being +punished, but the punishment falls doubly hard, now that I am an old +man, a priest, a servant of the Lord of Peace, and a father! Ah, that +is the deepest wound!" He sprang up and wrung his hands in deep +despair. I would have said something to comfort him, but I could find +no words for such sorrow. + +When he had controlled himself somewhat he sat down again and +continued: "To you, once my friend and now my judge, I will confess +this crime, which it seems beyond a doubt that I have committed, +although I am not conscious cf having done so." (I was startled at +this, as I had expected a remorseful confession.) "Listen well to what +I shall now tell you. That I struck the unfortunate man with the +spade, that he fell down and then ran away, this is all that I know +with full consciousness.... What followed then? Four witnesses have +seen that I fetched the body and buried it in my garden--and now at +last I am forced to believe that it must be true. These are my reasons +for the belief. Three or four times in my life I have walked in my +sleep. The last time--it may have been nine or ten years ago--I was to +have held a funeral service on the following day, over the body of a +man who had died a sudden and terrible death. I could not find a +suitable text, until suddenly there came to me the words of an old +Greek philosopher, 'Call no man fortunate until his death.' It was in +my mind that the same idea was expressed in different words in the +Holy Scriptures. I sought and sought, but could not find it. At last I +went to bed much fatigued, and slept soundly. Next morning, when I sat +down at my desk, to my great astonishment I saw there a piece of +paper, on which was written, 'Call no man happy until his end hath +come' (Sirach xi. 34), and following it was a funeral sermon, short, +but as good in construction as any I have ever written. And all this +was in my own handwriting. It was quite out of the question that +anyone could have entered the room during the night, as I had locked +it myself, and it had not been opened until I entered next day. I knew +what had happened, as I could remember one or two such occurrences in +my life before. + +"Therefore, dear friend, when the last witnesses gave their testimony +to-day, I suddenly remembered my sleep-walking exploits, and I also +remembered, what had slipped my mind before, that on the morning after +the night the body was buried I had found my dressing gown in the hall +outside of my bedroom. This had surprised me, as I always hung it over +a chair near my bed. The unfortunate victim of my violence must have +died in the woods from his wound, and in my dream consciousness I must +have seen this and gone to fetch the body. It must be so. I know no +other explanation. God have mercy on my sinful soul." He was silent +again, covering his face with his hands and weeping bitterly. + +I was stuck dumb with astonishment and uncertainty. I had always +suspected that the victim had died on the spot where he was buried, +although I could not quite understand how the rector had managed to +bury the body by day without being seen. But I thought that he might +have covered it lightly with earth and twigs and finished his work at +night. He was a man of sufficient strength of mind to have done this. +When the latest witnesses were telling their story, I noted the +possible contradiction, and hoped it might prove a loophole of escape. +But, alas, it was all only too true, and the guilt of the rector +proven beyond a doubt. It was not at all impossible for a man to do +such things in his sleep. Just as it was quite possible that a man +with a fractured skull could run some distance before he fell to die. +The rector's story bore the stamp of truth, although the doubt _will_ +come that he desired thus to save a shred of honor for his name. + +The prisoner walked up and down the room several times, then stopping +before me he said gravely: "You have now heard my confession, here in +my prison walls. It is your mouth that must speak my sentence. But +what says your heart?" + +I could scarcely utter the words, "My heart suffers beyond expression. +I would willingly see it break if I could but save you from a shameful +death." (I dared not mention to him my last hope of escape in flight.) + +"That is impossible," he answered. "My life is forfeited. My death is +just, and shall serve as a warning to others. But promise me that you +will not desert my poor daughter. I had thought to lay her in your +arms"--tears choked his voice--"but, alas, that fond hope is vanished. +You cannot marry the daughter of a sentenced murderer. But promise me +that you will watch over her as her second father." In deep sorrow and +in tears I held his hand in mine. "Have you any news from my son?" he +began again. "I hope it will be possible to keep him in ignorance of +this terrible affair until--until it is all over. I could not bear to +see him now. And now, dear friend, let us part, not to meet again +except in the hall of justice. Grant me of your friendship one last +service, let it end soon. I long for death. Go now, my kind, +sympathetic judge. Send for me to-morrow to speak my sentence, and +send to-day for my brother in God, the pastor in Aalsö. He shall +prepare me for death. God be with you." + +He gave me his hand with his eyes averted. I staggered from the +prison, hardly conscious of what I was doing. I would have ridden home +without seeing his daughter had she not met me by the prison door. She +must have seen the truth in my face, for she paled and caught at my +arm. She gazed at me with her soul in her eyes, but could not speak. +"Flee! Save your father in flight!" was all I could say. + +I set spurs to my horse and rode home somehow. + +To-morrow, then! + +The sentence is spoken. + +The accused was calmer than the judge. All those present, except his +bitter enemy, were affected almost to tears. Some whispered that the +punishment was too severe. + +May God be a milder judge to me than I, poor sinner, am forced to be +to my fellow men. + +She has been here. She found me ill in bed. There is no escape +possible. He will not flee. Everything was arranged and the jailer was +ready to help. But he refuses, he longs for death. God be merciful to +the poor girl. How will she survive the terrible day? I am ill in body +and soul, I can neither aid nor comfort her. There is no word from the +brother. + +I feel that I am near death myself, as near perhaps as he is, whom I +sent to his doom. Farewell, my own beloved bride.... What will she do? +she is so strangely calm--the calm of wordless despair. Her brother +has not yet come, and to-morrow--on the Ravenshill----! + +Here the diary of Erik Sörensen stopped suddenly. What followed can be +learned from the written and witnessed statements of the pastor of +Aalsö, the neighboring parish to Veilbye. + + +II + +It was during the seventeenth year of my term of office that the +terrible event happened in the neighborhood which filled all who heard +of it with shock and horror, and brought shame and disgrace upon our +holy calling. The venerable Sören Quist, Rector of Veilbye, killed his +servant in a fit of rage and buried the body in his garden. + +He was found guilty at the official trial, through the testimony of +many witnesses, as well as through his own confession. He was +condemned to death, and the sentence was carried out in the presence +of several thousand people on the little hill known as Ravenshill, +here in the field of Aalsö. + +The condemned man had asked that I might visit him in his prison. I +must state that I have never given the holy sacrament to a better +prepared or more truly repentant Christian. He was calm to the last, +full of remorse for his great sin. On the field of death he spoke to +the people in words of great wisdom and power, preaching to the text +from the Lamentations of Jeremiah, chap. ii., verse 6: "He hath +despised the priest in the indignation of his anger." He spoke of his +violence and of its terrible results, and of his deep remorse. He +exhorted his hearers to let his sin and his fate be an example to +them, and a warning not to give way to anger. Then he commended his +soul to the Lord, removed his upper garments, bound up his eyes with +his own hand, then folded his hands in prayer. When I had spoken the +words, "Brother, be of good cheer. This day shalt thou be with thy +Saviour in Paradise," his head fell by the ax. + +The one thing that made death bitter for him was the thought of his +children. The son had been sent for from Copenhagen, but as we +afterwards learned, he had been absent from the city, and therefore +did not arrive until shortly after his father had paid the penalty for +his crime. + +I took the daughter into my home, where she was brought, half +fainting, after they had led her father from the prison. She had been +tending him lovingly all the days of his trial. What made even greater +sorrow for the poor girl, and for the district judge who spoke the +sentence, was that these two young people had solemnly plighted their +troth but a few short weeks before, in the rectory of Veilbye. The son +arrived just as the body of the executed criminal was brought into my +house. It had been permitted to us to bury the body with Christian +rites, if we could do it in secret. The young man threw himself over +the lifeless body. Then, clasping his sister in his arms, the two wept +together in silence for some while. At midnight we held a quiet +service over the remains of the Rector of Veilbye, and the body was +buried near the door of Aalsö church. A simple stone, upon which I +have carved a cross, still stands to remind the passer-by of the sin +of a most unfortunate man. + +The next morning his two children had disappeared. They have never +been heard of since. God knows to what far-away corner of the world +they have fled, to hide their shame and their sorrow. The district +judge is very ill, and it is not believed that he will recover. + +May God deal with us all after His wisdom and His mercy! + +O Lord, inscrutable are thy ways! + +In the thirty-eighth year of my service, and twenty-one years after my +unfortunate brother in office, the Rector of Veilbye had been beheaded +for the murder of his servant, it happened one day that a beggar came +to my door. He was an elderly man, with gray hair, and walked with a +crutch. He looked sad and needy. None of the servants were about, so I +myself went into the kitchen and gave him a piece of bread. I asked +him where he came from. He sighed and answered: + +"From nowhere in particular." + +Then I asked him his name. He sighed still deeper, looked about him as +if in fear, and said, "They once called me Niels Bruus." + +I was startled, and said, "God have mercy on us! That is a bad name. +That is the name of a man who was killed many years back." + +Whereat the man sighed still deeper and replied: "It would have been +better for me had I died then. It has gone ill with me since I left +the country." + +At this the hair rose on my head, and I trembled in every limb. For it +seemed to me that I could recognize him, and also it seemed to me that +I saw Morten Bruus before me in the flesh, and yet I had laid the +earth over him three years before. I stepped back and made the sign of +the cross, for verily I thought it was a ghost I saw before me. + +But the man sat down in the chimney corner and continued to speak. +"Reverend father, they tell me my brother Morten is dead. I have been +to Ingvorstrup, but the new owner chased me away. Is my old master, +the Rector of Veilbye, still alive?" Then it was that the scales fell +from my eyes and I saw into the very truth of this whole terrible +affair. But the shock stunned me so that I could not speak. The man +bit into his bread greedily and went on. "Yes, that was all Brother +Morten's fault. Did the old rector have much trouble about it?" + +"Niels! Niels!" I cried from out the horror of my soul, "you have a +monstrous black sin upon your conscience! For your sake that +unfortunate man fell by the ax of the executioner!" + +The bread and the crutch fell from his hand, and he himself was near +to falling into the fire. "May God forgive you, Morten!" he groaned. +"God knows I didn't mean anything like that. May my sin be forgiven +me! But surely you only mean to frighten me! I come from far away, and +have heard nothing. No one but you, reverend father, has recognized +me. I have told my name to no one. When I asked them in Veilbye if the +rector was still there, they said that he was." + +"That is the new rector," I replied. "Not he whom you and your sinful +brother have slain." + +He wrung his hands and cried aloud, and then I knew that he had been +but a tool in the hands of that devil, Morten. Therefore I set to work +to comfort him, and took him into my study that he might calm himself +sufficiently to tell me the detail of this Satan's work. + +This was the story as he tells it: His brother Morten--truly a son of +Belial--cherished a deadly hatred toward pastor Sören Quist since the +day the latter had refused him the hand of his daughter. As soon as he +heard that the pastor's coachman had left him, he persuaded Niels to +take the place. + +"Watch your chance well," he had said, "we'll play the black coat a +trick some day, and you will be no loser by it." + +Niels, who was rough and defiant by nature, soon came to a quarrel +with his master, and when he had received his first chastisement, he +ran at once to Ingvorstrup to report it. "Let him strike you just once +again," said Morten. "Then come to me, and we will pay him for it." + +Then came the quarrel in the garden, and Niels ran off to Ingvorstrup. +He met his brother in the woods and told him what had occurred. + +"Did anyone see you on the way here?" asked Morten. + +Niels thought not. "Good," said Morten; "now we'll give him a fright +that he will not forget for a week or so." + +He led Niels carefully to the house, and kept him hidden there the +rest of the day. When all the household else had gone to sleep the two +brothers crept out, and went to a field where several days before they +had buried the body of a man of about Niels' age, size, and general +appearance. (He had hanged himself, some said because of ill-treatment +from Morten, in whose service he was. Others said it was because of +unhappy love.) They dug up the corpse, although Niels did not like the +work, and protested. But Morten was the stronger, and Niels had to do +as he was ordered. They carried the body back with them into the +house. + +Then Niels was ordered to take off all his clothes, piece by piece, +even to his shirt, and dress the dead man in them. Even his leaden +earring, which he had worn for many years, was put in the ear of the +corpse. After this was done, Morten took a spade and gave the head of +the corpse two crashing blows, one over the nose, the other on the +temple. The body was hidden in a sack and kept in the house during the +next day. At night the day following, they carried it out to the wood +near Veilbye. + +Several times Niels had asked of his brother what all this preparation +boded. But Morten answered only, "That is my affair. Do as I tell you, +and don't ask questions." + +When they neared the edge of the wood by Veilbye, Morten said, "Now +fetch me one of the coats the pastor wears most. If you can, get the +green dressing gown I have often seen him wear mornings." + +"I don't dare," said Niels, "he keeps it in his bed chamber." + +"Well, then, I'll dare it myself," said Morten. "And now, go your way, +and never show yourself here again. Here is a bag with one hundred +thalers. They will last you until you can take service somewhere in +another country. Go where no one has ever seen you, and take another +name. Never come back to Denmark again. Travel by night, and hide in +the woods by day until you are well away from here. Here are +provisions enough to last you for several days. And remember, never +show yourself here again, as you value your life." + +Niels obeyed, and has never seen his brother since that day. He had +had much trouble, had been a soldier and lost his health in the war, +and finally, after great trials and sufferings, had managed to get +back to the land of his birth. This was the story as told me by the +miserable man, and I could not doubt its truth. + +It was now only too clear to me that my unfortunate brother in the +Lord had fallen a victim to the hatred of his fiendish enemy, to the +delusion of his judge and the witnesses, and to his own credulous +imagination. + +Oh, what is man that he shall dare to sit in judgment over his +fellows! God alone is the Judge. He who gives life may alone give +death! + +I did not feel it my duty to give official information against this +crushed and broken sinner, particularly as the district judge is still +alive, and it would have been cruelty to let him know of his terrible +error. + +Instead, I gave what comfort my office permitted to the poor man, and +recommended him not to reveal his name or tell his story to anyone in +the district. On these conditions I would give him a home until I +could arrange for a permanent refuge for him in my brother's house, a +good distance from these parts. + +The day following was a Sunday. When I returned from evening service +at my branch parish, the beggar had disappeared. But by the evening of +the next day the story was known throughout the neighborhood. + +Goaded by the pangs of conscience, Niels had gone to Rosmer and made +himself known to the judge as the true Niels Bruus. Upon the hearing +of the terrible truth, the judge was taken with a stroke and died +before the week was out. But on Tuesday morning they found Niels Bruus +dead on the grave of the late rector Sören Quist of Veilbye, by the +door of Aalsö church. + + + +_HUNGARIAN MYSTERY STORIES_ + + + +FERENCZ MOLNAR + + +_THE LIVING DEATH_ + + +There is a very serious reason, my dear sisters, why at last, after an +absence of twenty years in America, I am confiding to you this strange +secret in the life of our beloved and lamented father, and of the old +house where we were children together. The truth is, if I read rightly +the countenances of my physicians as they whisper to each other by the +window of the chamber in which I am lying, that only a few days of +this life remain to me. + +It is not right that this secret should die with me, my dear sisters. +Though it will seem terrible to you, as it has to me, it will enable +you to better understand our blessed father, help you to account for +what must have seemed to you to be strange inconsistencies in his +character. That this secret was revealed to me was due to my indolence +and childish curiosity. + +For the first, and the last, time in my life I listened at a keyhole. +With shame and a hotly chiding conscience I yielded to that insatiable +curiosity--and when you have read these lines you will understand why +I do not regret that inexcusable, furtive act. + +I was only a lad when we went to live in that odd little house. You +remember it stood in the outskirts of Rakos, near the new cemetery. It +stood on a deep lot, and was roughly boarded on the side which looked +on the highway. You remember that on the first floor, next the street, +were the room of our father, the dining room, and the children's room. +In the rear of the house was the sculpture studio. There we had the +large white hall with big windows, where white-clothed laborers +worked. They mixed the plaster, made forms, chiseled, scratched, and +sawed. Here in this large hall had our father worked for thirty years. + +When I arrived, in the holidays, I noted a change in our father's +countenance. His beard was white, even when he did not work with the +plaster. Through his strong spectacles his eyes glittered peculiarly. +He was less calm than formerly. And he did not speak much, but all the +more did he read. + +Why, we all knew that after the passing away of our mother he became a +bookworm, reading very often by candlelight until morning. + +Then did it happen, about the fourth day after my arrival. I spent my +leisure hours in the studio; I carved little figures, formed little +pillar heads from the white plaster. In the corner a big barrel stood +filled with water. It was noon; the laborers went to lunch. + +I sat down close to the barrel and carved a Corinthian pillar. Father +came into the studio and did not notice me. He carried in his hands +two plates of soup. When he came into the studio he closed the door +behind him and looked around in the shop, as though to make sure he +was not observed. As I have said, he did not notice me. I was +astonished. Holding my breath, I listened. Father went through the +large hall, and then opened a small door, of which I knew only so much +that it led into a chamber three steps lower than the studio. + +I was full of expectation. I listened. I did not hear a word of +conversation. Presently father came back with the empty plates in his +hand. Somebody bolted the chamber's door behind him. + +Father went out of the studio, and I, much embarrassed, crept from +behind the barrel. + +I knew that the chamber had a window, which looked back toward the +plowed fields. I ran out of the studio and around the house. Much to +my astonishment, the chamber's window was curtained inside. A large +yellow plaid curtain hid everything from view. But I had to go, +anyway, for I heard Irma's voice calling from the yard: + +"Antal, to lunch!" + +I sat down to the table with you, my sisters, and looked at father. He +was sitting at the head of the table, and ate without saying a word. + +Day after day I troubled my head about this mystery in the chamber, +but said not a word to anybody. I went into the studio, as usual, but +I did not notice anything peculiar. Not a sound came from the chamber, +and when our father worked in the shop with his ten laborers he passed +by the small door as if beyond it there was nothing out of the +ordinary. + +On Thursday I had to go back to Germany. On Tuesday night curiosity +seized me again. Suddenly I felt that perhaps never would I know what +was going on in my father's house. That night, when the working people +were gone, I went into the studio. For a long time I was lost in my +thoughts. All kinds of romantic ideas passed through my head, while my +gaze rested on that small mysterious chamber door. + +In the studio it was dark already, and from under the small door in a +thin border a yellow radiance poured out. Suddenly I regained my +courage. I went to the door and listened. Somebody was speaking. It +was a man's voice, but I did not understand what he was saying. I was +putting my ear close to the door, when I heard steps at the front of +the studio. Father came. + +I quickly withdrew myself behind the barrel. Father walked through the +hall and knocked on the door softly. The bolt clicked and the door +opened. Father went into the chamber and closed the door immediately +and locked it. + +Now all discretion and sense of honor in me came to an end. Curiosity +mastered me. I knew that last year one part of this small room had +been partitioned off and was used as a woodhouse. And I knew that +there was a possibility of going into the woodhouse through the yard. + +I went out, therefore, but found the woodhouse was closed. Driven by +trembling curiosity, I ran into the house, took the key of the +woodhouse from its nail, and in a minute, through the crevice between +two planks, I was looking into that mysterious little room. + +There was a table in the middle of the room, and beside the wall were +two straw mattresses. On the table a lighted candle stood. A bottle of +wine was beside it, and around the table were sitting father and two +strangers. Both the strangers were all in black. Something in their +appearance froze me with terror. + +I fled in a panic of unreasoning fear, but returned soon, devoured by +curiosity. + +You, my sister Irma, must remember how I found you there, gazing with +starting eyeballs on the same mysteriously terrifying scene--and how I +drew you away with a laugh and a trifling explanation, so that I might +return and resume my ghastly vigil alone. + +One of the strangers wore a frock coat and had a sunburned, brown +face. He was not old yet, not more than forty-five or forty-eight. He +seemed to be a tradesman in his Sunday clothes. That did not interest +me much. + +I looked at the other old man, and then a shiver of cold went through +me. He was a famous physician, a professor, Mr. H----. I desire to lay +stress upon it that he it was, for I had read two weeks before in the +papers that he had died and was buried! + +And now he was sitting, in evening dress, in the chamber of a poor +plaster sculptor, in the chamber of my father behind a bolted door! + +I was aware of the fact that the physician knew father. Why, you can +recall that when father had asthma he consulted Mr. H----. Moreover, +the professor visited us very frequently. The papers said he was dead, +yet here he was! + +With beating heart and in terror, I looked and listened. + +The professor put some shining little thing on the table. + +"Here is my diamond shirt stud," he said to my father, "It is yours." + +Father pushed the jewel aside, refusing the gift. + +"Why, you are spending money on me," said the professor. + +"It makes no difference," replied father; "I shan't take the diamond." + +Then they were silent for a long while. At length the professor smiled +and said: + +"The pair of cuff buttons which I had from Prince Eugene I presented +to the watchman in the cemetery. They are worth a thousand guldens." + +And he showed his cuffs, from which the buttons were missing. Then he +turned to the sunburned man: + +"What did you give him, General Gardener?" + +The tall, strong man unbuttoned his frock coat. + +"Everything I had--my gold chain, my scarf pin, and my ring." + +I did not understand all that. What was it? Where did they come from? +A horrible presentiment arose in me. They came from the cemetery! They +wore the very clothes in which they were buried! + +What had happened to them? Were they only apparently dead? Did they +awake? Did they rise from the dead? What are they seeking here? + +They had a very low-voiced conversation with father. I listened in +vain. Only later on, when they got warmed with their subject and spoke +more audibly, did I understand them. + +"There is no other way," said the professor. "Put it in your will that +the coroner shall pierce your heart through with a knife." + +Do you remember, my sisters, the last will of our father, which was +thus executed? + +Father did not say a word. Then the professor went on, saying: + +"That would be a splendid invention. Had I been living till now I +would have published a book about it. Nobody takes the Indian fakir +seriously here in Europe. But, despite this, the buried fakirs, who +are two months under ground and then come back into life, are very +serious men. Perhaps they are more serious than ourselves, with all +our scientific knowledge. There are strange, new, dreadful things for +which we are not yet matured enough. + +"I died upon their methods; I can state that now. The mental state +which they reach systematically I reached accidentally. The solitude, +the absorbedness, the lying in a bed month by month, the gazing upon a +fixed point hour by hour--these are all self-evident facts with me, a +deserted misanthrope. + +"I died as the Indian fakirs do, and were I not a descendant of an old +noble family, who have a tomb in this country, I would have died +really. + +"God knows how it happened. I don't think there is any use of worrying +ourselves about it. I have still four days. Then we go for good and +all. But not back, no, no, not back to life!" + +He pointed with his hand toward the city. His face was burning from +fever, and he knitted his brows. His countenance was horrible at this +moment. Then he looked at the man with the sunburned face. + +"The case of Mr. Gardener is quite different. This is an ordinary +physician's error. But he has less than four days. He will be gone +to-morrow or positively day after to-morrow." + +He grasped the pulse of the sunburned man. + +"At this minute his pulse beats a hundred and twelve. You have a day +left, Mr. Gardener. But not back. We don't go back. Never!" + +Father said nothing. He looked at the professor with seriousness, and +fondly. The professor drank a glass of wine, and then turned toward +father. + +"Go to bed. You have to get up early; you still live; you have +children. We shall sleep if we can do so. It is very likely that +General Gardener won't see another morning. You must not witness +that." + +Now father began to speak, slowly, reverently. + +"If you, professor, have to send word--or perhaps Mr. +Gardener--somebody we must take care of--a command, if you have--" + +The professor looked at him sternly, saying but one word: + +"Nothing." + +Father was still waiting. + +"Absolutely nothing," repeated the professor. "I have died, but I have +four days yet. I live those here, my dear old friend, with you. But I +don't go back any more. I don't even turn my face backward. I don't +want to know where the others live. I don't want life, old man. It is +not honorable to go back. Go, my friend--go to bed." + +Father shook hands with them and disappeared. General Gardener sat +stiffly on his chair. The professor gazed into the air. + +I began to be aware of all that had happened here. These two +apparently dead men had come back from the cemetery, but how, in what +manner, by what means? I don't understand it perfectly even now. +There, in the small room, near to the cemetery, they were living their +few remaining days. They did not want to go back again into life. + +I shuddered. During these few minutes I seemed to have learned the +meaning of life and of death. Now I myself felt that the life of the +city was at a vast distance. I had a feeling that the professor was +right. It was not worth while. I, too, felt tired, tired of life, like +the professor, the feverish, clever, serious old man who came from the +coffin and was sitting there in his grave clothes waiting for the +final death. + +They did not speak a word to each other. They were simply waiting. I +did not have power to move away from the crack in the wall through +which I saw them. + +And now there happened the awful thing that drove me away from our +home, never to return. + +It was about half-past one when someone tapped on the window. The +professor took alarm and looked at Mr. Gardener a warning to take no +notice. But the tapping grew louder. The professor got up and went to +the window. + +He lifted the yellow curtain and looked out into the night. Quickly he +returned and spoke to General Gardener, and then both went to the +window and spoke with the person who had knocked. After a long +conversation they lifted the man through the window. + +On this terrible day nothing could happen that would surprise me. I +was benumbed. The man who was lifted through the window was clad in +white linen to his feet. He was a Hebrew, a poor, thin, weak, pale +Hebrew. He wore his white funeral dress. He shivered from cold, +trembled, seemed almost unconscious. The professor gave him some wine. +The Hebrew stammered: + +"Terrible! Oh, horrible!" + +I learned from his broken language that he had not been buried yet, +like the professor. He had not yet known the smell of the earth. He +had come from his bier. + +"I was laid out a corpse," he whimpered. "My God, they would have +buried me by to-morrow!" + +The professor gave him wine again. + +"I saw a light here," he went on. "I beg you will give me some +clothes--some soup, if you please--and I am going back again." Then he +said in German: + +"Meine gute, theure Frau! Meine Kinder!" (My good wife, my children.) + +He began to weep. The professor's countenance changed to a devilish +expression when he heard this lament. He despised the lamenting +Hebrew. + +"You are going back?" he thundered. "But you won't go back! Don't +shame yourself!" + +The Hebrew gazed at him stupidly. + +"I live in Rottenbiller Street," he stammered. "My name is Joseph +Braun." + +He bit his nails in his nervous agitation. Tears filled his eyes. "Ich +muss zu meine Kinder," he said in German again. (I must go to my +children.) + +"No!" exclaimed the professor. "You'll never go back!" + +"But why?" + +"I will not permit it!" + +The Hebrew looked around. He felt that something was wrong here. His +startled manner seemed to ask: "Am I in a lunatic asylum?" He dropped +his head and said to the professor simply: + +"I am tired." + +The professor pointed to the straw mattress. + +"Go to sleep. We will speak further in the morning." + +Fever blazed in the professor's face. On the other straw mattress +General Gardener now slept with his face to the wall. + +The Hebrew staggered to the straw mattress, threw himself down, and +wept. The weeping shook him terribly. The professor sat at the table +and smiled. + +Finally the Hebrew fell asleep. Hours passed in silence. I stood +motionless looking at the professor, who gazed into the candlelight. +There was not much left of it. Presently he sighed and blew it out. +For a little while there was dark, and then I saw the dawn penetrating +the yellow curtain at the window. The professor leaned back in his +chair, stretched out his feet, and closed his eyes. + +All at once the Hebrew got up silently and went to the window. He +believed the professor was asleep. He opened the window carefully and +started to creep out. The professor leaped from his chair, shouting: + +"No!" + +He caught the Hebrew by his shroud and held him back. There was a long +knife in his hand. Without another word, the professor pierced the +Hebrew through the heart. + +He put the limp body on the straw mattress, then went out of the +chamber toward the studio. In a few minutes he came back with father. +Father was pale and did not speak. They covered the dead Hebrew with a +rug, and then, one after the other, crept out through the window, +lifted the corpse out, and carried it away. In a quarter of an hour +they came back. They exchanged a few words, from which I learned that +they had succeeded in putting the dead Hebrew back on his bier without +having been observed. + +They shut the window. The professor drank a glass of wine and again +stretched out his legs on the chair. + +"It is impossible to go back," he said. "It is not allowed." + +Father went away. I did not see him any more. I staggered up to my +room, went to bed, and slept immediately. The next day I got up at ten +o'clock. I left the city at noon. + +Since that time, my dear sisters, you have not seen me. I don't know +anything more. At this minute I say to myself that what I know, what I +have set down here, is not true. Maybe it never happened, maybe I have +dreamed it all. I am not clear in my mind. I have a fever. + +But I am not afraid of death. Here, on my hospital bed, I see the +professor's feverish but calm and wise face. When he grasped the +Hebrew by the throat he looked like a lover of Death, like one who has +a secret relation with the passing of life, who advocates the claims +of Death, and who punishes him who would cheat Death. + +Now Death urges his claim upon me. I have no desire to cheat him--I am +so tired, so very tired. + +God be with you, my dear sisters. + + + +MAURUS JOKAI + + +_THIRTEEN AT TABLE_ + + +We are far amidst the snow-clad mountains of Transylvania. + +The scenery is magnificent. In clear weather, the plains of Hungary as +far as the Rez promontory may be seen from the summit of the +mountains. Groups of hills rise one above the other, covered with +thick forest, which, at the period when our tale commences, had just +begun to assume the first light green of spring. + +Toward sunset, a slight purple mist overspread the farther pinnacles, +leaving their ridges still tinged with gold. On the side of one of +these hills the white turrets of an ancient family mansion gleamed +from amid the trees. + +Its situation was peculiarly romantic. A steep rock descended on one +side, on whose pinnacle rose a simple cross. In the depth of the +valley beneath lay a scattered village, whose evening bells +melodiously broke the stillness of nature. + +Farther off, some broken roofs arose among the trees, from whence the +sound of the mill, and the yellow-tinted stream, betrayed the miners' +dwellings. + +Through the meadows in the valley beneath a serpentine rivulet wound +its silvery way, interrupted by numerous falls and huge blocks of +stone, which had been carried down in bygone ages from the mountains +during the melting of the snows. + +A little path, cut in the side of the rock, ascended to the castle; +while higher up, a broad road, somewhat broken by the mountain +streams, conducted across the hills to more distant regions. + +The castle itself was an old family mansion, which had received many +additions at different periods, as the wealth or necessities of the +family suggested. + +It was surrounded by groups of ancient chestnut trees, and the terrace +before the court was laid out in gardens, which were now filled with +anemones, hyacinths, and other early flowers. Now and then the head of +a joyous child appeared at the windows, which were opened to admit the +evening breeze; while various members of the household retinue were +seen hastening through the corridors, or standing at the doors in +their embroidered liveries. + +The castle was completely surrounded by a strong railwork of iron, the +stone pillars were overgrown by the evergreen leaves of the gobea and +epomoea. + +It was the early spring of 1848. + +A party, consisting of thirteen persons, had assembled in the +dining-room. They were all members of one family, and all bore the +name of Bardy. + +At the head of the board sat the grandmother, an old lady of eighty +years of age, whose snow-white hair was dressed according to the +fashion of her times beneath her high white cap. Her face was pale and +much wrinkled, and the eyes turned constantly upwards, as is the case +with persons who have lost their sight. Her hand and voice trembled +with age, and there was something peculiarly striking in the thick +snow-white eyebrows. + +On her right hand sat her eldest son, Thomas Bardy, a man of between +fifty and sixty. With a haughty and commanding countenance, +penetrating glance, lofty figure, and noble mien, he was a true type +of that ancient aristocracy which is now beginning to die out. + +Opposite to him, at the old lady's left hand, sat the darling of the +family--a lovely girl of about fifteen. Her golden hair fell in +luxuriant tresses round a countenance of singular beauty and +sweetness. The large and lustrous deep-blue eyes were shaded by long +dark lashes, and her complexion was pale as the lily, excepting when +she smiled or spoke, and a slight flush like the dawn of morning +overspread her cheeks. + +Jolanka was the orphan child of a distant relative, whom the Bardys +had adopted. They could not allow one who bore their name to suffer +want; and it seemed as if each member of the family had united to heap +affection and endearment on the orphan girl, and thus prevented her +from feeling herself a stranger among them. + +There were still two other female members of the family: Katalin, the +old lady's daughter, who had been for many years a widow; and the wife +of one of her sons, a pretty young woman, who was trying to teach a +little prattler at her side to use the golden spoon which she had +placed in his small, fat hand, while he laughed and crowed, and the +family did their best to guess what he said, or what he most +preferred. + +Opposite to them there sat two gentlemen. One of them was the husband +of the young mother, Jozsef Bardy--a handsome man of about +thirty-five, with regular features, and black hair and beard; a +constant smile beamed on his gay countenance, while he playfully +addressed his little son and gentle wife across the table. The other +was his brother, Barnabas--a man of herculean form and strength. His +face was marked by smallpox; he wore neither beard or mustache, and +his hair was combed smoothly back, like a peasant's. His disposition +was melancholy and taciturn; but he seemed constantly striving to +atone, by the amiability of his manners, for an unprepossessing +exterior. + +Next to him sat a little cripple, whose pale countenance bore that +expression of suffering sweetness so peculiar to the deformed, while +his lank hair, bony hands, and misshapen shoulders awakened the +beholder's pity. He, too, was an orphan--a grandchild of the old +lady's; his parents had died some years before. + +Two little boys of about five years old sat opposite to him. They were +dressed alike, and the resemblance between them was so striking that +they were constantly mistaken. They were twin-children of the young +couple. + +At the lower end of the table sat Imre Bardy, a young man of twenty, +whose handsome countenance was full of life and intelligence, his +figure manly and graceful, and his manner courteous and agreeable. A +slight moustache was beginning to shade his upper lip, and his dark +hair fell in natural ringlets around his head. He was the only son of +the _majoresco_, Tamas Bardy, and resembled him much in form and +feature. + +Beside him sat an old gentleman, with white hair and ruddy complexion. +This was Simon Bardy, an ancient relative, who had grown old with the +grandmother of the family. + +The same peculiarity characterized every countenance in the Bardy +family--namely the lofty forehead and marked brows, and the large +deep-blue eyes, shaded by their heavy dark lashes.[1] + +"How singular!" exclaimed one of the party; "we are thirteen at table +to-day." + +"One of us will surely die," said the old lady; and there was a +mournful conviction in the faint, trembling tones. + +"Oh, no, grandmother, we are only twelve and a half!" exclaimed the +young mother, taking the little one on her knee. + +"This little fellow only counts half on the railroad." + +All the party laughed at this remark, even the little cripple's +countenance relaxed into a sickly smile. + +"Ay, ay," continued the old lady, "the trees are now putting forth +their verdure, but at the fall of the leaf who knows if all of us, or +any of us, may still be sitting here?" + + * * * * * + +Several months had passed since this slight incident. + +In one of the apartments of the castle, the eldest Bardy and his son +were engaged in earnest conversation. + +The father paced hastily up and down the apartment, now and then +stopping short to address his son, who stood in the embrasure of one +of the windows. The latter wore the dress of the Matyas Hussars[2]--a +gray dolmany, with crimson cord; he held a crimson csako, with a +tricolored cockade, in his hand. + +"Go," said the father, speaking in broken accents; "the sooner the +better; let me not see you! Do not think I speak in anger, but I +cannot bear to look at you, and think where you are going. You are my +only son, and you know how I have loved you--how all my hopes have +been concentrated in you. But do not think that these tears, which you +see me shed for the first time, are on your account; for if I knew I +should lose you,--if your blood were to flow at the next battle,--I +should only bow my head in dust and say, 'The Lord gave, and the Lord +takes away, blessed be His holy name!' Yes, if I heard that you and +your infatuated companions were cut to pieces, I could stifle the +burning tears; but to know that your blood, when it flows, will be a +curse upon the earth, and your death will be the death of two +kingdoms--" + +"They may die now; but they will regenerate----" + +"This is not true; you only deceive yourselves with the idea that you +can build up a new edifice when you have overthrown the old one. Great +God, what sacrilege! Who had intrusted you with the fate of our +country, to tempt the Almighty? Who authorized you to lose all there +is for the hope of what may be? For centuries past have so many +honorable men fought in vain to uphold the old tottering constitution, +as you call it? Or were they not true patriots and heroes? Your +companions have hissed their persecuted countrymen in the Diet; but do +they love their country better than we do, who have shed our blood and +sacrificed our interests for her from generation to generation, and +even suffered disgrace, if necessary, to keep her in life?--for though +that life has been gradually weakened, still it is life. You promise +her glory; but the name of glory is death!" + +"It may be so, father; we may lose our country as regards ourselves, +but we give one instead of ten millions, who were hitherto our own +people, and yet strangers in their native land." + +"Chimera! The people will not understand you. They never even dreamt +of what you wish to give them. The true way to seek the people's +welfare is to give them what they need. + +"Ask my dependents! Is there one among them whom I have allowed to +suffer want or ruin, whom I have not assisted in times of need?--or +have I ever treated them unjustly? You will not hear a murmur. Tell +them that I am unjust notwithstanding, because I do not call the +peasant from his plow to give his opinions on forming the laws, and +constitution,--and what will be the consequence? They will stare at +you in astonishment; and yet, in their mistaken wrath, they will come +down some night and burn this house over my head." + +"That is the unnatural state of the times. It is all the fault of the +past bad management, if the people have no better idea. But let the +peasant once be free, let him be a man, and he will understand all +that is now strange to him." + +"But that freedom will cost the lives of thousands!" + +"I do not deny it. Indeed, I believe that neither I nor any of the +present generation will reap the fruits of this movement. I think it +probable that in a few years not one of those whose names we now hear +spoken of may still be living; and what is more, disgrace and curses +may be heaped upon their dust. But a time will come when the great +institutions of which they have laid the foundation will arise and +render justice to the memory of those who sacrificed themselves for +the happiness of future generations. To die for our country is a +glorious death, but to carry with us the curses of thousands, to die +despised and hated for the salvation of future millions, oh! that is +sublime--it is Messiah-like!" + +"My son--my only son!" cried his father, throwing himself passionately +on the young man's neck and sobbing bitterly. "Do you see these +tears?" + +"For the first time in my life I see them, father--I see you weep; my +heart can scarcely bear the weight of these tears--and yet I go! You +have reason to weep, for I bring neither joy nor glory on your +head--and yet I go! A feeling stronger than the desire of glory, +stronger than the love of my country, inspires my soul; and it is a +proof of the strength of my faith that I see your tears, my +father--and yet I go!" + +"Go!" murmured his father, in a voice of despair. "You may never +return again, or, when you do, you may find neither your father's +house nor the grave in which he is laid! But know, even then, in the +hour of your death, or in the hour of mine, I do not curse you--and +now, leave me." With these words he turned away and motioned to his +son to depart. + +Imre silently left the apartment, and as soon as he had closed the +door the tears streamed from his eyes; but before his sword had struck +the last step his countenance had regained its former determination, +and the fire of enthusiasm had kindled in his eye. + +He then went to take leave of his Uncle Jozsef, whom he found +surrounded by his family. The twins were sitting at his feet, while +his wife was playing bo-peep with the little one, who laughed and +shouted, while his mother hid herself behind his father's armchair. + +Imre's entrance interrupted the general mirth. The little boy ran over +to examine the sword and golden tassels, while the little one began to +cry in alarm at the sight of the strange dress. + +"Csitt, baba!" said his mother, taking him from his father's arms; +"your cousin is going to wars, and will bring you a golden horse." + +Jozsef wrung his nephew's hand. "God be with you!" he exclaimed, and +added in a lower voice, "You are the noblest of us all--you have done +well!" + +They then all embraced him in turns, and Imre left them, amidst +clamors of the little ones, and proceeded to his grandmother's +apartments. + +On the way, he met his Uncle Barnabas, who embraced him again and +again in silence, and then tore himself away without saying a word. + +The old lady sat in her great armchair, which she seldom quitted, and +as she heard the clash of Imre's sword, she looked up and asked who +was coming. + +"It is Imre!" said the fair-haired maiden, blushing, and her heart +beat quickly as she pronounced his name. + +Jolanka felt that Imre was more than a brother to her, and the feeling +with which she had learnt to return his affection was warmer than even +a sister's love. + +The widow lady and the cripple were also in the grandmother's +apartment; the child sat on a stool at the old lady's feet, and smiled +sadly as the young man entered. + +"Why that sword at your side, Imre?" asked the old lady in a feeble +voice. "Ah, this is no good world--no good world! But if God is +against us, who can resist His hand? I have spoken with the dead again +in dreams. I thought they all came around me and beckoned me to follow +them; but I am ready to go, and place my life with gratitude and +confidence in the hands of the Lord. Last night I saw the year 1848 +written in the skies in letters of fire. Who knows what may come over +us yet? This is no good world--no good world!" + +Imre bent silently over the old lady's hand and kissed it. + +"And so you are going? Well, God bless and speed you, if you go +beneath the cross, and never forget in life or in death to raise your +heart to the Lord;" and the old lady placed her withered hand upon her +grandson's head, and murmured, "God Almighty bless you!" + +"My husband was just such a handsome youth when I lost him," sighed +the widow lady as she embraced her nephew. "God bless you!" + +The little cripple threw his arms around his cousin's knees and, +sobbing, entreated him not to stay long away. + +The last who bade farewell was Jolanka. She approached with downcast +eyes, holding in her small white hands an embroidered cockade, which +she placed on his breast. It was composed of five colors--blue and +gold, red, white, and green.[3] + +"I understand," said the young man, in a tone of joyful surprise, as +he pressed the sweet girl to his heart, "Erdely[4] and Hungary united! +I shall win glory for your colors!" + +The maiden yielded to his warm embrace, murmuring, as he released her, +"Remember me!" + +"When I cease to remember you, I shall be no more," replied the youth +fervently. + +And then he kissed the young girl's brow, and once more bidding +farewell, he hurried from the apartment. + +Old Simon Bardy lived on the first floor: Imre did not forget him. + +"Well, nephew," said the old man cheerfully, "God speed you, and give +you strength to cut down many Turks!" + +"It is not with the Turks that we shall have to do," replied the young +man, smiling. + +"Well, with the French," said the old soldier of the past century, +correcting himself. + +A page waited at the gate with two horses saddled and bridled. + +"I shall not require you--you may remain at home," said Imre, as, +taking the bridle of one of the horses, vaulting lightly into the +saddle, he pressed his csako over his brow and galloped from the +castle. + +As he rode under the cross, he checked his horse and looked back. Was +it of his grandmother's words, or of the golden-haired Jolanka that he +thought? + +A white handkerchief waved from the window. + +"Farewell, light of my soul!" murmured the youth; and kissing his +hand, he once more dashed his spurs into his horse's flank, and turned +down the steep hill. + +Those were strange times. All at once the villages began to be +depopulated; the inhabitants disappeared, none knew whither. The doors +of the houses were closed. + +The bells were no longer heard in the evening, nor the maiden's song +as she returned from her work. The barking of dogs which had lost +their masters alone interrupted the silence of the streets, where the +grass began to grow. + +Imre Bardy rode through the streets of the village without meeting a +soul; few of the chimneys had smoke, and no fires gleamed through the +kitchen windows. + +Evening was drawing on, and a slight transparent mist had overspread +the valley. Imre was desirous of reaching Kolozsvar[5] early on the +next morning, and continued his route all night. + +About midnight the moon rose behind the trees, shedding her silvery +light over the forest. All was still, excepting the echo of the +miner's hammer, and the monotonous sound of his horse's step along the +rocky path. He rode on, lost in thought; when suddenly the horse +stopped short, and pricked his ears. + +"Come, come," said Imre, stroking his neck, "you have not heard the +cannon yet." + +The animal at last proceeded, turning his head impatiently from side +to side, and snorting and neighing with fear. + +The road now led through a narrow pass between two rocks, whose +summits almost met, and a slight bridge, formed of one or two rotten +planks, was thrown across the dry channel of a mountain stream which +cut up the path. + +As Imre reached the bridge, the horse backed, and no spurring could +induce him to cross. Imre at last pressed his knee angrily against the +trembling animal, striking him at the same time across the neck with +the bridle, on which the horse suddenly cleared the chasm at one bound +and then again turned and began to back. + +At that instant a fearful cry arose from beneath, which was echoed +from the rocks around, and ten or fifteen savage-looking beings +climbed from under the bridge, with lances formed of upright scythes. + +Even then there would have been time for the horseman to turn back, +and dash through a handful of men behind him, but either he was +ashamed of turning from the first conflict, or he was desirous, at any +risk, to reach Kolozsvar at the appointed time, and instead of +retreating by the bridge, he galloped towards the other end of the +pass, where the enemy rushed upon him from every side, yelling +hideously. + +"Back, Wallachian dogs!" cried Imre, cutting two of them down, while +several others sprang forward with the scythes. + +Two shots whistled by, and Imre, letting go the bridle, cut right and +left, his sword gleaming rapidly among the awkward weapons; and taking +advantage of a moment in which the enemy's charge began to slacken, he +suddenly dashed through the crowd towards the outlet of the rock, +without perceiving that another party awaited him above the rocks with +great stones, with which they prepared to crush him as he passed. + +He was only a few paces from the spot, when a gigantic figure, armed +with a short broad-axe, and with a Roman helmet on his head, descended +from the rock in front of him, and seizing the reins of the horse +forced him to halt. The young man aimed a blow at his enemy's head, +and the helmet fell back, cut through the middle, but the force of the +blow had broken his sword in two; and the horse lifted by his giant +foe, reared, so that the rider, losing his balance, was thrown against +the side of the rock, and fell senseless to the ground. + +At the same instant a shot was fired toward them from the top of the +rock. + +"Who fired there?" cried the giant, in a voice of thunder. The +bloodthirsty Wallachians would have rushed madly on their defenseless +prey, had not the giant stood between him and them. + +"Who fired on me?" he sternly exclaimed. The Wallachians stood back in +terror. + +"It was not on you, Decurio, that I fired, but on the hussar," +stammered out one of the men, on whom the giant had fixed his eye. + +"You lie, traitor! Your ball struck my armor, and had I not worn a +shirt of mail, it would have pierced my heart." + +The man turned deadly pale, trembling from head to foot. + +"My enemies have paid you to murder me?" The savage tried to speak, +but words died upon his lips. + +"Hang him instantly--he is a traitor!" + +The rest of the gang immediately seized the culprit and carried him to +the nearest tree, from whence his shrieks soon testified that his +sentence was being put in execution. + +The Decurio remained alone with the young man; and hastily lifting +him, still senseless, from the ground, he mounted his horse, and +placing him before him ere the savage horde had returned, he had +galloped some distance along the road from whence the youth had come, +covering him with his mantle as he passed the bridge, to conceal him +from several of the gang who stood there, and exclaiming, "Follow me +to the Topanfalvo." + +As soon as they were out of sight, he suddenly turned to the left, +down a steep, hilly path, and struck into the depth of the forest. + +The morning sun had just shot its first beams across the hills, +tinting with golden hue the reddening autumn leaves, when the young +hussar began to move in his fevered dreams, and murmured the name +"Jolanka." + +In a few moments he opened his eyes. He was lying in a small chamber, +through the only window of which the sunbeams shone upon his face. + +The bed on which he lay was made of lime-boughs, simply woven +together, and covered with wolves' skins. A gigantic form was leaning +against the foot of the bed with his arms folded, and as the young man +awoke, he turned round. It was the Decurio. + +"Where am I?" asked the young man, vaguely endeavoring to recall the +events of the past night. + +"In my house," replied Decurio. + +"And who are you?" + +"I am Numa, Decurio of the Roumin[6] Legion, your foe in battle, but +now your host and protector." + +"And why did you save me from your men?" asked the young man, after a +short silence. + +"Because the strife was unequal--a hundred against one." + +"But had it not been for you, I could have freed myself from them." + +"Without me you had been lost. Ten paces from where I stopped your +horse, you would inevitably have been dashed to pieces by huge stones +which they were preparing to throw down upon you from the rock." + +"And you did not desire my death?" + +"No, because it would have reflected dishonor on the Roumin name." + +"You are a chivalrous man, Decurio!" + +"I am what you are; I know your character, and the same feeling +inspires us both. You love your nation, as I do mine. Your nation is +great and cultivated; mine is despised and neglected, and my love is +more bitterly devoted. Your love for your country makes you happy; +mine deprives me of peace. You have taken up arms to defend your +country without knowing your own strength, or the number of the foe; I +have done the same. Either of us may lose, or we may both be blotted +out; but though the arms may be buried in the earth, rust will not eat +them." + +"I do not understand your grievances." + +"You do not understand? Know, then, that although fourteen centuries +have passed since the Roman eagle overthrew Diurbanus, there are still +those among us--the now barbarous people--who can trace their descent +from generation to generation, up to the times of its past glory. We +have still our traditions, if we have nothing more; and can point out +what forest stands in the place of the ancient Sarmisaegethusa, and +what town is built where one Decebalus overthrew the far-famed troops +of the Consulate. And alas for that town! if the graves over which its +houses are built should once more open, and turn the populous streets +into a field of battle! What is become of the nation, the heir of so +much glory?--the proud Dacians, the descendants of the far-famed +legions? I do not reproach any nation for having brought us to what we +now are; but let none reproach me if I desire to restore my people to +what they once were." + +"And do you believe that this is the time?" + +"We have no prophets to point out the hour, but it seems yours do not +see more clearly. We shall attempt it now, and if we fail our +grandchildren will attempt it again. We have nothing to lose but a few +lives; you risk much that is worth losing, and yet you assemble +beneath the banner of war. Then war. Then what would you do if you +were like us?--a people who possess nothing in this world among whom +there is not one able or one instructed head; for although every third +man bears the name of Papa, it is not every hundredth who can read! A +people excluded from every employment; who live a miserable life in +the severest manual labor; who have not one noble city in their +country, the home of three-fourths of their people. Why should we seek +to know the signs of the times in which we are to die, or be +regenerated! We have nothing but our wretchedness, and if we are +conquered we lose nothing. Oh! you did wrong for your own peace to +leave a nation to such utter neglect!" + +"We do not take up arms for our nation alone, but for freedom in +general." + +"You do wrong. It is all the same to us who our sovereign may be; only +let him be just towards us, and raise up our fallen people; but you +will destroy your nation--its power, its influence, and +privileges--merely that you may live in a country without a head." + +A loud uproar interrupted the conversation. A disorderly troop of +Wallachians approached the Decurio's house, triumphantly bearing the +hussar's csako on a pole before them. + +"Had I left you there last night, they would now have exhibited your +head instead of your csako." + +The crowd halted before the Decurio's window, greeting him with loud +vociferations. + +The Decurio spoke a few words in the Wallachian language, on which +they replied more vehemently than before, at the same time thrusting +forward the kalpag on the pole. + +The Decurio turned hastily round. "Was your name written on your +kalpag?" he asked the young man, in evident embarrassment. + +"It was." + +"Unhappy youth! The people, furious at not having found you, are +determined to attack your father's house." + +"And you will permit them?" asked the youth, starting from bed. + +"I dare not contradict them, unless I would lose their confidence. I +can prevent nothing." + +"Give me up--let them wreak their bloody vengeance on my head!" + +"I should only betray myself for having concealed you; and it would +not save your father's house." + +"And if they murder the innocent and unprotected, on whom will the +ignominy of their blood fall?" + +"On me; but I will give you the means of preventing this disgrace. Do +you accept it?" + +"Speak!" + +"I will give you a disguise; hasten to Kolozsvar and assemble your +comrades,--then return and protect your house. I will wait you there, +and man to man, in open honorable combat, the strife will no longer be +ignominious." + +"Thanks, thanks!" murmured the youth, pressing the Decurio's hand. + +"There is not a moment to lose; here is a peasant's mantle--if you +should be interrogated, you have only to show this paszura,[7] and +mention my name. Your not knowing the language is of no consequence; +my men are accustomed to, see Hungarian gentlemen visit me in +disguise, and having only seen you by night, they will not recognize +you." + +Imre hastily took the dress, while Decurio spoke to the people, made +arrangements for the execution of their plans, and pointed out the way +to the castle, promising to follow them immediately. + +"Accept my horse as a remembrance," said the young man, turning to the +Decurio. + +"I accept it, as it would only raise suspicion were you to mount it; +but you may recover it again in the field. Haste, and lose no time! If +you delay you will bring mourning on your own head and disgrace on +mine!" + +In a few minutes the young man, disguised as a Wallachian peasant, was +hastening on foot across the hills of Kolozsvar. + +It was past midnight. + +The inhabitants of the Bardy castle had all retired to rest. + +The iron gate was locked and the windows barred, when suddenly the +sound of demoniac cries roused the slumberers from their dreams. + +"What is that noise?" cried Jozsef Bardy, springing from his bed, and +rushing to the window. + +"The Olahok!"[8] cried a hussar, who had rushed to his master's +apartments on hearing the sounds. + +"The Olah! the Olah!" was echoed through the corridors by the +terrified servants. + +By the light of a few torches, a hideous crowd was seen before the +windows, armed with scythes and axes, which they were brandishing with +fearful menaces. + +"Lock all the doors!" cried Jozsef Bardy, with calm presence of mind. +"Barricade the great entrance, and take the ladies and children to the +back rooms. You must not lose your heads, but all assemble together in +the turret-chamber, from whence the whole building may be protected. +And taking down two good rifles from over his bed, he hastened to his +elder brother Tamas's apartments, and overlooked the court. + +"Have you heard the noise?" asked his brother as he entered. + +"I knew it would come," he replied, and coolly continued to pace the +room. + +"And are you not preparing for defense?" + +"To what purpose?--they will kill us all. I am quite prepared for what +must inevitably happen." + +"But it will not happen if we defend ourselves courageously. We are +eight men--the walls of the castle are strong--the besiegers have no +guns, and no place to protect them; we may hold out for days until +assistance comes from Kolozsvar." + +"We shall lose," replied Tamas coldly, and without the slightest +change of countenance. + +"Then I shall defend the castle myself. I have a wife and children, +our old grandmother and our sisters are here, and I shall protect +them, if I remain alone." + +At that instant Barnabas and old Simon entered with the widowed +sister. + +Barnabas had a huge twenty-pound iron club in his hand; grinding his +teeth, and with eyes darting fire, he seemed capable of meeting +single-handed the whole troop. + +He was followed by the widow, with two loaded pistols in her hand, and +old Simon, who entreated them not to use violence or exasperate the +enemy. + +"Conduct yourselves bravely!" replied the widow dryly; "let us not die +in vain." + +"Come with me--we shall send them all to hell!" cried Barnabas, +swinging his club in his herculean arm as if it had been a reed. + +"Let us not be too hasty," interrupted Jozsef; we will stand here in +the tower, from whence we can shoot every one that approaches, and if +they break in, we can meet them on the stairs." + +"For Heaven's sake!" cried Simon, "what are you going to do? If you +kill one of them they will massacre us all. Speak to them +peaceably--promise them wine--take them to the cellar--give them +money--try to pacify them! Nephew Tamas, you will speak to them?" +continued the old man, turning to Tamas, who still paced up and down, +without the slightest visible emotion. + +"Pacification and resistance are equally vain," he replied coldly; "we +are inevitably lost!" + +"We have no time for delay," said Jozsef impatiently; "take the arms +from the wall, Barnabas, give one to each servant--let them stand at +the back windows of the house, we two are enough here. Sister, stand +between the windows, that the stones may not hit you; and when you +load, do not strike the balls too far in, that our aim may be the more +secure!" + +"No! no!--I cannot let you fire," exclaimed the old man, endeavoring +to drag Jozsef from the window. "You must not fire yet--only remain +quiet." + +"Go to the hurricane, old man! would you have us use holy water +against a shower of stones?" + +At that instant several large stones were dashed through the windows, +breaking the furniture against which they fell. + +"Only wait," said Simon, "until I speak with them. I am sure I shall +pacify them. I can speak their language and I know them all--just let +me go to them." + +"A vain idea! If you sue for mercy they will certainly kill you, but +if you show courage, you may bring them to their senses. You had +better stay and take a gun." + +But the old man was already out of hearing, and hurrying downstairs, +he went out of a back door into the court, which the Wallachians had +not yet taken possession of. + +They were endeavoring to break down one of the stone pillars of the +iron gate with their axes and hammers, and had already succeeded in +making an aperture, through which one of the gang now climbed. + +Old Simon recognized him. "Lupey, my son, what do you want here?" said +the old man. "Have we ever offended you? Do you forget all that I have +done for you?--how I cured your wife when she was so ill, and got you +off from the military; and how, when your ox died, I gave you two fine +bullocks to replace it? Do you not know me, my son Lupey?" + +"I am not your son Lupey now; I am a 'malcontent!'" cried the +Wallachian, aiming a blow with a heavy hammer at the old man's head. + +Uttering a deep groan, Simon fell lifeless to the ground. + +The rest of the party saw the scene from the tower. + +Barnabas rushed from the room like a maddened tiger, while Jozsef, +retiring cautiously behind the embrasure of the window, aimed his gun +as they were placing his uncle's head upon a spike, and shot the first +who raised it. Another seized it, and the next instant he, too, fell +to the earth; another and another, as many as attempted to raise the +head, till, finally, none dared approach. + +The widow loaded the guns while Tamas sat quietly in an armchair. + +Meanwhile Barnabas had hurried to the attic, where several large +fragments of iron had been stowed away, and dragging them to a window +which overlooked the entrance, he waited until the gang had assembled +round the door, and were trying to break in; when lifting an enormous +piece with gigantic strength, he dropped it on the heads of the +besiegers. + +Fearful cries arose and the gang, who were at the door, fled right and +left, leaving four or five of their number crushed beneath the +ponderous mass. + +The next moment they returned with redoubled fury, dashing stones +against the windows and the roof, while the door resounded with the +blows of their clubs. + +Notwithstanding the stones which were flying round him, Barnabas stood +at the window dashing heavy iron masses, and killing two or three men +every time. + +His brother meanwhile continued firing from the tower, and not a ball +was aimed in vain. The besiegers had lost a great number, and began to +fall back, after fruitless efforts to break in the door, when a +footman entered breathless to inform Barnabas that the Wallachians +were beginning to scale the opposite side of the castle with ladders, +and that the servants were unable to resist them. + +Barnabas rushed to the spot. + +Two servants lay mortally wounded in one of the back rooms, through +the windows of which the Wallachians were already beginning to enter, +while another ladder had been placed against the opposite window, +which they were beginning to scale as Barnabas entered. + +"Here, wretches!" he roared furiously, and, seizing the ladder with +both hands, shook it so violently that the men were precipitated from +it, and then lifting it with supernatural strength, he dashed it +against the opposite one, which broke with the force of the weight +thrown against it, the upper part falling backwards with the men upon +it, while one of the party remained hanging from the window-sill, and, +after immense exertions to gain a footing, he too fell to the earth. + +Barnabas rushed into the next room grinding his teeth, his lips +foaming, and his face of a livid hue; so appalling was his appearance; +that one of the gang, who had been the first to enter by the window, +turned pale with terror, and dropped his axe. + +Taking advantage of this, Barnabas darted on his enemy, and dragging +him with irresistible force to the window, he dashed him from it. + +"On here! as many as you are!" he shouted furiously, the blood gushing +from his mouth from the blow of a stone. "On! all who wish a fearful +death!" + +At that instant, a shriek of terror rose within the house. + +The Wallachians had discovered the little back door which Simon had +left open, and, stealing through it, were already inside the house, +when the shrieks of a servant girl gave the besieged notice of their +danger. + +Barnabas, seizing his club, hurried in the direction of the sounds; he +met his brother on the stairs, who had likewise heard the cry, and +hastened thither with his gun in his hand, accompanied by the widow. + +"Go, sister!" said Jozsef, "take my wife and children to the attics; +we will try to guard the staircase step by step. Kiss them all for me. +If we die, the villains will put us all in one grave--we shall meet +again!" + +The widow retired. + +The two brothers silently pressed hands, and then, standing on the +steps, awaited their enemies. They did not wait long. + +The bloodhounds with shouts of vengeance rushed on the narrow stone +stairs. + +"Hah! thus near I love to have you, dogs of hell!" cried Barnabas, +raising his iron club with both hands, and dealing such blows right +and left, that none whom it reached rose again. The stairs were +covered with the dead and wounded, while their death cries, and the +sound of the heavy club, echoed fearfully through the vaulted +building. + +The foremost of the gang retreated as precipitately as they had +advanced, but were continually pressed forward again by the members +from behind, while Barnabas drove them back unweariedly, cutting an +opening through them with the blows of his club. + +He had already beaten them back nearly to the bottom of the stairs, +when one of the gang, who had concealed himself in a niche, pierced +him through the back with a spike. + +Dashing his club amongst the retreating crowd, he turned with a cry of +rage, and seizing his murderer by the shoulders, dragged him down with +him to the ground. + +The first four who rushed to help the murderer were shot dead by +Jozsef Bardy, who, when he had fired off both his muskets, still +defended his prostrated brother with the butt-end of one, until he was +overpowered and disarmed; after which a party of them carried him out +to the iron cross, and crucified him on it amidst the most shocking +tortures. + +On trying to separate the other brother from his murderer, they found +them both dead. With his last strength Barnabas had choked his enemy, +whom he still held firmly in his deadly grip, and they were obliged to +cut off his hand in order to disengage the Wallachian's body. + +Tamas, the eldest brother, now alone survived. Seated in his armchair +he calmly awaited his enemies, with a large silver chandelier burning +on the table before him. + +As the noise approached his chamber, he drew from its jeweled sheath +his broad curved sword, and, placing it on the table before him, +proceeded coolly to examine the ancient blade, which was inscribed +with unknown characters. + +At last the steps were at the door; the handle was turned--it had not +even been locked. + +The magnate rose, and, taking his sword from the table, he stood +silently and calmly before the enemies, who rushed upon him with +fearful oaths, brandishing their weapons still reeking with the blood +of his brothers. + +The nobleman stood motionless as a statue until they came within two +paces of him, when suddenly the bright black steel gleamed above his +head, and the foremost man fell at his feet with his skull split to +the chin. The next received a deep gash in the shoulder of his +outstretched arm, but not a word escaped the magnate's lips, his +countenance retained its cold and stern expression as he looked at his +enemies in calm disdain, as if to say, "Even in combat a nobleman is +worth ten boors." + +Warding off with the skill of a professed swordsman every blow aimed +at him, he coolly measured his own thrusts, inflicting severe wounds +on his enemies' faces and heads; but the more he evaded them the more +furious they became. At last he received a severe wound in the leg +from a scythe, and feel on one knee; but without evincing the +slightest pain, he still continued fighting with the savage mob, +until, after a long and obstinate struggle, he fell without a murmur, +or even a death-groan. + +The enraged gang cut his body to pieces, and in a few minutes they had +hoisted his head on his own sword. Even then the features retained +their haughty, contemptuous expression. + +He was the last man of the family with whom they had to combat, but +more than a hundred of their own band lay stretched in the court and +before the windows, covering the stairs and rooms with heaps of +bodies, and when the shouts of triumph ceased for an instant, the +groans of the wounded and the dying were heard from every side. + +None now remained but women and children. When the Wallachians broke +into the castle, the widow had taken them all to the attics, leaving +the door open, that her brothers might find refuge in case they were +forced to retreat; and here the weaker members of the family awaited +the issue of the combat which was to bring them life or death, +listening breathlessly to the uproar, and endeavoring, from its +confused sounds, to determine good or evil. + +At last the voices died away, and the hideous cries of the besiegers +ceased. The trembling women believed that the Wallachians had been +driven out, and, breathing more freely, each awaited with impatience +the approach of brother--husband--sons. + +At last a heavy step was heard on the stairs leading to the garret. + +"This is Barnabas's step!" cried the widow, joyfully, and still +holding the pistols in her hand, she ran to the door of the garret. + +Instead of her expected brother, a savage form, drunken with blood, +strode towards her, his countenance burning with rage and triumph. + +The widow started back, uttering a shriek of terror, and then with +that unaccountable courage of desperation, she aimed one of the +pistols at the Wallachian's breast, who instantly fell backwards on +one of his comrades, who followed close behind. The other pistol she +discharged into her own bosom. + +And now we must draw a veil over the scene that followed. What +happened there must not be witnessed by human eyes. + +Suffice it to say, they murdered every one, women and children, with +the most refined and brutal cruelty, and then threw their dead bodies +out of the window from which Barnabas had dashed down the iron +fragments on the besiegers' heads. + +They left the old grandmother to the last, that she might witness the +extermination of her whole family. Happily for her, her eyes had +ceased to distinguish the light of sun, and ere long the light of an +eternal glory had risen upon them. + +The Wallachians then dug a common grave for the bodies, and threw them +all in together. The little one, whom his parents loved so well, they +cast in alive, his nurse having escaped from the attics and carried +him downstairs, where they had been overtaken by the savages. + +"There are only eleven here!" cried one of the gang, who had counted +the bodies, "one of them must be still alive somewhere--there ought to +be twelve!" And then they once more rushed through the empty rooms, +overturning all the furniture, and cutting up and breaking everything +they met with. They searched the garrets and every corner of the +cellars, but without success. + +At last a yell of triumph was heard. One of them had discovered a door +which, being painted of the same color as the walls, had hitherto +escaped their observation. It concealed a small apartment in the +turret. With a few blows of their axes it was broken open, and they +rushed in. + +"Ah! a rare booty!" cried the foremost of the ruffians, while, with +bloodthirsty curiosity, the others pressed round to see the new +victim. + +There lay the little orphan with the golden hair; her eyes were closed +and a death-like hue had overspread her beautiful features. + +Her aunt; with an instinctive foreboding, had concealed her here when +she took the others to the attic. + +The orphan grasped a sharp knife in her hand, with which she had +attempted to kill herself; and when her fainting hands refused the +fearful service, she had swooned in despair. + +"Ah!" cried the Wallachians, in savage admiration, their bloodthirsty +countenances assuming a still more hellish expression. + +"This is a common booty!" cried several voices together. + +"A beautiful girl! A noble lady! ha, ha! She will just suit the +tattered Wallachians!" And with their foul and bloody hands, they +seized the young girl by her fair slight arms. + +"Ha! what is going on here?" thundered a voice from behind. + +The Wallachians looked round. + +A figure stood among them fully a head taller than all the rest. He +wore a brass helmet, in which a deep cleft was visible, and held in +his left hand a Roman sword. His features bore the ancient Roman +character. + +"The Decurio!" they murmured, making way for him. + +"What is going on here?" he repeated; and seizing the fainting girl in +the arms of a Wallachian, he ordered him to lay her down. + +"She is one of our enemies," replied the savage insolently. + +"Silence, knave! Does one of the Roumin nation seek enemies in women? +Lay her down instantly." + +"Not so, leader," interrupted Lupey; "our laws entitle us to a +division of the spoil. This girl is our booty; she belongs to us after +the victory." + +"I know our laws better than you do, churl! Due division of spoil is +just and fair; but we cast lots for what cannot be divided." + +"True, leader: a horse or an ox cannot be divided, and for them we +cast lots, but in this case--" + +"I have said it cannot, and I should like to know who dares to say it +can!" + +Lupey knew the Decurio too well to proffer another syllable, and the +rest turned silently from the girl; one voice alone was heard to +exclaim, "It can!" + +"Who dares to say that?" cried the Decurio; "let him come forward!" + +A young Wallachian, with long plaited hair, confronted the Decurio. He +was evidently intoxicated, and replied, striking his breast with his +fist: "I said so." + +Scarcely had the words escaped his lips, than the Decurio, raising his +left hand, severed the contradictor's head at one stroke from his +body; and as it fell back, the lifeless trunk dropped on its knees +before the Decurio, with its arms around him, as if in supplication. + +"Dare anyone still say it can?" asked Numa, with merciless rigor. + +The Wallachians turned silently away. + +"Put the horses immediately to the carriage; the girl must be placed +in it, and brought to Topanfalvo. Whoever has the good fortune of +winning her, has a right to receive her as I confide her to you; but +if anyone of you should dare to offend her in the slightest degree, +even by a look or a smile, remember this and take example from it," +continued the Decurio, pointing with his sword to the headless body of +the young man. "And now you may go--destroy and pillage." + +At these words the band scattered right and left, the Decurio with the +fainting girl, whom he lifted into the carriage and confided to some +faithful retainers cf the family, pointing out the road across the +hills. + +In half an hour the castle was in flames and the Wallachians, +descending into the cellars, had knocked out the bottoms of the casks, +and bathed in the sea of flowing wine and brandy, singing wild songs, +while the fire burst from every window enveloping the blackened walls; +after which the revelers departed, leaving their dead, and those who +were too helplessly intoxicated to follow them. + +Meanwhile they brought the young girl to the Decurio's house, and as +each man considered that he had an equal right to the prize, they kept +a vigilant eye upon her, and none dared offend her so much as by a +look. + +When the Decurio arrived, they all crowded into the house with him, +filling the rooms, as well as the entrance and porch. + +Having laid out the spoil before them on the ground, the leader +proceeded to divide it into equal shares, retaining for himself a +portion of ten men, after which most of the band dispersed to their +homes; but a good many remained, greedily eyeing their still +unappropriated victim, who lay pale and motionless as the dead on the +couch of lime-boughs where they had laid her. + +"You are waiting, I suppose, to cast lots for the girl?" said Numa +dryly. + +"Certainly," replied Lupey, with an insolent leer; "and his she will +be who casts highest. If two, or ten, or twenty of us should cast the +same, we have an equal right to her." + +"I tell you only one can have her," interrupted Numa sternly. + +"Then those who win must cast again among each other." + +"Casting the die will not do; we may throw all day long, and two may +remain at the end." + +"Well, let us play cards for her." + +"I cannot allow that, the more cunning will deceive the simpler." + +"Well, write our names upon bricks, and throw them all into a barrel; +and whichever name you draw will take away the girl." + +"I can say what name I please, for none of you can read." + +The Wallachian shook his head impatiently. + +"Well, propose something yourself, Decurio." + +"I will. Let us try which of us can give the best proof of courage and +daring; and whoever can do that, shall have the girl, for he best +deserves her." + +"Well said!" cried the men unanimously. "Let us each relate what we +have done, and then you can judge which among us is the boldest." + +"I killed the first Bardy in the court in sight of his family." + +"I broke in the door, when that terrible man was dashing down the iron +on our heads." + +"But it was I who pierced his heart." + +"I mounted the stairs first." + +"I fought nearly half an hour with the noble in the cloth of gold." + +And thus they continued. Each man, according to his own account, was +the first and the bravest--each had performed miracles of valor. + +"You have all behaved with great daring, but it is impossible now to +prove what has happened. The proof must be given here, by all of us +together, before my eyes, indisputably." + +"Well, tell us how," said Lupey impatiently, always fearing that the +Decurio was going to deceive them. + +"Look here," said Numa, drawing a small cask from beneath the bed--and +in doing so he observed that the young girl half opened her eyes, as +she glanced at him, and then closed them. She was awake, and had heard +all. + +As he stooped down, Numa whispered gently in her ear: "Fear nothing," +and then drew the cask into the middle of the room. + +The Wallachians stared with impatient curiosity as he knocked out the +bottom of the cask with a hatchet. + +"This cask contains gunpowder," continued Decurio. "We will light a +match and place it in the middle of the cask, and whoever remains +longest in the room is undoubtedly the most courageous; for there is +enough here to blow up not only this house, but the whole of the +neighboring village." + +At this proposition several of the men began to murmur. + +"If any are afraid they are not obliged to remain," said the Decurio +dryly. + +"I agree," said Lupey doggedly. "I will remain here; and perhaps, +after all, it is poppy-seeds you have got there--it looks very much +like them." + +The Decurio stooped down, and taking a small quantity between his +fingers, threw it into the Wallachian's pipe, which immediately +exploded, causing him to stagger backwards, and the next instant he +stood with a blackened visage, sans beard and moustache, amidst the +jeers and laughter of his comrades. + +This only exasperated him the more. + +"I will stay for all that!" he exclaimed; and lifting up the pipe +which he had dropped, he walked over and lit it at the burning match +which the Decurio was placing in the cask. + +Upon this, two-thirds of the men left the room. + +The rest assembled around the cask with much noise and bravado, +swearing by heaven and earth that they would stay until the match +burned out; but the more they swore, the more they looked at the +burning match, the flame of which was slowly approaching the +gunpowder. + +For some minutes their courage remained unshaken, but after that they +ceased to boast, and began to look at each other in silent +consternation, while their faces grew paler every instant. At last one +or two rose and stood aloof; the others followed their example, and +some grinding their teeth with rage, others chattering with terror, +they all began to leave the room. + +Only two remained beside the cask; Numa, who stood with his arms +folded leaning against the foot of the bed; and Lupey, who was sitting +on the iron of the cask with his back turned to the danger, and +smoking furiously. + +As soon as they were alone, the latter glanced behind him and saw the +flame was within an inch of the powder. + +"I'll tell you what, Decurio," he said, springing up, "we are only two +left, don't let us make food of each other; let us come to an +understanding on this matter." + +"If you are tired of waiting, I can press the match lower." + +"This is no jest, Numa; you are risking your own life. How can you +wish to send us both to hell for the sake of a pale girl? But I'll +tell you what--I'll give her up to you if you will only promise that +she shall be mine when you are tired of her." + +"Remain here and win her--if you dare." + +"To what purpose?" said the Wallachian, in a whining voice, and in his +impatience he began to tear his clothes and stamp with his feet, like +a petted child. + +"What I have said stands good," said the Decurio; "whoever remains +longest has the sole right to the lady." + +"Well, I will stay, of course; but what do I gain by it? I know you +will stay, too, and then the devil will have us both; and I speak not +only for myself when I say I do not wish that." + +"If you do not wish it, you had better be gone." + +"Well, I don't care--if you will give me a golden mark." + +"Not the half; stay if you like it." + +"Decurio, this is madness! The flame will reach the powder +immediately." + +"I see it." + +"Well, say a dollar." + +"Not a whit." + +"May the seventy-seven limited thunder-bolt strike you on St. +Michael's Day!" roared the Wallachian fiercely, as he rushed to the +door; but after he had gone out, he once more thrust his head in and +cried: "Will you give even a florin? I am not gone yet." + +"Nor have I removed the match; you may come back." The Wallachian +slammed the door, and ran for his life, till exhausted and breathless +he sank under a tree, where he lay with his tunic over his head, and +his ears covered with his hands, only now and then raising his head +nervously, to listen for the awful explosion which was to blow up the +world. + +Meanwhile Numa coolly removed the match, which was entirely burnt +down; and throwing it into the grate, he stepped over to the bed and +whispered into the young girl's ear: "You are free!" + +Trembling, she raised herself in the bed and taking the Decurio's +large, sinewy hands within her own, she murmured: "Be merciful! O hear +my prayer, and kill me!" + +The Decurio stroked the fair hair of the lovely suppliant. + +"Poor child!" he replied gently; "you have nothing to fear; nobody +will hurt you now." + +"You have saved me from these fearful people--now save me from +yourself!" + +"You have nothing to fear from me," replied the Dacian, proudly; "I +fight for liberty alone, and you may rest as securely within my +threshold as on the steps of the altar. When I am absent you need have +no anxiety, for these walls are impregnable, and if anyone should dare +offend you by the slightest look, that moment shall be the last of his +mortal career. And when I am at home you have nothing to fear, for +woman's image never dwelt within my heart. Accept my poor couch, and +may your rest be sweet!--Imre Bardy slept on it last night." + +"Imre!" exclaimed the starting girl. "You have seen him, then?--oh! +where is he!" + +The Decurio hesitated. "He should not have delayed so long," he +murmured, pressing his hand against his brow; "all would have been +otherwise." + +"Oh! let me go to him; if you know where he is." + +"I do not know, but I am certain he will come here if he is +alive--indeed he must come." + +"Why do you think that?" + +"Because he will seek you." + +"Did he then speak--before you?" + +"As he lay wounded on that couch, he pronounced your name in his +dreams. Are you not that Jolanka Bardy whom they call 'The Angel'? I +knew you by your golden locks." + +The young girl cast down her eyes. "Then you think he will come?" she +said in a low voice. "And my relations?" + +"He will come as soon as possible; and now you must take some food and +rest. Do not think about your relations now; they are all in a safe +place--nobody can hurt them more." + +The Decurio brought some refreshment, laid a small prayer-book on the +pillow, and left the orphan by herself. + +The poor girl opened the prayer-book, and her tears fell like +rain-drops on the blessed page; but, overcome by the fatigue and +terror she had undergone, her head ere long sank gently back, and she +slept calmly and sweetly the sleep of exhausted innocence. + +As evening closed, the Decurio returned, and softly approaching the +bed, looked long and earnestly at the fair sleeper's face, until two +large tears stood unconsciously in his eyes. + +The Roumin hastily brushed away the unwonted moisture, and as if +afraid of the feeling which had stolen into his breast, he hastened +from the room, and laid himself upon his woolen rug before the open +door. + +The deserted castle still burned on, shedding a ghastly light on the +surrounding landscape, while the deepest silence reigned around, only +broken now and then by an expiring groan, or the hoarse song of a +drunken reveler. + +Day was beginning to dawn as a troop of horsemen galloped furiously +towards the castle from the direction of Kolozsvar. + +They were Imre and his comrades. + +Silently and anxiously they pursued their course, their eyes fixed +upon one point, as they seemed to fly rather than gallop along the +road. "We are too late!" exclaimed one of the party at last, pointing +to a dim red smoke along the horizon. "Your castle is burning!" + +Without returning an answer, Imre spurred his panting horse to a +swifter pace. A turn in the road suddenly brought the castle to their +view, its blackened walls still burning, while red smoke rose high +against the side of the hill. + +The young man uttered a fierce cry of despair, and galloped madly down +the declivity. In less than a quarter of an hour he stood before the +ruined walls. + +"Where is my father? where are my family? where is my bride?" he +shrieked in frantic despair, brandishing his sword over the head of a +half-drunken Wallachian, who was leaning against the ruined portico. + +The latter fell to his knees, imploring mercy, and declaring that it +was not he who killed them. + +"Then they are dead!" exclaimed the unhappy youth, as, half-choked by +his sobs, he fell forward on his horse's neck. + +Meanwhile his companions had ridden up, and immediately sounded the +Wallachian, whom, but for Imre's interference, they would have cut +down. + +"Lead us to where you have buried them. Are they all dead?" he +continued; "have you not left one alive? Accursed be the sun that +rises after such a night!" + +The Wallachian pointed to a large heap of fresh-raised mould. "They +are all there!" he said. + +Imre fell from his horse without another word, as if struck down. + +His companions removed him to a little distance, where the grass was +least red. + +They then began to dig twelve graves with their swords. + +Imre watched them in silence. He seemed unconscious what they were +about. + +When they had finished the graves they proceeded to open the large +pit, but the sight was too horrible, and they carried Imre away by +force. He could not have looked on what was there and still retain his +senses. + +In a short time, one of his comrades approached and told him that +there were only eleven bodies in the grave. + +"Then one of them must be alive!" cried Imre, a slight gleam of hope +passing over his pale features; "which is it?--speak! Is there not a +young girl with golden locks among them?" + +"I know not," stammered his comrade, in great embarrassment. + +"You do not know?--go and look again." His friend hesitated. + +"Let me go--I must know," said Imre impatiently, as the young man +endeavored to detain him. + +"O stay, Imre, you cannot look on them; they are all headless!" + +"My God!" exclaimed the young man, covering his face with both hands, +and, bursting into tears he threw himself down with his face upon the +earth. + +His comrades questioned the Wallachian closely as to what he knew +about the young girl. First he returned no answer, pretending to be +drunk and not to understand: + +But on their promising to spare his life, on the sole condition that +he would speak the truth, he confessed that she had been carried away +to the mountains, where the band were to cast lots for her. + +"I must go!" said Imre, starting as if in a trance. + +"Whither?" inquired his comrades. + +"To seek her! Take off your dress," he continued, turning to the +Wallachian, "you may have mine in exchange," and, hastily putting on +the tunic, he concealed his pistols in the girdle beneath it. + +"We will follow you," said his comrades, taking up their arms; "we +will seek her from village to village." + +"No, no, I must go alone! I shall find her more easily alone. If I do +not return, avenge this for me," he said, pointing to the moat; then, +turning to the Wallachian, he added sternly: "I have found beneath +your girdle a gold medallion, which my grandmother wore suspended from +her neck, and by which I know you to be one of her murderers, and, had +I not promised to spare your life, you should now receive the +punishment that you deserve. Keep him here," he said to his comrades, +"until I have crossed the hills, and then let him go." + +And taking leave of his friends, he cast one glance at the eleven +heaps, and at the burning castle of his ancestors, and hastened toward +the mountains. + +The hoary autumn nights had dyed the leaves of the forest. The whole +country looked as if it had been washed in blood. + +Deep amidst the wildest forest the path suddenly descends into a +narrow valley, surrounded by steep rocks at the foot of which lies a +little village half concealed among the trees. + +It seemed as if the settlers there had only cleared sufficient ground +to build their dwellings, leaving all the rest a dense forest. Apart +from the rest, on the top of a rock, stood a cottage, which, unlike +others, was constructed entirely of large blocks of stone, and only +approachable by a small path cut in the rock. + +A young man ascended this path. He was attired in a peasant's garb and +although he evidently had traveled far, his step was light and fleet. +When he had ascended about halfway, he was suddenly stopped by an +armed Wallachian, who had been kneeling before a shrine in the rock, +and seeing the stranger, rose and stood in his path. + +The latter pronounced the Decurio's name, and produced his paszura. + +The Wallachian examined it on every side, and then stepped back to let +the stranger pass, after which he once more laid down his scythe and +cap, and knelt before the shrine. + +The stranger knocked at the Decurio's door, which was locked, and an +armed Wallachian appeared from behind the rocks, and informed him that +the Decurio was not at home, only his wife. + +"His wife?" exclaimed the stranger in surprise. + +"Yes, that pale girl who fell to him by lot." + +"And she is his wife." + +"He told us so himself, and swore that if any of us dared so much as +lift his eye upon her, he would send him to St. Nicholas in paradise." + +"Can I not see her?" + +"I would not advise you; for if the Decurio hears of it, he will make +halves of you; but you may go around to the window if you like--only +let me get out of the way first, that the Decurio may not find me +here." + +The stranger hastened to the window, and looking in, he saw the young +girl seated on an armchair made of rough birch boughs, with a little +prayer-book on her knee; her fair arm supporting her head, while a +mass of golden ringlets half veiled her face, which was as pale as an +alabaster statue; the extreme sadness of its expression rendering her +beauty still more touching. + +"Jolanka!" exclaimed the stranger passionately. + +She started at the well-known voice, and, uttering a cry of joy, +rushed to the window. + +"Oh, Imre!" she murmured, "are you come at last!" + +"Can I not enter? can I not speak with you?" + +The young girl hastened to unbar the door, which was locked on the +inside, and as Imre entered she threw herself into his arms, while he +pressed her fondly to his heart. + +The Wallachian, who had stolen to the window, stood aghast with terror +and, soon as the Decurio arrived, he ran to meet him, and related, +with vehement gesticulations, how the girl had thrown herself into the +peasant's arms. + +"And how did you know that?" asked Numa coldly. + +"I saw them through the window." + +"And dared you look through my window? Did I not forbid you? Down on +your knees, and pray!" + +The Wallachian fell on his knees, and clasped his hands. + +"Rebel! you deserve your punishment of death for having disobeyed my +commands; and if you ever dare to open your lips on the subject, +depend upon it, you shall not escape!" And with these words he strode +away, leaving the astonished informer on his knees, in which posture +he remained for some time afterwards, not daring to raise his head +until the Decurio's steps had died away. + +As Numa entered the house, the lovers hastened to meet him. For an +instant or two he stood at the threshold, regarding the young man with +a look of silent reproach. "Why did you come so late?" he asked. + +Imre held out his hand, but the Decurio did not accept it. + +"The blood of your family is on my hand," he whispered. "You have let +dishonor come on me, and mourning on yourself." + +The young man's head sunk on his breast in silent anguish. + +"Take his hand," said Jolanka, in her low, sweet accents; and then +turning to Imre, "He saved your life--he saved us both, and he will +rescue our family, too." + +Imre looked at her in astonishment. + +The Decurio seized his arms and drew him aside. "She does not know +that they are dead," he whispered; "she was not with them, and knows +nothing of their fate; and I have consoled her with the idea that they +are all prisoners, she must never know the horrors of that fearful +night." + +"But sooner or later she will hear it." + +"Never! you must leave the place and the kingdom. You must go to +Turkey." + +"My way lies towards Hungary." + +"You must not think of it. Evil days await that country; your prophets +do not see them, but I know, and see them clearly. Go to Turkey; I +will give you letters by which you may pass in security through +Wallachia and Moldavia; and here is a purse of gold--do not scruple to +accept it, for it is your own, it belonged to _them_. Promise me, for +her sake," he continued earnestly, pointing to Jolanka, "that you will +not go to Hungary." + +Imre hesitated. "I cannot promise what I am not sure I shall fulfill; +but I shall remember your advice." + +Numa took the hands of the two lovers, and, gazing long and earnestly +on their faces, he said, in a voice of deep feeling, "You love one +another?" + +They pressed his hand in silence. + +"You will be happy--you will forget your misfortunes. God bless and +guide you on your way! Take these letters, and keep the direct road to +Brasso,[9] by the Saxon-land.[10] You will find free passage +everywhere, and never look behind until the last pinnacles of the +snowy mountains are beyond your sight. Go! we will not take leave, not +a word, let us forget each other!" + +The Decurio watched the lovers until they were out of sight; and +called to them, even when they could hear him no longer: "Do not go +towards Hungary." + +He then entered his house. The prayer-book lay open as the young girl +had left it; the page was still damp with her tears. Numa's hand +trembled, as he kissed the volume fervently and placed it in his +bosom. + +When night came on, the Roumin lay down on his wolf-skin couch, where +the golden-haired maiden, and her lover before her, had slept, but it +seemed as if they had stolen his rest--he could not close his eyes +there, so he rose and went out on the porch, where he spread his rug +before the open door; but it was long ere he could sleep--there was an +unwonted feeling at his heart, something like happiness, yet +inexpressibly sad; and, buried in deep reverie, he lay with his eyes +fixed on the dark blue starry vault above him till past midnight. +Suddenly he thought he heard the report of some fire-arms at a great +distance, and at the same moment two stars sank beneath the horizon. +Numa thought of the travelers, and a voice seemed to whisper, "They +are now happy!" + +The moon had risen high in the heavens, when the Decurio was roused +from his sleep by heavy footsteps, and five or six Wallachians, among +whom was Lupey, stood before him. + +"We have brought two enemies' heads," said the latter, with a dark +look at the Decurio; "pay us their worth!" and taking two heads from +his pouch he laid them on Numa's mat. + +The Wallachians watched their leader's countenance with sharp, +suspicious glances. + +Numa recognized the two heads by the light of the moon. They were +those of Imre and Jolanka, but his features did not betray the +slightest emotion. + +"You will know them probably," continued Lupey. "The young magnate, +who escaped us at the pass, came for the girl in your absence, and at +the same time stole your money, and, what is more, we found your +paszura upon him also." + +"Who killed them?" asked the Decurio, in his usual calm voice. + +"None of us," replied the Wallachian; "as we rushed upon them, the +young magnate drew two pistols from his girdle, and shot the girl +through the head first, and himself afterwards." + +"Were you all there?" + +"And more of us besides." + +"Go back and bring the rest. I will divide the money you have found on +them among you. Make haste; and should one of you remain behind, his +share will be divided among the rest." + +The Wallachians hastened to seek their comrades with cries of joy. + +The Decurio then locked the door, and, throwing himself upon the +ground beside the two heads, he kissed them a hundred times, and +sobbed like a child. + +"I warned you not to go toward Hungary!" he said bitterly. "Why did +you not hear me, unhappy children? why did you not take my word?" and +he wept over his enemies' heads as if he had been their father. + +He then rose, his eyes darting fire, and, shaking his terrible fist, +he cried, in a voice hoarse with rage: "Czine mintye!"[11] + +In a few hours, the Wallachians had assembled before the Decurio's +house. They were about fifty or sixty, all wild, fearful-looking men. + +Numa covered the two heads with a cloth, and laid them on the bed, +after which he opened the door. + +Lupey entered last. + +"Lock the door," said Numa, when they were all in; "we must not be +interrupted;" and, making them stand in a circle, he looked around at +them all, one by one. + +"Are you all here?" he asked at last. + +"Not one is absent." + +"Do you consider yourselves all equally deserving of sharing _the +booty_?" + +"All of us." + +"It was you," he continued to Lupey, "who struck down the old man?" + +"It was." + +"And you who pierced the magnate with a spike?" + +"You are right, leader." + +"And you really killed all the women in the castle?" turning to a +third. + +"With my own hand." + +"And one and all of you can boast of having massacred, and plundered, +and set on fire?" + +"All! all!" they cried, striking their breasts. + +"Do not lie before Heaven. See! your wives are listening at the window +to what you say, and will betray you if you do not speak the truth." + +"We speak the truth!" + +"It is well!" said the leader, as he calmly approached the bed; and, +seating himself on it, uncovered the two heads and placed them on his +knee. "Where did you put their bodies?" he asked. + +"We cut them in pieces and strewed them on the highroad." + +There was a short silence. Numa's breathing became more and more +oppressed, and his large chest heaved convulsively. "Have you prayed +yet?" he asked in an altered voice. + +"Not yet, leader. What should we pray for?" said Lupey. + +"Fall down on your knees and pray, for this is the last morning which +will dawn on any of you again." + +"Are you in your senses, leader? What are you going to do?" + +"I am going to purge the Roumin nation of a set of ruthless murderers +and brigands. Miserable wretches; instead of glory, you have brought +dishonor and disgrace upon our arms wherever you have appeared. While +the brave fought on the field of battle, you slaughtered their wives +and children; while they risked their lives before the cannon's mouth +you attacked the house of the sleepers and robbed and massacred the +helpless and the innocent. Fall down on your knees and pray for your +souls, for the angel of death stands over you, to blot out your memory +from among the Roumin people!" + +The last words were pronounced in a fearful tone. Numa was no longer +the cold unmoved statue he had hitherto appeared, he was like a fiery +genius of wrath, whose very breath was destruction. + +The Wallachians fell upon their knees in silent awe, while the women +who had been standing outside, rushed shrieking down the rocks. + +The Decurio drew a pistol from his breast, and approached the cask of +gunpowder. + +With a fearful howl, they rushed upon him; the shriek of despair was +heard for an instant, then the terrible explosion which caused the +rocks to tremble, while the flames rose with a momentary flash amidst +clouds of dust and smoke, scaring the beasts of the forest, and +scattering stones and beams, and hundreds of dismembered limbs, far +through the valley, and over the houses of the terrified inhabitants! + +When the smoke had dissipated, a heap of ruins stood in the place of +Numa's dwelling. + +The sun rose and smiled upon the earth, which was strewed with the +last leaves of autumn, but where were those who had assembled at the +spring-time of the year? + +The evening breezes whispered mournfully through the ruined walls, and +strewed the faded leaves upon eleven grassy mounds. + +The pen trembles in my hand--my heart sickens at the recital of such +misery. + +Would that I could believe it an imagination--the ghostly horror of a +fevered brain! + +Would that I could bid my gentle readers check the falling tear or +tell them: "Start not with horror; it is but romance--the creation of +some fearful dream--let us awake and see it no more!" + +FOOTNOTES TO _THIRTEEN AT TABLE_: + +[1: There is a race of the Hungarians in the Carpath who, unlike the +Hungarians of the plain, have blue eyes and often fair hair.] + +[2: Part of the free corps raised in 1848.] + +[3: Blue and gold are the colors of Transylvania.] + +[4: Transylvania.] + +[5: Klausenburg.] + +[6: The Wallachians were, in the days of Trajan, subdued by the +Romans, with whom they became intermixed, and are also called Roumi.] + +[7: Everything on which a double-headed eagle--the emblem of the +Austrian Government--was painted, engraved or sculptured, the +Wallachians called paszura.] + +[8: Olah, Wallachian--ok, plural.] + +[9: Brasso, or Kyonstadt, a town in the southeast of Transylvania, on +the frontier of Wallachia.] + +[10: A district inhabited by a colony of Saxons.] + +[11: Czine mintye!--A Wallachian term signifying revenge.] + + + +ÉTIENNE BÁRSONY + + +_THE DANCING BEAR_ + + +Fife and drum were heard from the big market-place. + +People went running towards it. In a village the slightest unusual +bustle makes a riot. Everybody is curious to know the cause of the +alarm, and whether the wheels of the world are running out of their +orbit. In the middle of the great dusty market-place some stunted +locust trees were hanging their faint, dried foliage, and from far off +one could already see that underneath these miserable trees a tall, +handsome, young man and a huge, plump dark-brown, growling bear were +hugging each other. + +Joco, the bear-leader, was giving a performance. His voice rang like a +bugle-horn, and, singing his melancholy songs, he from time to time +interrupted himself and hurrahed, whereupon the bear began to spring +and roar angrily. The two stamped their feet, holding close together, +like two tipsy comrades. But the iron-weighted stick in the young +man's hand made it evident that the gigantic beast was quite capable +of causing trouble, and was only restrained from doing so because it +had learnt from experience that the least outbreak never failed to +bring down vengeance upon its back. The bear was a very powerful +specimen from Bosnia, with thick brown fur and a head as broad as a +bull's. When he lifted himself up on his hind legs he was half a head +taller than Joco, his master. + +The villagers stood round them with anxious delight, and animated the +bear with shouts of "Jump, Ibrahim! Hop, Ibrahim!" but nobody ventured +to go near. Joco was no stranger to these people. After every harvest +he visited the rich villages of Bánát with his bear. They knew that he +was a native of the frontier of Slavonia, and they were not +particularly keen to know anything else about him. A man who leads +such a vagrant life does not stay long in any one place, and has +neither friends nor foes anywhere. They supposed that he spent part of +the year in Bosnia, perhaps the winter, visiting, one after the other, +the Servian monasteries. Now, in midsummer, when he was least to be +expected, they suddenly hear his fife and drum. + +Ibrahim, the big old bear, roused the whole village in less than a +quarter of an hour with his far-reaching growls. The dogs crouched +horror-struck, their hair standing on end, barking at him in fear and +trembling. + +When Joco stopped at some street corner, or in the market-place, and +began to beat his rattling drum, the bear lifted himself with heavy +groans on his hind legs, and then the great play began, the cruel +amusement, the uncanny, fearful embracings which one could never be +sure would not end fatally. For Joco is not satisfied to let Ibrahim +jump and dance, but, whistling and singing, grasps the wild beast's +skin, and squeezes his paws; and so the two dance together, the one +roaring and groaning, the other singing with monotonous voice a +melancholy song. + +The company of soldiers stationed in the village was just returning +from drill, and Captain Winter, Ritter von Wallishausen, turned in +curiosity his horse's head towards the crowd, and made a sign to +Lieutenant Vig to lead the men on. His fiery half-blood Graditz horse +snuffed the disgusting odor of the wild beast, and would go no nearer. + +The Captain called a hussar from the last line that passed him, and +confided the stubborn horse to his charge. Then he bent his steps +towards the swaying crowd. The villagers opened out a way for him, and +soon the Captain stood close behind the bear-leader. But before he +could fix his eyes on Ibrahim they were taken captive by something +else. + +A few steps away from Joco a young girl sat upon the ground, gently +stroking a light-colored little bear. They were both so huddled up +together that the villagers scarcely noticed them, and the Captain was +therefore all the better able to observe the young woman, who appeared +to be withdrawing herself as much as possible from public gaze. And +really she seemed to be an admirable young creature. She was slight of +build, perhaps not yet fully developed, with the early ripeness of the +Eastern beauty expressed in face and figure--a black cherry, at sight +of which the mouth of such a gourmand as the Ritter von Wallishausen +would naturally water! Her fine face seemed meant only to be the +setting of her two black eyes. She wore a shirt of coarse linen, a +frock of many-colored material, and a belt around her waist. Her +beautifully formed bosom, covered only by the shirt, rose and fell in +goddesslike shamelessness. A string of glass beads hung round her +neck, and two long earrings tapped her cheeks at every movement. She +made no effort to hide her bare feet, but now and then put back her +untidy but beautiful black hair from her forehead and eyes; for it was +so thick that if she did not do so she could not see. + +The girl felt that the Captain's fiery gaze was meant for her and not +for the little bear. She became embarrassed, and instinctively turned +her head away. Just at this moment Joco turned round with Ibrahim. The +tall Servian peasant let the whistle fall from his hand, and the wild +dance came to an end. Ibrahim understood that the performance was +over, and, putting down his front paws on the ground, licked, as he +panted, the strong iron bars of his muzzle. + +The Captain and Joco looked at each other. The powerful young +bear-leader was as pale as death. He trembled as if something terrible +had befallen him. Captain Winter looked at him searchingly. Where, he +asked himself, had he met this man? + +The villagers did not understand what was going on, and began to +shout, "Zorka! Now, Zorka, it is your turn with Mariska." The cries of +the villagers brought Joco to himself, and with a motion worthy of a +player he roused the little bear to its feet. Then he made signs to +the girl. Being too excited to blow his whistle, he started singing +and beating the drum; but his voice trembled so much that by and by he +left off singing and let the girl go through her performance alone. + +Then the Captain saw something that wrought him up to ecstasy. Zorka +was singing a sad Bosnian song in her tender, crooning voice, and +dancing with graceful steps round the little bear, who, to tell the +truth, also danced more lightly than the heavy Ibrahim, and was very +amusing when he lifted his paw to his head as Hungarians do when they +are in high spirits and break forth in hurrahs. + +Captain Winter, however, saw nothing but the fair maid, whose pearly +white teeth shone out from between her red lips. He felt he would like +to slip a silk ribbon round her waist, which swayed as lightly as a +reed waving to and fro in the wind, and lead her off as if she were a +beautiful colored butterfly. + +Zorka grew tired of the sad, melancholy song, and began to dance +wildly and passionately. Perhaps her natural feminine vanity was +roused within her, and she wanted to show off at her best before the +handsome soldier. Her eyes sparkled; a flush spread from time to time +over her face; with her sweet voice she animated the little bear, +crying, "Mariska, Mariska, jump!" But after a while she seemed to +forget the growling little creature altogether, and went on dancing a +kind of graceful fandango of her own invention. As she swayed, it +seemed as if the motion and excitement caused every fiber of her body +to flash out a sort of electric glow. By the time the girl flung +herself, quite exhausted, in the dust at his feet, Captain Winter was +absolutely beside himself. Such a morsel of heavenly daintiness did +not often drop in his path now that he was fasting in this purgatory +of a village. His stay there had been one long Lent, during which joys +and pleasures had been rare indeed. + +It began to grow dark. At the other end of the market-place several +officers were on their way to supper at the village inn where they +always messed. The Captain turned to the man and woman in possession +of the bears and ordered them in no friendly tone to go with him to +the inn as his guests. Joco bowed humbly like a culprit, and gloomily +led on his comrade Ibrahim. Zorka, on the contrary, looked gay as she +walked along beside the light-colored bear. + +The Captain looked again and again at the bear-leader walking in front +of him. "Where have I seen this fellow before?" he kept asking +himself. His uncertainty did not last long. His face brightened. "Oh, +yes; I remember!" he inwardly exclaimed. Now he felt sure that this +black cherry of Bosnia, this girl with the waist of a dragonfly, was +his. + +The inn, once a gentleman's country-house, was built of stone. The +bears were lodged in a little room which used to serve the former +owner of the house as pantry, and were chained to the strong iron +lattice of the window. In one corner of this little room the landlord +ordered one of his servants to make a good bed of straw. "The Captain +will pay for it," he said. + +When everything was ready in the little room, the Captain called Joco +and took him there. He knew that what he was going to do was not +chivalrous; but he had already worked himself up to a blaze of +excitement over the game he meant to play, and this fellow was too +stupid to understand what a hazardous piece of play it was. When they +were alone he stood erect before the bear-leader and looked fixedly +into his eyes. + +"You are Joco Hics," he said; "two years ago you deserted from my +regiment." + +The strong, tall, young peasant began to tremble so that his knees +knocked together, but could not answer a single word. Fritz Winter, +Ritter von Wallishausen, whispered into Joco's ear, his speech +agitated and stuttering: "You have a woman with you," he said, "who +surely is not your wife. Set her free. I will buy her from you for any +price you ask. You can go away with your bears and pluck yourself +another such flower where you found this one." + +Joco stood motionless for a while as if turned into stone. + +He did not tremble any longer: the crisis was over. He had only been +frightened as long as he was uncertain whether or not he would be +instantly hanged if he were found out. + +"In all Bosnia," he answered gloomily, "there was only one such flower +and that I stole." + +Before a man who was willing to share his guilt, he dared acknowledge +his crime. In truth, this man was no better than himself. He only wore +finer clothes. + +The Captain became impatient. "Are you going to give her up, or not?" +he asked. "I do not want to harm you; but I could put you in prison +and in chains, and what would become of your sweetheart then?" + +Joco answered proudly: "She would cry her eyes out for me; otherwise +she would not have run away from her rich father's house for my sake." + +Ah! thought the Captain, if it were only that! By degrees I could win +her to me. + +But it was not advisable to make a fuss, whether for the sake of his +position or because of his wife, who lived in town. + +"Joco, I tell you what," said the Captain, suddenly becoming calm. "I +am going away now for a short time. I shall be gone about an hour. By +that time everybody will be in bed. The officers who sup with me, and +the innkeeper and his servants, will all be sound asleep. I give you +this time to think it over. When I come back you will either hold out +your hand to be chained or to receive a pile of gold in it. In the +meantime I shall lock you in there, because I know how very apt you +are to disappear." He went out, and turned the key twice in the lock. +Joco was left alone. + +When the hour had expired Captain Winter noisily opened the door. His +eyes sparkled from the strong wine he had taken during supper, as well +as from the exquisite expectation which made his blood boil. + +Joco stood smiling submissively before him. "I have thought it over, +sir," he said. "I will speak with the little Zorka about it." + +Ritter Winter now forgot that he was speaking with a deserter, whom it +was his duty to arrest. He held out his hand joyfully to the Bosnian +peasant, and said encouragingly: "Go speak with her; but make haste. +Go instantly." + +They crept together to the pantry where the girl slept near the +chained bears. Joco opened the door without making a sound, and +slipped in. It seemed to the Captain that he heard whispering inside. +These few moments seemed an eternity to him. At last the bear-leader +reappeared and, nodding to the Captain, said: "Sir, you are expected." + +Captain Winter had undoubtedly taken too much wine. He staggered as he +entered the pantry, the door of which the bear-leader shut and locked +directly he had entered. He then listened with such an expression on +his face as belongs only to a born bandit. Almost immediately a +growling was heard, and directly afterwards some terrible swearing and +a fall. The growling grew stronger and stronger. At last it ended in a +wild roar. A desperate cry disturbed the stillness of the night: +"Help! help!" + +In the yard and round about it the dogs woke up, and with terrible +yelping ran towards the pantry, where the roaring of the bear grew +ever wilder and more powerful. The rattling of the chain and the cries +of the girl mingled with Ibrahim's growling. The neighbors began to +wake up. Human voices, confused questionings, were heard. The +inn-keeper and his servants appeared on the scene in their night +clothes, but, hearing the terrible roaring, fled again into security. +The Captain's cries for help became weaker and weaker. And now Joco +took his iron stake, which he always kept by him, opened the door, and +at one bound was at the side of the wild beast. His voice sounded +again like thunder, and the iron stick fell with a thud on the bear's +back. Ibrahim had smelt blood. Beneath his paws a man's mangled body +was writhing. The beast could hardly be made to let go his prey. In +the light that came through the small window, Joco soon found the +chain from which not long before he had freed Ibrahim, and with a +swift turn he put the muzzle over the beast's jaws. It was done in a +twinkling. During this time Zorka had been running up and down the +empty yard, crying in vain for help. Nobody had dared come near. + +The following day Captain Fritz Winter, Ritter von Wallishausen, was +lying between burning wax candles upon his bier. Nobody could be made +responsible for the terrible accident. Why did he go to the bears when +he was not sober? + +But that very day the siren of Bosnia danced her wild dance again in +the next village, and with her sweet, melodious voice urged the +light-colored little bear: "Mariska, jump, jump!" + + + +ARTHUR ELCK + + +_THE TOWER ROOM_ + + +There were many wonderful things that aroused our childish fantasy, +when Balint Orzo and I were boys, but none so much as the old tower +that stands a few feet from the castle, shadowy and mysterious. It is +an old, curious, square tower, and at the brink of its notched edge +there is a shingled helmet which was erected by one of the late Orzos. + +There is many and many a legend told about this old tower. A rumor +exists that it has a secret chamber into which none is permitted to +enter, except the head of the family. Some great secret is concealed +in the tower-room, and when the first-born son of the Orzo family +becomes of age his father takes him there and reveals it. And the +effect of the revelation is such that every young man who enters that +room comes out with gray hair. + +As to what the secret might be, there was much conjecturing. One +legend had it that once some Orzo imprisoned his enemies in the tower +and starved them until the unfortunates ate each other in their crazed +suffering. + +According to another story Kelemen Orzo ordered his faithless wife +Krisztina Olaszi to be plastered into the wall of the room. Every +night since, sobbing is heard from the tower. + +Another runs that every hundred years a child with a dog's face is +born in the Orzo family and that this little monster has to perish in +the tower-room, so as to hide the disgrace of the family. + +Another conjecture was that once the notorious Menyhart Orzo, who was +supreme under King Rudolph in the castle, played a game of checkers +with his neighbor, Boldizsar Zomolnoky. They commenced to play on a +Monday and continued the game and drank all week until Sunday morning +dawned upon them. Then Menyhart Orzo's confessor came and pleaded with +the gamblers. He begged them to stop the game on the holy day of +Sunday, when all true Christians are in church praising the Lord. But +Menyhart, bringing his fist down on the table in such rage that all +the wine glasses and bottles danced, cried: "And if we have to sit +here till the world comes to an end, we won't stop till we have +finished this game!" + +Scarcely had he uttered his vow when, somewhere from the earth, or +from the wall, a thundering voice was heard promising to take him at +his word--that they would continue playing till the end of the world. +And ever since, the checkers are heard rattling, and the two damned +souls are still playing the game in the tower-room. + +When we were boys, the secret did not give us any rest, and we were +always discussing and plotting as to how we could discover it. We made +at least a hundred various plans, but all failed. It was an +impossibility to get into the tower, because of a heavy iron-barred +oaken door. The windows were too high to be reached. We had to satisfy +ourselves with throwing a well-aimed stone, which hit the room through +the window. Such an achievement was somewhat of a success, for +oftentimes we drove out an alarmed flock of birds. + +One day I decided that the best way would be to find out the secret of +the tower from Balint's father himself. "He is the head of the +family," I thought, "and if any light is to be had on the mystery, it +is through him." But Balint didn't like the idea of approaching the +old man; he knew his father's temper. + +However, once he ventured the question, but he was sorry for it +afterwards, for the older Orzo flew into a passion, and scolded and +raged, ending by telling him that he must not listen to such +nursery-tales; that the tower was moldering and decaying with age; +that the floor timbers and staircase were so infirm that it would fall +to pieces should anyone approach it; and that this was why no one +could gain admittance. + +For a long time afterwards neither of us spoke of it. + +But curiosity was incessantly working within us, and one evening +Balint solemnly vowed to me that as soon as he became of age and had +looked into the room, he would call for me, should I be even at the +end of the world, and would let me into the secret. In order to make +it more solemn, we called this a "blood-contract." + +With this vow we parted. My parents sent me to college; Balint had a +private tutor and was kept at home in the castle. After that we only +met at vacation time. + +Eight years passed before I saw the Orzo home again. At Balint's +urgent, sudden invitation I had hurriedly journeyed back to my rocky +fatherland. + +I had scarcely stepped on the wide stone stairway leading from the +terrace in the front of the castle, when someone shouted that the +honorable master was near! He came galloping in on a foaming horse. I +looked at him and started, as if I had seen a ghost, for this thin, +tall rider was the perfect resemblance of his father. The same knotty +hair and bearded head, the same densely furrowed face, the same deep, +calm, gray eyes. And his hair and beard were almost as white as his +father's! + +He came galloping through the gate, pulled the bridle with a sudden +jerk, and the next moment was on the paving; then with one bound he +reached the terrace, and had me in his strong arms. With wild +eagerness he showed me into the castle and at the same time kept +talking and questioning me without ceasing. Then he thrust me into my +room and declared that he gave me fifteen minutes--no more--to dress. + +The time had not even expired, when he came, like a whirlwind, +embraced me again and carried me into the dining-room. There +chandeliers and lamps were already lit; the table was elaborately +decorated, and bore plenty of wine. + +At the meal he spoke again. Nervously jerking out his words, he was +continually questioning me on one subject and then another, without +waiting for the answer. He laughed often and harshly. When we came to +the drinking, he winked to the servants, and immediately five Czigany +musicians entered the room. Balint noticed the astonishment on my +face, and half evasively said: + +"I have sent to Iglo for them in honor of you. Let the music sound, +and the wine flow; who knows when we will see each other again?" + +He put his face into his palm. The Cziganys played old Magyar songs. +Balint glanced at me now and then, and filled the glasses; we clinked +them together, but he always seemed to be worried. + +It was dawning. The soft sound of a church bell rose to us. Balint put +his hand on my shoulder and bent to my ear. + +"Do you know how my father died?" he asked in a husky voice. "He +killed himself." + +I looked at him with amazement; I wanted to speak, but he shook his +head, and grasped my hand. + +"Do you remember my father?" he asked me. Of course; while I looked at +him it seemed as if his father were standing before me. The very +fibrous, skinny figure, the muscles and flesh seeming peeled off. Even +through his coat arm I felt the naked, unveiled nerves. + +"I always admired and honored my father, but we were never true +intimates; I knew that he loved me, but I felt as if it was not for my +own sake; as if he loved something in my soul that was strange to me. +I never saw him smile; sometimes he was so harsh that I was afraid of +him; at another time he was unmanageable." + +"I did not understand him, but the older I became the better did I +feel that there was a sad secret germinating in the bottom of his +soul, where it grew like a spreading tree, the branches of which crept +up to the castle and covered the walls, little by little overshadowed +the sunlight, absorbed the air, and darkened everyone's heart. I +gritted my teeth in vain; I could not work; I could not start to +accomplish anything. I struggled with hundreds and hundreds of +determinations; to-day I prepared for this or that; to-morrow for +something else; ambition pressed me within; I could not make up my +mind. Behind every resolution I made, I noticed my father's +countenance, like a note of interrogation. The old fables that we +heard together in our childhood were renewed in my memory. Little by +little the thought grew within me, like a fixed delusion, that my +father's fatal secret was locked up in the tower room. After that I +lived by the calendar and dwelt on the passing of time on the clock. +And when the sun that shone on me when I was born arose the +twenty-fourth time, I pressed my hand on my heart and entered my +father's room--this very room. + +"'Father,' I said, 'I became of age to-day, everything may be opened +before me, and I am at liberty to know everything.' Father looked at +me and pondered over this. + +"'Oh, yes!' he whispered, 'this is the day.' + +"'I may know everything now,' continued I; 'I am not afraid of any +secrets. In the name of our family tradition, I beg of you, please +open the tower-room.' + +"Father raised his hand, as if he wanted to make me become silent. His +face was as white as a ghost. + +"'Very well,' he murmured, 'I will open the tower-room for you.' + +"And then he pulled off his coat, tore his shirt on his breast, and +pointed to his heart. + +"'Here is the tower-room, my boy!' did he whisper in a husky voice. +'Here is the tower-room, and within our family secret. Do you see it?' + +"That is all he said, but when I looked at him I immediately perceived +the secret; everything was clear before me and I had a presentiment +that something was nearing its end, something about to break. + +"Father walked up and down; and then he stopped and pointed to this +picture; to this very picture. + +"'Did you ever thoroughly look at your ancestors? They are all from +the Orzos. If you scrutinize their faces you will recognize in them +your father, yourself, and your grandfather; and if you ever read +their documents, which were left to us--there they are in the +box--then you will know that they are just the same material as we +are. Their way of thinking was the same as ours and so were their +desires, their wills, their lives, and deaths. We had among them +soldiers, clergymen, scientists, but not even one great, celebrated +man, although their talent, their strength almost tore them asunder. + +"'In every one of them the family curse took root: not one of them +could be a great man, neither my father nor yours.' + +"Then I felt as if something horrible was coming from his lips. My +breath almost ceased. Father did not finish what he was going to say, +but stopped and listened for a minute. + +"'I was my father's only hope,' he went on after a while; 'I too was +born talented and prepared for great things, but the Orzos' destiny +overtook me, and you see now what became of me. I looked into the +tower-room. You know what it contains? You know what the name of our +secret is? He who saw this secret lost faith in himself. For him it +would have been better not to have come into this world at all. But I +loved to live and did not want to abandon all my hopes. I married your +mother; she consoled me until you were born, and then I regained my +delight in life. I knew what I had to keep before my eyes to bring up +my son to be such a man as his father could not be. + +"'I acquiesced when you left for the foreign countries; then your +letters came. I made a special study of every sentence and of every +word of it, for I did not want to trust my reason. I thought the first +time that the fault was in me; that I saw unnecessary phantoms. But it +wasn't so, for what I read out of your words was our destiny, the +curse of the Orzos; from the way of your thinking, I found out that +everything is in vain; you too turned your head backward, you too +looked into yourself and noticed there the thing that makes the +perceiver sterile forever. You did not even notice what you have done; +you could not grasp it with your reason, but the poison is already +within you.' + +"'It cannot be, father!' I broke out, terrified. + +"But he sadly shook his head. 'I am old; I cannot believe in anything +now. I wish you were right, and would never come to know what I know. +God bless you, my son; it is getting late, and I am getting tired.' + +"It struck me that he was trying to cover his disbelief with sarcasm. +Both of us were without sleep that night. At dawn there was silence in +his room. I bitterly thought, 'When will I go to rest?' When I went +into his room in the morning he was lying in his bed. All was over. He +had taken poison, and written his farewell on a piece of paper. His +last wish was that no one should ever know under what circumstances he +died." + +Balint left off speaking and gazed with outstretched eyes toward the +window in the darkness. I slowly went to him and put my hand upon his +shoulder. He started at my touch. + +"I more than once thought of the woman who could be the mother of my +son. How many times have I been tempted to fulfill my father's last +wish! But at such a time it has always come to my mind that I too +might have such a son, who would cast into his father's teeth that he +was a coward and a selfish man; that he sacrificed a life for his +illusive hopes. + +"No! I won't do it. I won't do it. I am the last of the Orzos. With me +this damned family will die out. My fathers were cowards and rascals. +I do not want anybody to curse my memory." + +I kissed Balint's wet forehead; I knew that this was the last time I +would see him. The next day I left the castle, and the day after, his +death was made public. He committed suicide, like his father. He was +the last Orzo, and I turned about the coat of arms above his head. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Continental Classics, Volume +XVIII., Mystery Tales, by Various + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12144 *** diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9053375 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #12144 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/12144) diff --git a/old/12144-8.txt b/old/12144-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ad5c165 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/12144-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,14488 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Continental Classics, Volume XVIII., +Mystery Tales, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Continental Classics, Volume XVIII., Mystery Tales + Including Stories by Feodor Mikhailovitch Dostoyevsky, Jrgen Wilhelm + Bergse and Bernhard Severin Ingemann + + +Author: Various + +Release Date: April 25, 2004 [EBook #12144] +[Date last updated: May 9, 2004] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MYSTERIES *** + + + + +Produced by Charles Aldarondo, Project Manager; Keith M. Eckrich, +Post-Proofer; the Online Distributed Proofreaders Team + + + + + +_THE CONTINENTAL CLASSICS_ + +VOLUME XVIII + +MYSTERY TALES + + +INCLUDING STORIES BY + +FEODOR MIKHAILOVITCH DOSTOYEVSKY + +JRGEN WILHELM BERGSE AND + +BERNHARD SEVERIN INGEMANN + + + +1909 + + + +_TABLE OF CONTENTS_ + + +RUSSIAN MYSTERY STORIES: + + ALEXANDER SERGEIEVITCH PUSHKIN - The Queen of Spades + + VERA JELIHOVSKY - The General's Will + + FEODOR MIKHAILOVITCH DOSTOYEVSKY - Crime and Punishment + + ANTON CHEKHOFF - The Safety Match + + VSEVOLOD VLADIMIROVITCH KRESTOVSKI - Knights of Industry + + JRGEN WILHELM BERGSE - The Amputated Arms + + OTTO LARSSEN - The Manuscript + + BERNHARD SEVERIN INGEMANN - The Sealed Room + + STEEN STEENSEN BLICHER - The Rector of Veilbye + + +HUNGARIAN MYSTERY STORIES: + + FERENCZ MOLNAR - The Living Death + + MAURUS JOKAI - Thirteen at Table + + TIENNE BRSONY - The Dancing Bear + + ARTHUR ELCK - The Tower Room + + + + +_RUSSIAN MYSTERY STORIES_ + + +ALEXANDER SERGEIEVITCH PUSHKIN + + +_THE QUEEN OF SPADES_ + + +I + +There was a card party at the rooms of Naroumoff, of the Horse +Guards. The long winter night passed away imperceptibly, and it +was five o'clock in the morning before the company sat down to +supper. Those who had won ate with a good appetite; the others +sat staring absently at their empty plates. When the champagne +appeared, however, the conversation became more animated, and all +took a part in it. + +"And how did you fare, Souirin?" asked the host. + +"Oh, I lost, as usual. I must confess that I am unlucky. I play +mirandole, I always keep cool, I never allow anything to put me +out, and yet I always lose!" + +"And you did not once allow yourself to be tempted to back the +red? Your firmness astonishes me." + +"But what do you think of Hermann?" said one of the guests, +pointing to a young engineer. "He has never had a card in his +hand in his life, he has never in his life laid a wager; and yet +he sits here till five o'clock in the morning watching our play." + +"Play interests me very much," said Hermann, "but I am not in the +position to sacrifice the necessary in the hope of winning the +superfluous." + +"Hermann is a German; he is economical--that is all!" observed +Tomsky. "But if there is one person that I cannot understand, it +is my grandmother, the Countess Anna Fedorovna!" + +"How so?" inquired the guests. + +"I cannot understand," continued Tomsky, "how it is that my +grandmother does not punt." + +"Then you do not know the reason why?" + +"No, really; I haven't the faintest idea. But let me tell you the +story. You must know that about sixty years ago my grandmother went to +Paris, where she created quite a sensation. People used to run after +her to catch a glimpse of the 'Muscovite Venus.' Richelieu made love +to her, and my grandmother maintains that he almost blew out his +brains in consequence of her cruelty. At that time ladies used to play +at faro. On one occasion at the Court, she lost a very considerable +sum to the Duke of Orleans. On returning home, my grandmother removed +the patches from her face, took off her hoops, informed my grandfather +of her loss at the gaming-table, and ordered him to pay the money. My +deceased grandfather, as far as I remember, was a sort of +house-steward to my grandmother. He dreaded her like fire; but, on +hearing of such a heavy loss, he almost went out of his mind. He +calculated the various sums she had lost, and pointed out to her that +in six months she had spent half a million of francs; that neither +their Moscow nor Saratoff estates were in Paris; and, finally, refused +point-blank to pay the debt. My grandmother gave him a box on the ear +and slept by herself as a sign of her displeasure. The next day she +sent for her husband, hoping that this domestic punishment had +produced an effect upon him, but she found him inflexible. For the +first time in her life she entered into reasonings and explanations +with him, thinking to be able to convince him by pointing out to him +that there are debts and debts, and that there is a great difference +between a prince and a coachmaker. + +"But it was all in vain, my grandfather still remained obdurate. But +the matter did not rest there. My grandmother did not know what to do. +She had shortly before become acquainted with a very remarkable man. +You have heard of Count St. Germain, about whom so many marvelous +stories are told. You know that he represented himself as the +Wandering Jew, as the discoverer of the elixir of life, of the +philosopher's stone, and so forth. Some laughed at him as a charlatan; +but Casnova, in his memoirs, says that he was a spy. But be that as it +may, St. Germain, in spite of the mystery surrounding him, was a very +fascinating person, and was much sought after in the best circles of +society. Even to this day my grandmother retains an affectionate +recollection of him, and becomes quite angry if anyone speaks +disrespectfully of him. My grandmother knew that St. Germain had large +sums of money at his disposal. + +"She resolved to have recourse to him, and she wrote a letter to him +asking him to come to her without delay. The queer old man immediately +waited upon her, and found her overwhelmed with grief. She described +to him in the blackest colors the barbarity of her husband, and ended +by declaring that her whole hope depended upon his friendship and +amiability. + +"St. Germain reflected. + +"'I could advance you the sum you want,' said he, 'but I know that you +would not rest easy until you had paid me back, and I should not like +to bring fresh troubles upon you. But there is another way of getting +out of your difficulty: you can win back your money.' + +"'But, my dear Count,' replied my grandmother, 'I tell you that I +haven't any money left!' + +"'Money is not necessary,' replied St. Germain, 'be pleased to listen +to me.' + +"Then he revealed to her a secret, for which each of us would give a +good deal." + +The young officers listened with increased attention. Tomsky lit his +pipe, puffed away for a moment, and then continued: + +"That same evening my grandmother went to Versailles to the _jeu de la +reine_. The Duke of Orleans kept the bank; my grandmother excused +herself in an offhanded manner for not having yet paid her debt by +inventing some little story, and then began to play against him. She +chose three cards and played them one after the other; all three won +sonika,[1] and my grandmother recovered every farthing that she lost." + +"Mere chance!" said one of the guests. + +"A tale!" observed Hermann. + +"Perhaps they were marked cards!" said a third. + +"I do not think so," replied Tomsky, gravely. + +"What!" said Naroumoff, "you have a grandmother who knows how to hit +upon three lucky cards in succession, and you have never yet succeeded +in getting the secret of it out of her?" + +"That's the deuce of it!" replied Tomsky, "she had four sons, one of +whom was my father; all four were determined gamblers, and yet not to +one of them did she ever reveal her secret, although it would not have +been a bad thing either for them or for me. But this is what I heard +from my uncle, Count Ivan Hitch, and he assured me, on his honor, that +it was true. The late Chaplitsky--the same who died in poverty after +having squandered millions--once lost, in his youth, about three +hundred thousand roubles--to Zoritch, if I remember rightly. He was in +despair. My grandmother, who was always very severe upon the +extravagance of young men, took pity, however, upon Chaplitsky. She +gave him three cards telling him to play them one after the other, at +the same time exacting from him a solemn promise that he would never +play at cards again as long as he lived. Chaplitsky then went to his +victorious opponent, and they began a fresh game. On the first card he +staked fifty thousand roubles, and won sonika; he doubled the stake, +and won again; till at last, by pursuing the same tactics, he won back +more than he had lost." + +"But it is time to go to bed, it is a quarter to six already." And, +indeed, it was already beginning to dawn; the young men emptied their +glasses and then took leave of each other. + + +II + +The old Countess A---- was seated in her dressing-room in front of her +looking-glass. Three waiting maids stood around her. One held a small +pot of rouge, another a box of hairpins, and the third a tall cap with +bright red ribbons. The Countess had no longer the slightest +pretensions to beauty, but she still preserved the habits of her +youth, dressed in strict accordance with the fashion of seventy years +before, and made as long and as careful a toilette as she would have +done sixty years previously. Near the window, at an embroidery frame, +sat a young lady, her ward. + +"Good-morning, grandmamma," said a young officer, entering the room. +"_Bonjour_, Mademoiselle Lise. Grandmamma, I want to ask you +something." + +"What is it, Paul?" + +"I want you to let me introduce one of my friends to you, and to allow +me to bring him to the ball on Friday." + +"Bring him direct to the ball and introduce him to me there. Were you +at B----'s yesterday?" + +"Yes; everything went off very pleasantly, and dancing was kept up +until five o'clock. How charming Eletskaia was!" + +"But, my dear, what is there charming about her? Isn't she like her +grandmother, the Princess Daria Petrovna? By the way, she must be very +old, the Princess Daria Petrovna?" + +"How do you mean, old?" cried Tomsky, thoughtlessly, "she died seven +years ago." + +The young lady raised her head, and made a sign to the young officer. +He then remembered that the old Countess was never to be informed of +the death of her contemporaries, and he bit his lips. But the old +Countess heard the news with the greatest indifference. + +"Dead!" said she, "and I did not know it. We were appointed maids of +honor at the same time, and when we were presented to the Empress--" + +And the Countess for the hundredth time related to her grandson one of +her anecdotes. + +"Come, Paul," said she, when she had finished her story, "help me to +get up. Lizanka,[2] where is my snuffbox?" + +And the Countess with her three maids went behind a screen to finish +her toilette. Tomsky was left alone with the young lady. + +"Who is the gentleman you wish to introduce to the Countess?" asked +Lizaveta Ivanovna in a whisper. + +"Naroumoff. Do you know him?" + +"No. Is he a soldier or a civilian?" + +"A soldier." + +"Is he in the Engineers?" + +"No, in the Cavalry. What made you think that he was in the +Engineers?" + +The young lady smiled, but made no reply. + +"Paul," cried the Countess from behind the screen, "send me some new +novel, only pray don't let it be one of the present day style." + +"What do you mean, grandmother?" + +"That is, a novel, in which the hero strangles neither his father nor +his mother, and in which there are no drowned bodies. I have a great +horror of drowned persons." + +"There are no such novels nowadays. Would you like a Russian one?" + +"Are there any Russian novels? Send me one, my dear, pray send me +one!" + +"Good-by, grandmother. I am in a hurry.... Good-by, Lizaveta Ivanovna. +What made you think that Naroumoff was in the Engineers?" + +And Tomsky left the boudoir. + +Lizaveta Ivanovna was left alone. She laid aside her work, and began +to look out of the window. A few moments afterwards, at a corner house +on the other side of the street, a young officer appeared. A deep +flush covered her cheeks; she took up her work again, and bent her +head down over the frame. At the same moment the Countess returned, +completely dressed. + +"Order the carriage, Lizaveta," said she, "we will go out for a +drive." + +Lizaveta rose from the frame, and began to arrange her work. + +"What is the matter with you, my child, are you deaf?" cried the +Countess. "Order the carriage to be got ready at once." + +"I will do so this moment," replied the young lady, hastening into the +anteroom. + +A servant entered and gave the Countess some books from Prince Paul +Alexandrovitch. + +"Tell him that I am much obliged to him," said the Countess. +"Lizaveta! Lizaveta! where are you running to?" + +"I am going to dress." + +"There is plenty of time, my dear. Sit down here. Open the first +volume and read to me aloud." + +Her companion took the book and read a few lines. + +"Louder," said the Countess. "What is the matter with you, my child? +Have you lost your voice? Wait--Give me that footstool--a little +nearer--that will do!" + +Lizaveta read two more pages. The Countess yawned. + +"Put the book down," said she, "what a lot of nonsense! Send it back +to Prince Paul with my thanks.... But where is the carriage?" + +"The carriage is ready," said Lizaveta, looking out into the street. + +"How is it that you are not dressed?" said the Countess. "I must +always wait for you. It is intolerable, my dear!" + +Liza hastened to her room. She had not been there two minutes before +the Countess began to ring with all her might. The three waiting-maids +came running in at one door, and the valet at another. + +"How is it that you cannot hear me when I ring for you?" said the +Countess. "Tell Lizaveta Ivanovna that I am waiting for her." + +Lizaveta returned with her hat and cloak on. + +"At last you are here!" said the Countess. "But why such an elaborate +toilette? Whom do you intend to captivate? What sort of weather is it? +It seems rather windy." + +"No, your Ladyship, it is very calm," replied the valet. + +"You never think of what you are talking about. Open the window. So it +is; windy and bitterly cold. Unharness the horses, Lizaveta, we won't +go out--there was no need to deck yourself like that." + +"What a life is mine!" thought Lizaveta Ivanovna. + +And, in truth, Lizaveta Ivanovna was a very unfortunate creature. "The +bread of the stranger is bitter," says Dante, "and his staircase hard +to climb." But who can know what the bitterness of dependence is so +well as the poor companion of an old lady of quality? The Countess +A---- had by no means a bad heart, but she was capricious, like a +woman who had been spoiled by the world, as well as being avaricious +and egotistical, like all old people, who have seen their best days, +and whose thoughts are with the past, and not the present. She +participated in all the vanities of the great world, went to balls, +where she sat in a corner, painted and dressed in old-fashioned style, +like a deformed but indispensable ornament of the ballroom; all the +guests on entering approached her and made a profound bow, as if in +accordance with a set ceremony, but after that nobody took any further +notice of her. She received the whole town at her house, and observed +the strictest etiquette, although she could no longer recognize the +faces of people. Her numerous domestics, growing fat and old in her +antechamber and servants' hall, did just as they liked, and vied with +each other in robbing the aged Countess in the most bare-faced manner. +Lizaveta Ivanovna was the martyr of the household. She made tea, and +was reproached with using too much sugar; she read novels aloud to the +Countess, and the faults of the author were visited upon her head; she +accompanied the Countess in her walks, and was held answerable for the +weather or the state of the pavement. A salary was attached to the +post, but she very rarely received it, although she was expected to +dress like everybody else, that is to say, like very few indeed. In +society she played the most pitiable role. Everybody knew her, and +nobody paid her any attention. At balls she danced only when a partner +was wanted, and ladies would only take hold of her arm when it was +necessary to lead her out of the room to attend to their dresses. She +was very self-conscious, and felt her position keenly, and she looked +about her with impatience for a deliverer to come to her rescue; but +the young men, calculating in their giddiness, honored her with but +very little attention, although Lizaveta Ivanovna was a hundred times +prettier than the bare-faced, cold-hearted marriageable girls around +whom they hovered. Many a time did she quietly slink away from the +glittering, but wearisome, drawing-room, to go and cry in her own poor +little room, in which stood a screen, a chest of drawers, a +looking-glass, and a painted bedstead, and where a tallow candle burnt +feebly in a copper candle-stick. + +One morning--this was about two days after the evening party described +at the beginning of this story, and a week previous to the scene at +which we have just assisted--Lizaveta Ivanovna was seated near the +window at her embroidery frame, when, happening to look out into the +street, she caught sight of a young Engineer officer, standing +motionless with his eyes fixed upon her window. She lowered her head, +and went on again with her work. About five minutes afterwards she +looked out again--the young officer was still standing in the same +place. Not being in the habit of coquetting with passing officers, she +did not continue to gaze out into the street, but went on sewing for a +couple of hours, without raising her head. Dinner was announced. She +rose up and began to put her embroidery away, but glancing casually +out of the window, she perceived the officer again. This seemed to her +very strange. After dinner she went to the window with a certain +feeling of uneasiness, but the officer was no longer there--and she +thought no more about him. + +A couple of days afterwards, just as she was stepping into the +carriage with the Countess, she saw him again. He was standing close +behind the door, with his face half-concealed by his fur collar, but +his dark eyes sparkled beneath his cap. Lizaveta felt alarmed, though +she knew not why, and she trembled as she seated herself in the +carriage. + +On returning home, she hastened to the window--the officer was +standing in his accustomed place, with his eyes fixed upon her. She +drew back, a prey to curiosity, and agitated by a feeling which was +quite new to her. + +From that time forward not a day passed without the young officer +making his appearance under the window at the customary hour, and +between him and her there was established a sort of mute acquaintance. +Sitting in her place at work, she used to feel his approach, and, +raising her head, she would look at him longer and longer each day. +The young man seemed to be very grateful to her; she saw with the +sharp eye of youth, how a sudden flush covered his pale cheeks each +time that their glances met. After about a week she commenced to smile +at him.... + +When Tomsky asked permission of his grandmother, the Countess, to +present one of his friends to her, the young girl's heart beat +violently. But hearing that Naroumoff was not an Engineer, she +regretted that by her thoughtless question, she had betrayed her +secret to the volatile Tomsky. + +Hermann was the son of a German who had become a naturalized Russian, +and from whom he had inherited a small capital. Being firmly convinced +of the necessity of preserving his independence, Hermann did not touch +his private income, but lived on his pay, without allowing himself the +slightest luxury. Moreover, he was reserved and ambitious, and his +companions rarely had an opportunity of making merry at the expense of +his extreme parsimony. He had strong passions and an ardent +imagination, but his firmness of disposition preserved him from the +ordinary errors of young men. Thus, though a gamester at heart, he +never touched a card, for he considered his position did not allow +him--as he said--"to risk the necessary in the hope of winning the +superfluous," yet he would sit for nights together at the card table +and follow with feverish anxiety the different turns of the game. + +The story of the three cards had produced a powerful impression upon +his imagination, and all night long he could think of nothing else. +"If," he thought to himself the following evening, as he walked along +the streets of St. Petersburg, "if the old Countess would not reveal +her secret to me! If she would only tell me the names of the three +winning cards. Why should I not try my fortune? I must get introduced +to her and win her favor--become her lover.... But all that will take +time, and she is eighty-seven years old. She might be dead in a week, +in a couple of days even. But the story itself? Can it really be true? +No! Economy, temperance, and industry; those are my three winning +cards; by means of them I shall be able to double my capital--increase +it sevenfold, and procure for myself ease and independence." + +Musing in this manner, he walked on until he found himself in one of +the principal streets of St. Petersburg, in front of a house of +antiquated architecture. The street was blocked with equipages; +carriages one after the other drew up in front of the brilliantly +illuminated doorway. At one moment there stepped out onto the pavement +the well-shaped little foot of some young beauty, at another the heavy +boot of a cavalry officer, and then the silk stockings and shoes of a +member of the diplomatic world. Fur and cloaks passed in rapid +succession before the gigantic porter at the entrance. Hermann +stopped. "Whose house is this?" he asked of the watchman at the +corner. + +"The Countess A----'s," replied the watchman. + +Hermann started. The strange story of the three cards again presented +itself to his imagination. He began walking up and down before the +house, thinking of its owner and her strange secret. Returning late to +his modest lodging, he could not go to sleep for a long time, and when +at last he did doze off, he could dream of nothing but cards, green +tables, piles of banknotes, and heaps of ducats. He played one card +after the other, winning uninterruptedly, and then he gathered up the +gold and filled his pockets with the notes. When he woke up late the +next morning, he sighed over the loss of his imaginary wealth, and +then sallying out into the town, he found himself once more in front +of the Countess's residence. Some unknown power seemed to have +attracted him thither. He stopped and looked up at the windows. At one +of these he saw a head with luxuriant black hair, which was bent down, +probably over some book or an embroidery frame. The head was raised. +Hermann saw a fresh complexion, and a pair of dark eyes. That moment +decided his fate. + + +III + +Lizaveta Ivanovna had scarcely taken off her hat and cloak, when the +Countess sent for her, and again ordered her to get the carriage +ready. The vehicle drew up before the door, and they prepared to take +their seats. Just at the moment when two footmen were assisting the +old lady to enter the carriage, Lizaveta saw her Engineer standing +close beside the wheel; he grasped her hand; alarm caused her to lose +her presence of mind, and the young man disappeared--but not before he +had left a letter between her fingers. She concealed it in her glove, +and during the whole of the drive she neither saw nor heard anything. +It was the custom of the Countess, when out for an airing in her +carriage, to be constantly asking such questions as "Who was that +person that met us just now? What is the name of this bridge? What is +written on that sign-board?" On this occasion, however, Lizaveta +returned such vague and absurd answers, that the Countess became angry +with her. + +"What is the matter with you, my dear?" she exclaimed. "Have you taken +leave of your senses, or what is it? Do you not hear me or understand +what I say? Heaven be thanked, I am still in my right mind and speak +plainly enough!" + +Lizaveta Ivanovna did not hear her. On returning home she ran to her +room, and drew the letter out of her glove: it was not sealed. +Lizaveta read it. The letter contained a declaration of love; it was +tender, respectful, and copied word for word from a German novel. But +Lizaveta did not know anything of the German language, and she was +quite delighted. + +For all that, the letter caused her to feel exceedingly uneasy. For +the first time in her life she was entering into secret and +confidential relations with a young man. His boldness alarmed her. She +reproached herself for her imprudent behavior, and knew not what to +do. Should she cease to sit at the window, and, by assuming an +appearance of indifference towards him, put a check upon the young +officer's desire for further acquaintance with her? Should she send +his letter back to him, or should she answer him in a cold and decided +manner? There was nobody to whom she could turn in her perplexity, for +she had neither female friend nor adviser. At length she resolved to +reply to him. + +She sat down at her little writing table, took pen and paper, and +began to think. Several times she began her letter and then tore it +up; the way she had expressed herself seemed to her either too +inviting or too cold and decisive. At last she succeeded in writing a +few lines with which she felt satisfied. + +"I am convinced," she wrote, "that your intentions are honorable, and +that you do not wish to offend me by any imprudent behavior, but our +acquaintance must not begin in such a manner. I return you your +letter, and I hope that I shall never have any cause to complain of +this undeserved slight." + +The next day, as soon as Hermann made his appearance, Lizaveta rose +from her embroidery, went into the drawing-room, opened the +ventilator, and threw the letter into the street, trusting that the +young officer would have the perception to pick it up. + +Hermann hastened forward, picked it up, and then repaired to a +confectioner's shop. Breaking the seal of the envelope, he found +inside it his own letter and Lizaveta's reply. He had expected this, +and he returned home, his mind deeply occupied with his intrigue. + +Three days afterwards a bright-eyed young girl from a milliner's +establishment brought Lizaveta a letter. Lizaveta opened it with great +uneasiness, fearing that it was a demand for money, when, suddenly, +she recognized Hermann's handwriting. + +"You have made a mistake, my dear," said she. "This letter is not for +me." + +"Oh, yes, it is for you," replied the girl, smiling very knowingly. +"Have the goodness to read it." + +Lizaveta glanced at the letter. Hermann requested an interview. + +"It cannot be," she cried, alarmed at the audacious request and the +manner in which it was made. "This letter is certainly not for me," +and she tore it into fragments. + +"If the letter was not for you, why have you torn it up?" said the +girl. "I should have given it back to the person who sent it." + +"Be good enough, my dear," said Lizaveta, disconcerted by this remark, +"not to bring me any more letters for the future, and tell the person +who sent you that he ought to be ashamed." + +But Hermann was not the man to be thus put off. Every day Lizaveta +received from him a letter, sent now in this way, now in that. They +were no longer translated from the German. Hermann wrote them under +the inspiration of passion, and spoke in his own language, and they +bore full testimony to the inflexibility of his desire, and the +disordered condition of his uncontrollable imagination. Lizaveta no +longer thought of sending them back to him; she became intoxicated +with them, and began to reply to them, and little by little her +answers became longer and more affectionate. At last she threw out of +the window to him the following letter: + +"This evening there is going to be a ball at the Embassy. The Countess +will be there. We shall remain until two o'clock. You have now an +opportunity of seeing me alone. As soon as the Countess is gone, the +servants will very probably go out, and there will be nobody left but +the Swiss, but he usually goes to sleep in his lodge. Come about +half-past eleven. Walk straight upstairs. If you meet anybody in the +anteroom, ask if the Countess is at home. You will be told 'No,' in +which case there will be nothing left for you to do but to go away +again. But it is most probable that you will meet nobody. The +maidservants will all be together in one room. On leaving the +anteroom, turn to the left, and walk straight on until you reach the +Countess's bedroom. In the bedroom, behind a screen, you will find two +doors: the one on the right leads to a cabinet, which the Countess +never enters; the one on the left leads to a corridor, at the end of +which is a little winding staircase; this leads to my room." + +Hermann trembled like a tiger as he waited for the appointed time to +arrive. At ten o'clock in the evening he was already in front of the +Countess's house. The weather was terrible; the wind blew with great +violence, the sleety snow fell in large flakes, the lamps emitted a +feeble light, the streets were deserted; from time to time a sledge +drawn by a sorry-looking hack, passed by on the lookout for a belated +passenger. Hermann was enveloped in a thick overcoat, and felt neither +wind nor snow. + +At last the Countess's carriage drew up. Hermann saw two footmen carry +out in their arms the bent form of the old lady, wrapped in sable fur, +and immediately behind her, clad in a warm mantle, and with her head +ornamented with a wreath of fresh flowers, followed Lizaveta. The door +was closed. The carriage rolled heavily away through the yielding +snow. The porter shut the street door, the windows became dark. + +Hermann began walking up and down near the deserted house; at length +he stopped under a lamp, and glanced at his watch: it was twenty +minutes past eleven. He remained standing under the lamp, his eyes +fixed upon the watch impatiently waiting for the remaining minutes to +pass. At half-past eleven precisely Hermann ascended the steps of the +house and made his way into the brightly-illuminated vestibule. The +porter was not there. Hermann hastily ascended the staircase, opened +the door of the anteroom, and saw a footman sitting asleep in an +antique chair by the side of a lamp. With a light, firm step Hermann +passed by him. The drawing-room and dining-room were in darkness, but +a feeble reflection penetrated thither from the lamp in the anteroom. + +Hermann reached the Countess's bedroom. Before a shrine, which was +full of old images, a golden lamp was burning. Faded stuffed chairs +and divans with soft cushions stood in melancholy symmetry around the +room, the walls of which were hung with china silk. On one side of the +room hung two portraits painted in Paris by Madame Lebrun. One of +these represented a stout, red-faced man of about forty years of age, +in a bright green uniform, and with a star upon his breast; the +other--a beautiful young woman, with an aquiline nose, forehead curls, +and a rose in her powdered hair. In the corner stood porcelain +shepherds and shepherdesses, dining-room clocks from the workshop of +the celebrated Lefroy, bandboxes, roulettes, fans, and the various +playthings for the amusement of ladies that were in vogue at the end +of the last century, when Montgolfier's balloons and Niesber's +magnetism were the rage. Hermann stepped behind the screen. At the +back of it stood a little iron bedstead; on the right was the door +which led to the cabinet; on the left, the other which led to the +corridor. He opened the latter, and saw the little winding staircase +which led to the room of the poor companion. But he retraced his steps +and entered the dark cabinet. + +The time passed slowly. All was still. The clock in the drawing-room +struck twelve, the strokes echoed through the room one after the +other, and everything was quiet again. Hermann stood leaning against +the cold stove. He was calm, his heart beat regularly, like that of a +man resolved upon a dangerous but inevitable undertaking. One o'clock +in the morning struck; then two, and he heard the distant noise of +carriage-wheels. An involuntary agitation took possession of him. The +carriage drew near and stopped. He heard the sound of the carriage +steps being let down. All was bustle within the house. The servants +were running hither and thither, there was a confusion of voices, and +the rooms were lit up. Three antiquated chambermaids entered the +bedroom, and they were shortly afterwards followed by the Countess, +who, more dead than alive, sank into a Voltaire armchair. Hermann +peeped through a chink. Lizaveta Ivanovna passed close by him, and he +heard her hurried steps as she hastened up the little spiral +staircase. For a moment his heart was assailed by something like a +pricking of conscience, but the emotion was only transitory, and his +heart became petrified as before. + +The Countess began to undress before her looking-glass. Her +rose-bedecked cap was taken off, and then her powdered wig was removed +from off her white and closely cut hair. Hairpins fell in showers +around her. Her yellow satin dress, brocaded with silver, fell down at +her swollen feet. + +Hermann was a witness of the repugnant mysteries of her toilette; at +last the Countess was in her night-cap and dressing-gown, and in this +costume, more suitable to her age, she appeared less hideous and +deformed. + +Like all old people, in general, the Countess suffered from +sleeplessness. Having undressed, she seated herself at the window in a +Voltaire armchair, and dismissed her maids. The candles were taken +away, and once more the room was left with only one lamp burning in +it. The Countess sat there looking quite yellow, mumbling with her +flaccid lips and swaying to and fro. Her dull eyes expressed complete +vacancy of mind, and, looking at her, one would have thought that the +rocking of her body was not a voluntary action of her own, but was +produced by the action of some concealed galvanic mechanism. + +Suddenly the death-like face assumed an inexplicable expression. The +lips ceased to tremble, the eyes became animated: before the Countess +stood an unknown man. + +"Do not be alarmed, for Heaven's sake, do not be alarmed!" said he in +a low but distinct voice. "I have no intention of doing you any harm; +I have only come to ask a favor of you." + +The old woman looked at him in silence, as if she had not heard what +he had said. Hermann thought that she was deaf, and, bending down +towards her ear, he repeated what he had said. The aged Countess +remained silent as before. + +"You can insure the happiness of my life," continued Hermann, "and it +will cost you nothing. I know that you can name three cards in +order--" + +Hermann stopped. The Countess appeared now to understand what he +wanted; she seemed as if seeking for words to reply. + +"It was a joke," she replied at last. "I assure you it was only a +joke." + +"There is no joking about the matter," replied Hermann, angrily. +"Remember Chaplitsky, whom you helped to win." + +The Countess became visibly uneasy. Her features expressed strong +emotion, but they quickly resumed their former immobility. + +"Can you not name me these three winning cards?" continued Hermann. + +The Countess remained silent; Hermann continued: + +"For whom are you preserving your secret? For your grandsons? They are +rich enough without it, they do not know the worth of money. Your +cards would be of no use to a spendthrift. He who cannot preserve his +paternal inheritance will die in want, even though he had a demon at +his service. I am not a man of that sort. I know the value of money. +Your three cards will not be thrown away upon me. Come!" + +He paused and tremblingly awaited her reply. The Countess remained +silent. Hermann fell upon his knees. + +"If your heart has ever known the feeling of love," said he, "if you +remember its rapture, if you have ever smiled at the cry of your +new-born child, if any human feeling has ever entered into your +breast, I entreat you by the feelings of a wife, a lover, a mother, by +all that is most sacred in life, not to reject my prayer. Reveal to me +your secret. Of what use is it to you? May be it is connected with +some terrible sin, with the loss of eternal salvation, with some +bargain with the devil. Reflect, you are old, you have not long to +live--I am ready to take your sins upon my soul. Only reveal to me +your secret. Remember that the happiness of a man is in your hands, +that not only I, but my children and my grandchildren, will bless your +memory and reverence you as a saint." + +The old Countess answered not a word. + +Hermann rose to his feet. + +"You old hag!" he exclaimed, grinding his teeth, "then I will make you +answer!" With these words he drew a pistol from his pocket. At the +sight of the pistol, the Countess for the second time exhibited strong +emotions. She shook her head, and raised her hands as if to protect +herself from the shot. Then she fell backwards, and remained +motionless. + +"Come, an end to this childish nonsense!" said Hermann, taking hold of +her hand. "I ask you for the last time: will you tell me the names of +your three cards, or will you not?" + +The Countess made no reply. Hermann perceived that she was dead! + + +IV + +Lizaveta Ivanovna was sitting in her room, still in her ball dress, +lost in deep thought. On returning home, she had hastily dismissed the +chambermaid, who very reluctantly came forward to assist her, saying +that she would undress herself, and with a trembling heart had gone up +to her own room, expecting to find Hermann there, but yet hoping not +to find him. At the first glance he was not there, and she thanked her +fate for having prevented him keeping the appointment. She sat down +without undressing, and began to call to mind all the circumstances +which in a short time had carried her so far. It was not three weeks +since the time when she had first seen the young officer from the +window--and yet she was already in correspondence with him, and he had +succeeded in inducing her to grant him a nocturnal interview. She knew +his name only through his having written it at the bottom of some of +his letters; she had never spoken to him, had never heard his voice, +and had never heard him spoken of until that evening. But, strange to +say, that very evening at the ball, Tomsky, being piqued with the +young Princess Pauline N----, who, contrary to her usual custom, did +not flirt with him, wished to revenge himself by assuming an air of +indifference: he therefore engaged Lizaveta Ivanovna, and danced an +endless mazurka with her. During the whole of the time he kept teasing +her about her partiality for Engineer officers, he assured her that he +knew far more than she imagined, and some of his jests were so happily +aimed, that Lizaveta thought several times that her secret was known +to him. + +"From whom have you learned all this?" she asked, smiling. + +"From a friend of a person very well known to you," replied Tomsky, +"from a very distinguished man." + +"And whom is this distinguished man?" + +"His name is Hermann." Lizaveta made no reply, but her hands and feet +lost all sense of feeling. + +"This Hermann," continued Tomsky, "is a man of romantic personality. +He has the profile of a Napoleon, and the soul of a Mephistopheles. I +believe that he has at least three crimes upon his conscience. How +pale you have become!" + +"I have a headache. But what did this Hermann, or whatever his name +is, tell you?" + +"Hermann is very dissatisfied with his friend. He says that in his +place he would act very differently. I even think that Hermann himself +has designs upon you; at least, he listens very attentively to all +that his friend has to say about you." + +"And where has he seen me?" + +"In church, perhaps; or on the parade. God alone knows where. It may +have been in your room, while you were asleep, for there is nothing +that he--" + +Three ladies approaching him with the question: "oubli ou regret?" +interrupted the conversation, which had become so tantalizingly +interesting to Lizaveta. + +The lady chosen by Tomsky was the Princess Pauline herself. She +succeeded in effecting a reconciliation with him during the numerous +turns of the dance, after which he conducted her to her chair. On +returning to his place, Tomsky thought no more either of Hermann or +Lizaveta. She longed to renew the interrupted conversation, but the +mazurka came to an end, and shortly afterwards the old Countess took +her departure. + +Tomsky's words were nothing more than the customary small talk of the +dance, but they sank deep into the soul of the young dreamer. The +portrait, sketched by Tomsky, coincided with the picture she had +formed within her own mind, and, thanks to the latest romances, the +ordinary countenance of her admirer became invested with attributes +capable of alarming her and fascinating her imagination at the same +time. She was now sitting with her bare arms crossed, and with her +head, still adorned with flowers, sunk upon her uncovered bosom. +Suddenly the door opened and Hermann entered. She shuddered. + +"Where were you?" she asked in a terrified whisper. + +"In the old Countess's bedroom," replied Hermann. "I have just left +her. The Countess is dead." + +"My God! What do you say?" + +"And I am afraid," added Hermann, "that I am the cause of her death." + +Lizaveta looked at him, and Tomsky's words found an echo in her soul: +"This man has at least three crimes upon his conscience!" Hermann sat +down by the window near her, and related all that had happened. + +Lizaveta listened to him in terror. So all those passionate letters, +those ardent desires, this bold, obstinate pursuit--all this was not +love! Money--that was what his soul yearned for! She could not satisfy +his desire and make him happy. The poor girl had been nothing but the +blind tool of a robber, of the murderer of her aged benefactress! She +wept bitter tears of agonized repentance. Hermann gazed at her in +silence; his heart, too, was a prey to violent emotion, but neither +the tears of the poor girl, nor the wonderful charm of her beauty, +enhanced by her grief, could produce any impression upon his hardened +soul. He felt no pricking of conscience at the thought of the dead old +woman. One thing only grieved him: the irreparable loss of the secret +from which he had expected to obtain great wealth. + +"You are a monster!" said Lizaveta at last. + +"I did not wish for her death," replied Hermann, "my pistol was not +loaded." Both remained silent. The day began to dawn. Lizaveta +extinguished her candle, a pale light illumined her room. She wiped +her tear-stained eyes, and raised them towards Hermann. He was sitting +near the window, with his arms crossed, and with a fierce frown upon +his forehead. In this attitude he bore a striking resemblance to the +portrait of Napoleon. This resemblance struck Lizaveta even. + +"How shall I get you out of the house?" said she at last. "I thought +of conducting you down the secret staircase." + +"I will go alone," he answered. + +Lizaveta arose, took from her drawer a key, handed it to Hermann, and +gave him the necessary instructions. Hermann pressed her cold, inert +hand, kissed her bowed head, and left the room. + +He descended the winding staircase, and once more entered the +Countess's bedroom. The dead old lady sat as if petrified, her face +expressed profound tranquillity. Hermann stopped before her, and gazed +long and earnestly at her, as if he wished to convince himself of the +terrible reality. At last he entered the cabinet, felt behind the +tapestry for the door, and then began to descend the dark staircase, +filled with strange emotions. "Down this very staircase," thought he, +"perhaps coming from the very same room, and at this very same hour +sixty years ago, there may have glided, in an embroidered coat, with +his hair dressed _a l'oiseau royal_, and pressing to his heart his +three-cornered hat, some young gallant who has long been mouldering in +the grave, but the heart of his aged mistress has only today ceased to +beat." + +At the bottom of the staircase Hermann found a door, which he opened +with a key, and then traversed a corridor which conducted him into the +street. + + +V + +Three days after the fatal night, at nine o'clock in the morning, +Hermann repaired to the Convent of ----, where the last honors were to +be paid to the mortal remains of the old Countess. Although feeling no +remorse, he could not altogether stifle the voice of conscience, which +said to him: "You are the murderer of the old woman!" In spite of his +entertaining very little religious belief, he was exceedingly +superstitious; and believing that the dead Countess might exercise an +evil influence on his life, he resolved to be present at her obsequies +in order to implore her pardon. + +The church was full. It was with difficulty that Hermann made his way +through the crowd of people. The coffin was placed upon a rich +catafalque beneath a velvet baldachin. The deceased Countess lay +within it, with her hands crossed upon her breast, with a lace cap +upon her head, and dressed in a white satin robe. Around the +catafalque stood the members of her household; the servants in black +caftans, with armorial ribbons upon their shoulders and candles in +their hands; the relatives--children, grandchildren, and +great-grandchildren--in deep mourning. + +Nobody wept, tears would have been an affectation. The Countess was so +old that her death could have surprised nobody, and her relatives had +long looked upon her as being out of the world. A famous preacher +delivered the funeral sermon. In simple and touching words he +described the peaceful passing away of the righteous, who had passed +long years in calm preparation for a Christian end. "The angel of +death found her," said the orator, "engaged in pious meditation and +waiting for the midnight bridegroom." + +The service concluded amidst profound silence. The relatives went +forward first to take a farewell of the corpse. Then followed the +numerous guests, who had come to render the last homage to her who for +so many years had been a participator in their frivolous amusements. +After these followed the members of the Countess's household. The last +of these an old woman of the same age as the deceased. Two young women +led her forward by the hand. She had not strength enough to bow down +to the ground--she merely shed a few tears, and kissed the cold hand +of the mistress. + +Herman now resolved to approach the coffin. He knelt down upon the +cold stones, and remained in that position for some minutes; at last +he arose as pale as the deceased Countess herself; he ascended the +steps of the catafalque and bent over the corpse.... At that moment it +seemed to him that the dead woman darted a mocking look at him and +winked with one eye. Hermann started back, took a false step, and fell +to the ground. Several persons hurried forward and raised him up. At +the same moment Lizaveta Ivanovna was borne fainting into the porch of +the church. This episode disturbed for some minutes the solemnity of +the gloomy ceremony. Among the congregation arose a deep murmur, and a +tall, thin chamberlain, a near relative of the deceased, whispered in +the ear of an Englishman, who was standing near him, that the young +officer was a natural son of the Countess, to which the Englishman +coldly replied "Oh!" + +During the whole of that day Hermann was strangely excited. Repairing +to an out of the way restaurant to dine, he drank a great deal of +wine, contrary to his usual custom, in the hope of deadening his +inward agitation. But the wine only served to excite his imagination +still more. On returning home he threw himself upon his bed without +undressing, and fell into a deep sleep. + +When he woke up it was already night, and the moon was shining into +the room. He looked at his watch: it was a quarter to three. Sleep had +left him; he sat down upon his bed, and thought of the funeral of the +old Countess. + +At that moment somebody in the street looked in at his window and +immediately passed on again. Hermann paid no attention to this +incident. A few moments afterwards he heard the door of his anteroom +open. Hermann thought that it was his orderly, drunk as usual, +returning from some nocturnal expedition, but presently he heard +footsteps that were unknown to him: somebody was walking softly over +the floor in slippers. The door opened, and a woman dressed in white +entered the room. Hermann mistook her for his old nurse, and wondered +what could bring her there at that hour of the night. But the white +woman glided rapidly across the room and stood before him--and Hermann +thought he recognized the Countess. + +"I have come to you against my wish," she said in a firm voice, "but I +have been ordered to grant your request. Three, seven, ace, will win +for you if played in succession, but only on these conditions: that +you do not play more than one card in twenty-four-hours, and that you +never play again during the rest of your life. I forgive you my death, +on condition that you marry my companion, Lizaveta Ivanovna." + +With these words she turned round very quietly, walked with a +shuffling gait towards the door, and disappeared. Hermann heard the +street door open and shut, and again he saw someone look in at him +through the window. + +For a long time Hermann could not recover himself. He then rose up and +entered the next room. His orderly was lying asleep upon the floor, +and he had much difficulty in waking him. The orderly was drunk as +usual, and no information could be obtained from him. The street door +was locked. Hermann returned to his room, lit his candle, and wrote +down all the details of his vision. + + +VI + +Two fixed ideas can no more exist together in the moral world than two +bodies can occupy one and the same physical world. "Three, seven, ace" +soon drove out of Hermann's mind the thought of the dead Countess. +"Three, seven, ace" were perpetually running through his head, and +continually being repeated by his lips. If he saw a young girl, he +would say: "How slender she is; quite like the three of hearts." If +anybody asked "What is the time?" he would reply: "Five minutes to +seven." Every stout man that he saw reminded him of the ace. "Three, +seven, ace" haunted him in his sleep, and assumed all possible shapes. +The threes bloomed before him in the forms of magnificent flowers, the +sevens were represented by Gothic portals, and the aces became +transformed into gigantic spiders. One thought alone occupied his +whole mind--to make a profitable use of the secret which he had +purchased so dearly. He thought of applying for a furlough so as to +travel abroad. He wanted to go to Paris and tempt fortune in some +gambling houses that abounded there. Chance spared him all this +trouble. + +There was in Moscow a society of rich gamesters, presided over by the +celebrated Chekalinsky, who had passed all his life at the card table, +and had amassed millions, accepting bills of exchange for his +winnings, and paying his losses in ready money. His long experience +secured for him the confidence of his companions, and his open house, +his famous cook, and his agreeable and fascinating manners, gained for +him the respect of the public. He came to St. Petersburg. The young +men of the capital flocked to his rooms, forgetting balls for cards, +and preferring the emotions of faro to the seductions of flirting. +Naroumoff conducted Hermann to Chekalinsky's residence. + +They passed through a suite of rooms, filled with attentive domestics. +The place was crowded. Generals and Privy Counsellors were playing at +whist, young men were lolling carelessly upon the velvet-covered +sofas, eating ices and smoking pipes. In the drawing-room, at the head +of a long table, around which were assembled about a score of players, +sat the master of the house keeping the bank. He was a man of about +sixty years of age, of a very dignified appearance; his head was +covered with silvery white hair; his full, florid countenance +expressed good-nature, and his eyes twinkled with a perpetual smile. +Naroumoff introduced Hermann to him. Chekalinsky shook him by the hand +in a friendly manner, requested him not to stand on ceremony, and then +went on dealing. + +The game occupied some time. On the table lay more than thirty cards. +Chekalinsky paused after each throw, in order to give the players time +to arrange their cards and note down their losses, listened politely +to their requests, and more politely still, straightened the corners +of cards that some player's hand had chanced to bend. At last the game +was finished. Chekalinsky shuffled the cards, and prepared to deal +again. + +"Will you allow me to take a card?" said Hermann, stretching out his +hand from behind a stout gentleman who was punting. + +Chekalinsky smiled and bowed silently, as a sign of acquiescence. +Naroumoff laughingly congratulated Hermann on his abjuration of that +abstention from cards which he had practised for so long a period, and +wished him a lucky beginning. + +"Stake!" said Hermann, writing some figures with chalk on the back of +his card. + +"How much?" asked the banker, contracting the muscles of his eyes, +"excuse me, I cannot see quite clearly." + +"Forty-seven thousand roubles," replied Hermann. At these words every +head in the room turned suddenly round, and all eyes were fixed upon +Hermann. + +"He has taken leave of his senses!" thought Naroumoff. + +"Allow me to inform you," said Chekalinsky, with his eternal smile, +"that you are playing very high; nobody here has ever staked more than +two hundred and seventy-five roubles at once." + +"Very well," replied Hermann, "but do you accept my card or not?" + +Chekalinsky bowed in token of consent. + +"I only wish to observe," said he, "that although I have the greatest +confidence in my friends, I can only play against ready money. For my +own part I am quite convinced that your word is sufficient, but for +the sake of the order of the game, and to facilitate the reckoning up, +I must ask you to put the money on your card." + +Hermann drew from his pocket a bank-note, and handed it to +Chekalinsky, who, after examining it in a cursory manner, placed it on +Hermann's card. + +He began to deal. On the right a nine turned up, and on the left a +three. + +"I have won!" said Hermann, showing his card. + +A murmur of astonishment arose among the players. Chekalinsky frowned, +but the smile quickly returned to his face. "Do you wish me to settle +with you?" he said to Hermann. + +"If you please," replied the latter. + +Chekalinsky drew from his pocket a number of banknotes and paid at +once. Hermann took up his money and left the table. Naroumoff could +not recover from his astonishment. Hermann drank a glass of lemonade +and returned home. + +The next evening he again repaired to Chekalinsky's. The host was +dealing. Hermann walked up to the table; the punters immediately made +room for him. Chekalinsky greeted him with a gracious bow. + +Hermann waited for the next deal, took a card and placed upon it his +forty-seven thousand roubles, together with his winnings of the +previous evening. + +Chekalinsky began to deal. A knave turned up on the right, a seven on +the left. + +Hermann showed his seven. + +There was a general exclamation. Chekalinsky was evidently ill at +ease, but he counted out the ninety-four thousand roubles and handed +them over to Hermann, who pocketed them in the coolest manner +possible, and immediately left the house. + +The next evening Hermann appeared again at the table. Everyone was +expecting him. The generals and privy counsellors left their whist in +order to watch such extraordinary play. The young officers quitted +their sofas, and even the servants crowded into the room. All pressed +round Hermann. The other players left off punting, impatient to see +how it would end. Hermann stood at the table, and prepared to play +alone against the pale, but still smiling Chekalinsky. Each opened a +pack of cards. Chekalinsky shuffled. Hermann took a card and covered +it with a pile of bank-notes. It was like a duel. Deep silence reigned +around. + +Chekalinsky began to deal, his hands trembled. On the right a queen +turned up, and on the left an ace. + +"Ace has won!" cried Hermann, showing his card. + +"Your queen has lost," said Chekalinsky, politely. + +Hermann started; instead of an ace, there lay before him the queen of +spades! He could not believe his eyes, nor could he understand how he +had made such a mistake. + +At that moment it seemed to him that the queen of spades smiled +ironically, and winked her eye at him. He was struck by her remarkable +resemblance.... + +"The old Countess!" he exclaimed, seized with terror. Chekalinsky +gathered up his winnings. For some time Hermann remained perfectly +motionless. When at last he left the table, there was a general +commotion in the room. + +"Splendidly punted!" said the players. Chekalinsky shuffled the cards +afresh, and the game went on as usual. + + * * * * * + +Hermann went out of his mind, and is now confined in room number +seventeen of the Oboukhoff Hospital. He never answers any questions, +but he constantly mutters with unusual rapidity: "Three, seven, ace! +Three, seven, queen!" + +Lizaveta Ivanovna has married a very amiable young man, a son of the +former steward of the old Countess. He is in the service of the State +somewhere, and is in receipt of a good income. Lizaveta is also +supporting a poor relative. + +Tomsky has been promoted to the rank of captain, and has become the +husband of the Princess Pauline. + + +FOOTNOTES OF _THE QUEEN OF SPADES_: + +[1: Said of a card when it wins or loses in the quickest possible +time.] + +[2: Diminutive of Lizaveta (Elizabeth).] + + + +VERA JELIHOVSKY + + +_THE GENERAL'S WILL_ + + +I + +It happened in winter, just before the holidays. Ivan Feodorovitch +Lobnitchenko, the lawyer, whose office is in one of the main streets +of St. Petersburg, was called hurriedly to witness the last will and +testament of one at the point of death. The sick man was not strictly +a client of Ivan Feodorovitch; under other circumstances, he might +have refused to make this late call, after a day's heavy toil ... but +the dying man was an aristocrat and a millionaire, and such as he meet +no refusals, whether in life, or, much more, at the moment of death. + +Lobnitchenko, taking a secretary and everything necessary, with a sigh +scratched himself behind the ear, and thrusting aside the thought of +the delightful evening at cards that awaited him, set out to go to the +sick man. + +General Iuri Pavlovitch Nasimoff was far gone. Even the most +compassionate doctors did not give him many days to live, when he +finally decided to destroy the will which he had made long ago, not in +St. Petersburg, but in the provincial city where he had played the +Tsar for so many years. The general had come to the capital for a +time, and had lain down--to rise no more. + +This was the opinion of the physicians, and of most of those about +him; the sick man himself was unwilling to admit it. He was a +stalwart-hearted and until recently a stalwart-bodied old man, tall, +striking, with an energetic face, and a piercing, masterful glance, +hard to forget, even if you saw him only once. + +He was lying on the sofa, in a richly furnished hotel suite, +consisting of three of the best rooms. He received the lawyer gayly +enough. He himself explained the circumstances to him, though every +now and then compelled to stop by a paroxysm of pain, with difficulty +repressing the groans which almost escaped him, in spite of all his +efforts. During these heavy moments, Ivan Feodorovitch raised his eyes +buried in fat to the sick man's face, and his plump little features +were convulsed in sympathy with the sufferer's pain. As soon as the +courageous old man, fighting hard with the paroxysms of pain, had got +the better of them, taking his hands from his contorted face, and +drawing a painful breath, he began anew to explain his will. +Lobnitchenko dropped his eyes again and became all attention. + +The general explained in detail to the lawyer. He had been married +twice, and had three children, a son and a daughter from his first +marriage, who had long ago reached adultship, and a nine-year-old +daughter from his second marriage. His second wife and daughter he +expected every day; they were abroad, but would soon return. His elder +daughter would also probably come. + +The lawyer was not acquainted with Nazimoff's family; indeed he had +never before seen the general, though, like all Russia, he knew of him +by repute. But judging from the tone of contempt or of pity with which +he spoke of his second wife or her daughter, the lawyer guessed at +once that the general's home life was not happy. The further +explanations of the sick man convinced him of this. A new will was to +be drawn up, directly contrary to the will signed six years before, +which bequeathed to his second wife, Olga Vseslavovna, unlimited +authority over their little daughter, and her husband's entire +property. In the first will he had left nearly everything, with the +exception of the family estate, which he did not feel justified in +taking from his son, to his second wife and her daughter. Now he +wished to restore to his elder children the rights which he had +deprived them of, and especially to his eldest daughter, Anna Iurievna +Borissova, who was not even mentioned in the first will. In the new +will, with the exception of the seventh part, the widow's share, he +divided the whole of his land and capital between his children +equally; and he further appointed a strict guardianship over the +property of his little daughter, Olga Iurievna. + +The will was duly arranged, drawn up and witnessed, and after the +three witnesses had signed it, it was left, by the general's wish, in +his own keeping. + +"I will send it to you to take care of," he said to the lawyer. "It +will be safer in your hands than here, in my temporary quarters. But +first I wish to read it to my wife, and ... to my eldest daughter ... +if she arrives in time." + +The lawyer and the priest, who was one of the witnesses, were already +preparing to take leave of the general, when voices and steps were +heard in the corridor; a footman's head appeared through the door, +calling the doctor hurriedly forth. It appeared that the general's +lady had arrived suddenly, without letting anyone know by telegram +that she was coming. + +The doctor hastily slipped out of the room; he feared the result of +emotion on the sick man, and wished to warn the general's wife of his +grave danger, but the sick man noticed the move, and it was impossible +to guard him against disturbance. + +"What is going on there?" he asked. "What are you mumbling about, +Edouard Vicentevitch? Tell me what is the matter? Is it my daughter?" + +"Your excellency, I beg of you to take care of yourself!" the doctor +was beginning, evidently quite familiar with the general's family +affairs, and therefore dreading the meeting of husband and wife. "It +is not Anna Iurievna...." + +"Aha!" the sick man interrupted him; "she has come? Very well. Let her +come in. Only the little one ... I don't wish her to come ... to-day." + +Suffering was visible in his eyes, this time not bodily suffering. + +The door opened, with the rustling of a silk dress. A tall, +well-developed, and decidedly handsome woman appeared on the +threshold. She glanced at the pain-stricken face, which smiled +contemptuously toward her. In a moment she was beside the general, +kneeling beside him on the carpet, bending close to him, and pressing +his hand, as she repeated in a despairing whisper: + +"Oh, Georges! Georges! Is it really you, my poor friend?" + +It would be hard to define the expression of rapidly changing emotions +which passed over the sick man's face, which made his breast heave, +and his great heart quiver and tremble painfully. Displeasure and +pity, sympathy and contempt, anger and grief, all were expressed in +the short, sharp, bitter laugh, and the few words which escaped his +lips when he saw his little daughter timidly following her mother into +his room. + +"Do not teach her to lie!" and he nodded toward the child, and turned +toward the wall, with an expression of pain and pity on his face. The +lawyer and the priest hastened to take their leave and disappear. + +"Ah! Sinners! sinners!" muttered the latter, as he descended the +stairs. + +"Things are not in good shape between them?" asked Lobnitchenko. "They +don't get on well together?" + +"How should they be in good shape, when he came here to get a +divorce?" whispered the priest, shaping his fur cap. "But God decided +otherwise. Even without a divorce, he will be separated forever from +his wife!" + +"I don't believe he is so very far gone. He is a stalwart old man. +Perhaps he will pull through," went on the man of law. + +"God's hand is over all," answered the priest, shrugging his +shoulders. And so they went their different ways. + + +II + +"Olga!" cried the sick man, without turning round, and feeling near +him the swift movement of his wife, he pushed her away with an +impatient movement of his hand, and added, "Not you! my daughter +Olga!" + +"Olga! Go, my child, papa is calling you," cried the general's wife in +a soft voice, in French, to the little girl, who was standing +undecidedly in the center of the room. + +"Can you not drop your foreign phrases?" angrily interrupted the +general. "This is not a drawing-room! You might drop it, from a sense +of decency." + +His voice became shrill, and made the child shudder and begin to cry. +She went to him timidly. + +The general looked at her with an expression of pain. He drew her +toward him with his left hand, raising the right to bless her. + +"In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit!" he +whispered, making the sign of the cross over her. "God guard you from +evil, from every bad influence.... Be kind ... honest ... most of all, +be honest! Never tell lies. God guard you from falsehood, from lying, +even more than from sorrow!" + +Tears filled the dying man's eyes. Little Olga shuddered from head to +foot; she feared her father, and at the same time was so sorry for +him. But pity got the upper hand. She clung to him, wetting him with +her tears. Her father raised his hand, wishing to make the sign of the +cross once more over the little head which lay on his breast, but +could not complete the gesture. His hand fell heavily, his face was +once more contorted with pain; he turned to those who stood near him, +evidently avoiding meeting his wife's eyes, and whispered: + +"Take her away. It is enough. Christ be with her!" And for a moment he +collected strength to place his hand on the child's head. + +The doctor took the little girl by the hand, but her mother moved +quickly toward her. + +"Kiss him! Kiss papa's hand!" she whispered, "bid him good-by!" + +The general's wife sobbed, and covered her face with her handkerchief, +with the grand gesture of a stage queen. The sick man did not see +this. At the sound of her voice he frowned and closed his eyes tight, +evidently trying not to listen. The doctor led the little girl away to +another room and gave her to her governess. + +When he came back to the sick man the general, lying on the sofa, +still in the same position, and without looking at his wife who stood +beside his pillow, said to her: + +"I expect my poor daughter Anna, who has suffered so much injustice +through you.... I have asked her to forgive me. I shall pray her to be +a mother to her little sister.... I have appointed her the child's +guardian. She is good and honest ... she will teach the child no evil. +And this will be best for you also. You are provided for. You will +find out from the new will. You could not have had any profit from +being her guardian. If Anna does not consent to take little Olga to +live with her, and to educate her with her own children, as I have +asked her, Olga will be sent to a school. You will prefer liberty to +your daughter; it will be pleasanter for you. Is it not so?" + +Contempt and bitter irony were perceptible in his voice. His wife did +not utter a syllable. She remained so quiet that it might have been +thought she did not even hear him, but for the convulsive movement of +her lips, and of the fingers of her tightly clasped hands. + +The doctor once more made a movement to withdraw discreetly, but the +general's voice stopped him. "Edouard Vicentevitch? Is he here?" + +"I am here, your excellency," answered the doctor, bending over the +sick man. "Would not your excellency prefer to be carried to the bed? +It will be more comfortable lying down." + +"More comfortable to die?" sharply interrupted the general. "Why do +you drivel? You know I detest beds and blankets. Drop it! Here, take +this," and he gave him a sheet of crested paper folded in four, which +was lying beside him. "Read it, please. Aloud! so that she may know." + +He turned his eyes toward his wife. The doctor unwillingly began his +unpleasant task. He was a man of fine feeling, and although he had no +very high opinion of the general's wife, still she was a woman. And a +beautiful woman. He would have preferred that she should learn from +someone else how many of the pleasures of life were slipping away from +her, in virtue of the new will. But there was nothing for it but to do +as he was ordered. It was always hard to oppose Iuri Pavlovitch; now +it was quite impossible. + +Olga Vseslavovna listened to the reading of the will with complete +composure. She sat motionless, leaning back in an armchair, with +downcast eyes, and only showing her emotion when her husband was no +longer able to stifle a groan. Then she turned toward him her pale, +beautiful face, with evident signs of heartfelt sympathy, and was even +rising to come to his assistance. The sick man impatiently refused her +services, significantly turning his eyes toward the doctor, who was +reading his last will and testament, as though he would say: "Listen! +Listen! It concerns you." + +It did concern her, without a doubt. General Nazimoff's wife learned +that, instead of an income of a hundred thousand a year, which she had +had a right to expect, she could count only on a sum sufficient to +keep her from poverty; what in her opinion was a mere pittance. + +The doctor finished reading, coughing to hide his confusion, and +slowly folded the document. + +"You have heard?" asked the general, in a faint, convulsive voice. + +"I have heard, my friend," quietly answered his wife. + +"You have nothing to say?" + +"What can I say? You have a right to dispose of what belongs to +you.... But ... still I...." + +"Still you what?" sharply asked her husband. + +"Still, I hope, my friend, that this is not your last will...." + +General Nazimoff turned, and even made an effort to raise himself on +his elbow. + +"God willing, you will recover. Perhaps you will decide more than once +to make other dispositions of your property," calmly continued his +wife. + +The sick man fell back on the pillows. + +"You are mistaken. Even if I do not die, you will not be able to +deceive me again. This is my last will!" he replied convulsively. + +And with trembling hand he gave the doctor a bunch of keys. + +"There is the dispatch box. Please open it, and put the will in." + +The doctor obeyed his wish, without looking at Olga Vseslavovna. She, +on her part, did not look at him. Shrugging her shoulders at her +husband's last words, she remained motionless, noticing nothing except +his sufferings. His sufferings, it seemed, tortured her. + +Meanwhile the dying man followed the doctor with anxious eyes, and as +soon as the latter closed the large traveling dispatch box he +stretched out his hand to him for the keys. + +"So long as I am alive, I will keep them!" he murmured, putting the +bunch of keys away in his pocket. "And when I am dead, I intrust them +to you, Edouard Vicentevitch. Take care of them, as a last service to +me!" And he turned his face once more to the wall. + +"And now, leave me alone! The pain is less. Perhaps I shall go to +sleep. Leave me!" + +"My friend! Permit me to remain near you," the general's wife began, +bending tenderly over her husband. + +"Go!" he cried sharply. "Leave me in peace, I tell you!" + +She rose, trembling. The doctor hastily offered her his arm. She left +the room, leaning heavily on him, and once more covering her face with +her handkerchief, in tragic style. + +"Be calm, your excellency!" whispered the doctor sympathetically, only +half conscious of what he was saying. + +"These rooms have been prepared for you. You also need to rest, after +such a long journey." + +"Oh, I am not thinking about myself. I am so sorry for him. Poor, +poor, senseless creature. How much I have suffered at his hands. He +was always so suspicious, so hard to get on with. And whims and +fantasies without end. You know, doctor, I have sometimes even thought +he was not in full possession of his faculties." + +"Hm!" murmured the doctor, coughing in confusion. + +"Take this strange change of his will, for instance," the general's +wife continued, not waiting for a clearer expression of sympathy. +"Take his manner toward me. And for what reason?" + +"Yes, it is very sad," murmured the doctor. + +"Tell me, doctor, does he expect his son and daughter?" + +"Only his daughter, Anna Iurievna. She promised to come, with her +oldest children. A telegram came yesterday. We have been expecting her +all day." + +"What is the cause of this sudden tenderness? They have not seen each +other for ten years. Does he expect her husband, too? His son-in-law, +the pedagogue?" contemptuously asked the general's wife. + +"No! How could he come? He could not leave his service. And his son, +too, Peter Iurevitch, he cannot come at once. He is on duty, in +Transcaspia. It is a long way." + +"Yes, it is a long way!" assented the general's wife, evidently busy +with other thoughts. "But tell me, Edouard Vicentevitch, this new +will, has it been written long?" + +"It was drawn up only to-day. The draft was prepared last week, but +the general kept putting it off. But when his pains began this +morning...." + +"Is it the end? Is it dangerous?" interrupted Olga Vseslavovna. + +"Very--a very bad sign. When they began, Iuri Pavlovitch sent at once +for the lawyer. He was still here when you arrived." + +"Yes. And the old will, which he made before, has been destroyed?" + +"I do not know for certain. But I think not. Oh, no, I forgot. The +general was going to send a telegram." + +"Yes? to send a telegram?" + +The general's wife shrugged her shoulders, sadly shook her head, and +added: + +"He is so changeable! so changeable! But I think it is all the same. +According to law, only the last will is valid?" + +"Yes, without doubt; the last." + +The general's wife bowed her head. + +"What hurts me most," she whispered, with a bitter smile, bending +close to the young doctor, and leaning heavily on his arm, "what hurts +me most, is not the money. I am not avaricious. But why should he take +my child away from me? Why should he pass over her own mother, and +intrust her to her half-sister? A woman whom I do not know, who has +not distinguished herself by any services or good actions, so far as I +know. I shall not submit. I shall contest the will. The law must +support the right of the mother. What do you think, doctor?" + +The doctor hastily assented, though, to tell the truth, he was not +thinking of anything at the moment, except the strange manner in which +the general's wife, while talking, pressed close to her companion. + +At that moment a bell rang, and the general's loud voice was heard: + +"Doctor! Edouard Vicentevitch!" + +"Coming!" answered the doctor. + +And leaving Olga Vseslavovna at the threshold of her room, he ran +quickly to the sick man. + +"A vigorous voice--for a dying man! He shouts as he used to at the +manoeuvers!" thought the general's wife. + +And her handsome face at once grew dark with the hate which stole over +it. This was only a passing expression, however; it rapidly gave place +to sorrow, when she saw the manservant coming from the sick man. + +"What is the matter with your master, Yakov? Is he worse?" + +"No, madam. God has been gracious. He told me to push the box nearer +him, and ordered Edouard Vicentevitch to open it. He wants to send +some telegram or other." + +"Thank God, he is not worse. Yakov, I am going to send a telegram to +the station myself, in a few minutes, by my coachman. You can give him +the general's telegram, too." + +"Very well, madam." + +"And another thing. I shall not go to bed. If there is any change in +your master's condition, Yakov, come and knock at my door at once. I +beg of you, tell me the very moment anything happens. Here is +something for you, Yakov;--you have grown thin, waiting upon your +master!" + +"I thank you most humbly, your excellency. We must not grudge our +exertions," the man answered, putting a note of considerable value in +his pocket. + + +III + +Contrary to expectation, the night passed quietly enough. Emotion and +weariness claimed their own; Olga Vseslavovna, in spite of all her +efforts, fell into a sleep toward morning; and when she awoke, she +started in dismay, noticing that the sun had already climbed high in +the sky, and was pouring into her room. + +Her maid, a deft Viennese, who had remained with this accommodating +mistress for five years, quieted her by telling her that the master +was better, that he was still asleep, not having slept for the greater +part of the night. + +"The doctor and Yakov were busy with him most of the night," she +explained. "They were sorting all sorts of papers; some of them they +tied up, writing something on them; others they tore up, or threw into +the fire. The grate is full of ashes. Yakov told me." + +"And there were no more telegrams?" + +"No, madam, there were no more. Yakov and our Friedrich would have let +me know at once; I was there in the anteroom; they both kept coming +through on errands." + +"But there were no more telegrams, except the two that were sent +last night." + +Olga Vseslavovna dressed, breakfasted, and went to her husband. But at +the threshold of his room she was stopped by the direction of the sick +man to admit no one without special permission except the doctor, or +his eldest daughter, if she should come. + +"Tell Edouard Vicentevitch to come out to me," ordered the general's +wife. The doctor was called, and in great confusion confirmed the +general's orders. + +"But perhaps he did not think that such an order could apply to me?" +she said, astonished. + +The doctor apologized, but had to admit that it was she who was +intended, and that his excellency had sent word to her excellency that +she should not give herself the trouble of visiting him. + +"He is out of his mind," declared the general's wife quietly, but with +conviction, shrugging her shoulders. "Why should he hate me so--for +all my love to him, an old man, who might have been my father?" + +And Olga Vseslavovna once more took refuge in her pocket handkerchief, +this time, instead of tears, giving vent to sobs of vexation. The +doctor, always shy in the presence of women, stood with hanging head +and downcast eyes, as though he were to blame. + +"What is it they are saying about you burning papers all night?" Olga +Vseslavovna asked, in a weak voice. + +"Oh, not nearly all night. Iuri Pavlovitch remembered that he ought to +destroy some old letters and papers. There were some to be put in +order. There, in the box, there is a packet addressed to your +excellency. I was told to write the address." + +"Indeed! Could I not see it?" + +"Oh no, on no account. They are all locked up in the box along with +the last will. And the general has the keys." + +A bitter smile of humiliation played about the young woman's lips. + +"So the new will has not been burned yet?" she asked. + +And to the startled negative of the doctor, who repeated that "it was +lying on the top of the papers in the box," she added: + +"Well, it will be burned yet. Do not fear. Especially if God in His +mercy prolongs my husband's life. You see, he has always had a +mysterious passion for writing new documents, powers of attorney, +deeds of gift, wills, whatever comes into his mind. He writes new +ones, and burns the old ones. But what can you do? We must submit to +each new fancy. We cannot contradict a sick man." + +Olga Vseslavovna went back to her room. She only left her bedroom for +a few minutes that day, to hear the final word of the lights of the +medical profession, who had come together for a general consultation +in the afternoon; all the rest of the day she shut herself up. The +conclusions of the physicians, though they differed completely in +detail, were similar in the main, and far from comforting; the life +and continued suffering of the sick man could not last more than a few +days. + +In the evening a telegram came from Anna Iurievna; she informed her +father that she would be with him on the following day, at five in the +afternoon. + +"Shall I be able to hold out? Shall I last so long?" sighed the sick +man, all day long. And the more he was disturbed in mind, the more +threatening were his attacks of pain. He passed a bad night. Toward +morning a violent attack, much worse than any that had gone before, +almost carried him away. He could hardly breathe, owing to the sharp +suffering. Hot baths for his hands and steam inhalations no longer had +any beneficial effect, though they had alleviated his pain hitherto. + +The doctor, the Sister of Mercy, and the servant wore themselves out. +But still, as before, his wife alone was not admitted to him. She +raged with anger, trying, and not without success, to convince +everyone that she was going mad with despair. Little Olga had been +taken away on the previous day by a friend of the general's, to stay +there "during this terrible time." That night Madame Nazimoff did not +go to bed at all; and, as befitted a devoted wife, did not quit her +husband's door. When the violent attack just before dawn quieted down, +she made an attempt to go in to him; but no sooner did the sick man +see her at the head of his couch, on which he had at last been +persuaded to lie, than strong displeasure was expressed in his face, +and, no longer able to speak, he made an angry motion of his hand +toward her, and groaned heavily. The Sister of Mercy with great +firmness asked the general's wife not to trouble the sick man with her +presence. + +"And I am to put up with this. I am to submit to all this?" thought +Olga Vseslavovna, writhing with wrath. "To endure all this from him, +and after his death to suffer beggary? No, a thousand times no! Better +death than penury and such insults." And she fell into gloomy thought. + +That gesture of displeasure at the sight of his wife was the last +conscious act of Iuri Pavlovitch Nazimoff. At eight in the morning he +lost consciousness, in the midst of violent suffering, which lasted +until the end. By the early afternoon he was no more. + +During the last hour of his agony his wife knelt beside his couch +without let or hindrance, and wept inconsolably. The formidable +aristocrat and millionaire was dead. + +Everything went on along the usual lines. The customary stir and +unceremonious bustle, instead of cautious whispering, rose around the +dead body, in preparation for a fashionable funeral. No near relatives +were present except his wife, and she was confined to her room, +half-fainting, half-hysterical. All responsibility fell on the humble +doctor, and he busied himself indefatigably, conscientiously, in the +sweat of his brow, making every effort to omit nothing. But, as always +happens, he omitted the most important thing of all. The early +twilight was already descending on St. Petersburg, shrouded in chilly +mist, when Edouard Vicentevitch Polesski struck his brow in despair; +he had suddenly remembered the keys and the box, committed to his care +by the dying man. At that moment, the body, dressed in full uniform, +with all his regalia, was lying in the great, darkened room on a +table, covered with brocade, awaiting the coffin and the customary +wreaths. The doctor rushed into the empty bedroom. Everything in it +was already in order; the bed stood there, without mattress or +pillows. There was nothing on the dressing table, either. + +Where were the keys? Where was the box? The box was standing as +before, untouched, locked. His heart at once felt lighter. But the +keys? No doubt the police would come in a few minutes. It was +astonishing that they had not come already. They would seal +everything. Everything must be in order. Where was Yakov? Probably he +had taken them. Or ... the general's wife? + +Polesski rushed to look for the manservant, but could not find him. +There was so much to do; he had gone to buy something, to order +something. "Oh Lord! And the announcement?" he suddenly remembered. It +must be written at once, and sent to the newspapers. He must ask the +general's wife, however, what words he should use. However much he +might wish to avoid her, still she was now the most important person. +And he could ask at the same time whether she had seen the keys. + +The doctor went to the rooms of the general's wife. She was lying +down, suffering severely, but she came out to him. "What words was he +to use? It was all the same to her. 'With deep regret,' 'with +heartfelt sorrow,' what did she care? The keys? What keys? No! she had +not seen any keys, and did not know where they were. But why should he +be disturbed about them? The servants were trustworthy; nothing would +go astray." + +"Yes, but we must have them ready for the police. They will come in a +few minutes, to seal up the dead man's papers!" + +"To seal up the papers? Why?" + +"That is the law. So that everything should be intact, until after the +last will and testament of the deceased has been read, according to +his wishes." + +General Nazimoff's wife paled perceptibly. She knew nothing of such an +obstacle, and had not expected it. The doctor was too busy to notice +her pallor. + +"Very well; I shall write the announcement at once, and send it to the +newspapers. I suppose 'Novoe Vremya' and 'Novosti' will be enough?" + +"Do as you think best. Write it here, in my room. Here is everything +you require; pens, paper. Write, and then read it to me. I shall be +back in a moment. I want to put a bandage round my head. It aches so. +Wait for me here." And the general's wife went from the sitting-room +to her bedroom. + +"Rita!" she whispered to her faithful maid, who was hurriedly sewing a +mourning gown of crape for her. "Do not let the doctor go till I +return. Do you understand? Do what you please, but do not let him go." +The general's wife slipped from the bedroom into the passage through a +small side door, and disappeared. + +The two rooms between hers and the chamber where the dead man lay were +quite empty and nearly dark; there were no candles in them. From the +chamber came the feeble glimmer of the tiny lamps burning before the +icons.[Sacred images.] The tapers were not lit yet, as the deacon had +not yet arrived. He was to come at the same time as the priest and the +coffin. For the moment there was no one near the dead man; in the +anteroom sat the Sister of Mercy. + +"You wish to pray?" she asked the general's wife. + +"Yes, I shall pray there, in his room." + +She slipped past the dead body without looking at it, to the room that +had been the general's bedroom, and closed the door behind her. She +was afraid to lock it, and after all, was it necessary? It would only +take a moment. There it is, the box! She knows it of old! And she +knows its key of old, too; it is not so long since her husband had no +secrets from her. + +The key was quickly slipped into the lock, and the lid rose quickly. +The paper? That new, detestable paper, which might deprive her of +everything. Ah! there it is! + +To close the lid quickly, and turn the key in the lock; to hide the +keys somewhere; here, between the seat and the back of the sofa, on +which he lay. That's it! + +A sigh of relief from fear escaped the beautiful lips of the handsome +woman, lips which were pale through those terrible days. She could +feel secure at last! + +She must look at the document, the proof of his cruelty, his +injustice, his stupidity! She must make sure that there was no +mistake! Olga Vseslavovna went up to the window, and taking advantage +of the last ray of the gray day, unfolded the will. + +"In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit!" she read. +Yes, that is it, the will. + +"How he pronounced those same words, when he was blessing little +Olga," she remembered. "Blessing her! And his hand did not tremble, +when he signed this. To deprive her, to deprive them both, of +everything, all on account of those hated people? But now--it should +never be! On no account! Your down-at-the-heel pedagogue shall not +strut about in peacock's feathers! Olga and I ... require the money +more!" + +And the general's wife was tempted to snap her fingers in triumph in +the direction of the dead man. + +Suddenly, quite close to the door, the sound of steps was heard. Good +heavens! And she held the big sheet of crested paper in her hand! +Where could she put it? She had no time to think of folding it up. +There! they are coming in already! Who can it be? + +And the will lay on the floor, the general's wife kneeling on it, as +on a prayer carpet, in an attitude of prayer, her clasped hands on the +window sill, her wet eyes fixed on a faintly twinkling star, as though +calling heaven to witness her inconsolable grief and bereavement. + +It was only the Sister of Mercy. + +"Madam, the people have come, bringing the coffin; and I think the +police have also come." + +"Yes, in a moment. Tell them I am coming immediately." + +The Sister of Mercy went out. + +"See how she loved her husband. And why was he so unjust to her at the +last?" she involuntarily reproached the dead general. + +Meanwhile the general's wife had risen hastily, folded the will as +best she could, in four, in eight folds, and crushing it together in +her hand, went quietly from the room, which now filled her with dread. + +She was so confused that she did not even think of looking for her +pocket; she simply held her packet tight, and let her hand hang down, +hiding it in the folds of her wide dressing-gown. There seemed to be +so many people in the room which a moment before was empty, that she +felt cowed. Her heart beat pitilessly, and the blood throbbed so +violently in her temples that she could not understand what was said +to her. They were asking her if they might place the body in the +coffin, which had already been placed beside it. Her silence was taken +as consent. The skilful undertakers easily lifted the already rigid +body. + +Olga Vseslavovna stood at the head of the dead general. Among the +crowd of undertakers and servants, she suddenly saw coming toward her, +with outstretched hand, and with tears of compassion in her eyes, the +Princess Ryadski, the same aristocratic kinswoman who had already +taken little Olga to stay with her. + +"I must shake hands with her! And that horrible packet is in my hand! +Where shall I put it? How can I hide it?" Before her eyes gleamed the +brilliantly lighted, ashen forehead of the dead man, helplessly bent +backward and sideways, as the whole body was suspended in the hands of +the undertakers, over its last abode. + +A saving thought! + +The general's wife bent gently over the dead body. She gently +supported the head of the corpse, gently laid it on the satin cushion, +straightened the frills which surrounded the hard pillow, and, +unperceived, left under it the twisted roll of paper. + +"It will be safer there!" The thought flashed through her mind. "He +wanted to keep his will himself; well, keep it to eternity, now! What +more can you ask?" + +And it even seemed ludicrous to her. She could hardly restrain a smile +of triumph, changing it into a sad smile of grief, in reply to her +kinswoman's condolences. The coffin was already lying in state on the +bier; it was covered with brocade and flowers. The princess, as +kinswoman of the late general, bent low, and first laid on the dead +body the wreath she had brought with her. + +"The poor sufferer has entered into rest," she whispered, shaking her +head. "Will the funeral service be soon? Where will it be? Where is +Olga Vseslavovna?" + +"She will be here in a moment," the Sister of Mercy whispered, deeply +affected; "she has gone to fix herself. They will begin the funeral +service in a few minutes, and she is all in disorder. She is in great +grief. Will you not take a seat?" + +"What? Sit down? Thank you," loftily replied the princess. And she +went toward a dignified personage who was entering, adorned with many +orders and an aristocratic beard. + +The general's wife soon came to herself. "Rita! I must wash and dress +as quickly as possible. Ah! pray forgive me, doctor! They called me +away to my husband. They were placing him in the coffin." She sighed +deeply. "What is this? Oh, yes, the announcement of his death. Very +good. Send it, please. But I must dress at once. The funeral service +will begin immediately." + +"Doctor! Is the doctor here?" an anxious voice sounded in the +corridor. + +"I am coming! What is it?" + +"Please come quick, Edouard Vicentevitch!" Yakov called him. "The lady +is very ill downstairs; Anna Iurievna, the general's daughter! I was +out to order the flowers; I come back, and see the lady lying in a +faint in the entrance. She had just arrived, and asked; and they +answered her that he was dead, without the slightest preparation! And +she could not bear it, and fainted." + +Yakov said all this as they went. + +"Actress!" angrily thought Olga Vseslavovna. And immediately she added +mentally, "Well, she may stand on her head now, it is all the same to +me!" + + +IV + +Whether it was all the same to her or not, the deep despair of the +daughter, who had not been in time to bid her father farewell, had not +been in time to receive his blessing, after many years of anger, which +had borne heavily on the head of the blameless young woman, was so +evidently sincere, and produced such a deep impression on everyone, +that her stepmother also was moved. + +Anna Iurievna resembled her father, as much as a young, graceful, +pretty woman can resemble an elderly man with strongly-marked features +and athletic frame, such as was General Nazimoff. But in spite of the +delicacy of her form, and the gentleness of her eyes, her glance +sometimes flashed fire in a manner very like the flashing eyes of her +father, and in her strong will, firm character, and inflexible +adherence to what she believed to be necessary and right, Anna was +exactly like her father. + +For nearly ten years his daughter had obediently borne his anger; from +the day of her marriage to the man she loved, whom evil-minded people +had succeeded in calumniating in the general's mind. Though writing +incessantly to him, begging him to pardon her, to understand that he +had made a mistake, that her husband was a man of honor, and that she +would be fully and perfectly happy, but for the burden of her father's +wrath, and of the separation from him, she had never until the last +few weeks received a reply from him. But quite recently something +mysterious had happened. Not only had her father written to her that +he wished to see her and her children in St. Petersburg, whither he +was just setting out, but a few days later he had written again, a +long, tender letter, in which he had asked her forgiveness. Without +giving any explanations, he said that he had received indubitable +proofs of the innocence and chivalrous honor of her husband; that he +felt himself deeply guilty toward him, and was miserable on account of +the injustice he had committed. In the following letters, praying his +daughter to hasten her coming, because he was dangerously ill, and the +doctors thought could not last long, he filled her with astonishment +by expressing his intention to make a new will, and his determination +to separate his youngest daughter "from such a mother," and by his +prayers to her and her husband not to refuse to take upon themselves +little Olga's education. + +"What had happened? How could that light-minded woman have so deeply +wounded my father?" Anna asked in bewilderment. + +"If she was merely light-minded!" her husband answered, shrugging his +shoulders. "But she is so malicious, so crafty, and so daring that +anything may be expected from her." + +"But in that case there would be an open scandal. We would know +something for certain. Nowadays they even relate such stories in the +newspapers, and my father is so well known, so noteworthy!" + +"That is just why they don't write about him!" answered Borisoff, her +husband, smiling. He himself flatly refused to go to St. Petersburg. +With horror he remembered the first year of his marriage, before he +had succeeded in obtaining a transfer to another city, and was +compelled to meet the woman he detested; compelled also to meet his +father-in-law, a wise and honorable old man, who had fallen so +completely into the toils of this crafty woman. Anna Iurievna knew +that her husband despised her stepmother; that he detested her as the +cause of all the grief which they had had to endure through her, and +most of all, on account of the injustice she was guilty of toward her +brother, the general's son. + +For six years Borisoff had lived with young Peter Nazimoff, as his +tutor and teacher, and loved him sincerely. The boy had already +reached the highest class at school, when his sister, two years older +than he, finished her schooling, and returned to her father's house, +about the time of the general's second marriage. What the young tutor +tried not to notice and to endure, for love of his pupil, in the first +year of the general's second marriage, became intolerable when the +general's daughter returned home, and to all the burden of his +difficult position was added the knowledge of their mutual love. He +proceeded frankly, and the whole matter was soon settled. But the +young man had never uttered a syllable as to the cause of Madame +Nazimoff's hatred for him. For the sake of his father-in-law's peace +of mind, he sincerely hoped that he would never know. Anna was +convinced that the whole cause of her step-mother's hostility was her +prejudice against what was in her opinion a _mesalliance_. In part she +was right, but the chief reason of this hostility remained forever a +secret to her. Unfortunately, it was not equally a secret to her +father. + +Of late years he had gradually been losing faith in his second wife's +character. It went so far that the general felt much more at ease when +she was away. Before the last illness of Iuri Pavlovitch, which, to +tell the truth, was almost his first, Olga Vseslavovna had gone abroad +with her daughter, intending to travel for a year; but she had hardly +been gone two months when the general unexpectedly determined to go to +St. Petersburg to seek a divorce, to see his elder daughter, and +change his will. Perhaps he would never have determined on such +decisive measures had not something wholly unexpected taken place. + +Borisoff was quite mistaken in thinking that he had so carefully +destroyed all the letters which the general's young wife had written +to him, before his marriage to Anna, that no material evidence of Olga +Vseslavovna's early design of treachery remained. Even before she +married the general, she had had a confidential servant, who carried +out many commissions for the beautiful young woman, whose fame had +gone abroad through the three districts along the Volga, the arena of +her early triumphs. Later, the young lady found a new favorite in +foreign lands--the same Rita who was still with her. Martha, the +Russian confidential servant, heartily detested the German girl, and +such strife arose between them that not only the general's wife, but +even the general himself, was deprived of peace and tranquillity. +Martha was no fool; Olga Vseslavovna had to be careful with her; she +did take care, but she herself did not know to what an extent she was +in the woman's power. Foreseeing a black day of ingratitude, Martha, +with wonderful forethought, had put on one side one or two letters +from each series of her mistress' secret correspondence, which always +passed through her hands. Perhaps she would not have made such a bad +use of them but for her mistress' last, intolerable insult. Prizing in +her servants, next to swift obedience, a knowledge of languages, her +mistress did not make use of her when travelling abroad; but hitherto +she had taken both servants with her. But on her last journey she was +so heartily tired of Martha, and her perpetual tears and quarrels, +that she determined to get on without her, the more so that her +daughter's governess was also traveling with her. Her company was +growing too numerous. + +There was no limit to Martha's wrath when she learned that she was +going to be left behind. Her effrontery was so great that she advised +her mistress "for her own sake" not to put such an affront upon her, +since she would not submit to it without seeking revenge. But her +mistress never dreamed of what Martha was planning, and what a risk +she ran. + +Hardly had the general's wife departed when Martha asked the general +to let her leave, saying she would find work elsewhere. The general +saw no way of keeping her; and he did not even wish to do so, thinking +her only a quarrelsome, ill-tempered woman. The confidential servant +left the house, and even the city. And immediately her revenge and +torture of the general began, cutting straight at the root of his +happiness, his health, even his life. He began to receive, almost +daily, letters from different parts of Russia, for Martha had plenty +of friends and chums. With measureless cruelty Martha began by sending +the less important documents, still signed with her mistress' maiden +name; then two or three letters from the series of the most recent +times, and finally there came a whole packet of those sent by the +general's wife to the tutor, in the first year of her marriage with +the general, before Borisoff had met Anna. + +The crafty Martha, knowing perfectly the whole state of affairs to +which these letters referred, often copied out their contents, and +kept the letters themselves concealed, saying to herself, "God knows +what may turn up, some day! + +"If they are no use, I can burn them. But they may be useful. It is +always a good thing to keep our masters in our power," argued the +sagacious woman, and she was not mistaken in her calculations, +although these letters served not for her profit, but only for a +sanguinary revenge. + +These notes and letters, which finally opened his eyes to the true +character of his wife, and his own crying injustice to his elder +children, were now lying in the general's dispatch box, in a neatly +tied packet, directed in the doctor's handwriting to "Her Excellency +Olga Vseslavovna Nazimoff." + +As soon as she received her father's first letter Anna began to get +ready to go to St. Petersburg, but unfortunately she was kept back by +the sickness, first of one child, then of another. But for his last +telegrams, she would not have started even now, because she did not +realize the dangerous character of his illness. But now, finding that +she had come too late, the unhappy woman could not forgive herself. + +Everyone was grieved to see her bitter sorrow, after the funeral +service for her father. Princess Ryadski burst into tears, as she +looked at her; and all the acquaintances and relations of the general +were far more disturbed by her despair than by the general's death. +Olga Vseslavovna was secretly scandalized at such lack of +self-control, but outwardly she seemed greatly touched and troubled by +the situation of her poor stepdaughter. But she did not venture to +express her sympathy too openly in the presence of others, remembering +the words of "the crazy creature" when she had come to herself after +her fainting fit, and her stepmother had hurried up to embrace her. + +"Leave me!" Anna had cried, when she saw her. "I cannot bear to see +you! You killed my father!" + +It was well that there were only servants in the ante-room. But the +general's wife did not wish to risk another such scene, now that so +many people were present. And besides she was extremely disturbed; the +friends who had come to the funeral service had brought flowers; and +the half-crazy princess, with the aid of two other ladies, had taken a +fancy to decorate the coffin, and especially the head, with them. It +is impossible to describe what Olga Vseslavovna suffered, as she +watched all those hands moving about among the folds of the muslin, +the frills, the covering, almost under the satin cushion even; a +little more and she would have fainted in earnest. + +She had always boasted that she had strong nerves, and this was quite +true; nevertheless, during these days, their strength was evidently +giving way, as she could not get to sleep for a long time that night, +and heaven only knows what fancies passed through her mind. It was +almost morning before Olga Vseslavovna got to sleep, and even then it +was not for long. + +She dreamed that she was descending endless stairs and dark corridors, +with a heavy, shapeless burden on her shoulders. A bright, +constantly-changing flame flickered before her; now red, now yellow, +now green, it flitted before her from side to side. She knew that if +she could reach it, the burden would fall from her. But the light +seemed to be taunting her, now appearing, now disappearing, and +suddenly going out altogether. And she found herself in the darkness, +in a damp cellar, seemingly empty, but filled with something's +invisible presence. What was it? She did not know. But this pervading +something frightened her terribly, smothered her, pressing on her from +all sides, depriving her of air. She was choking! Terror seized her at +the thought that it ... was Death! Must she die? Was it possible? But +that brightly shining light had just promised her life, gayety, +brilliance! She must hurry to overtake it. And she tried to run. But +her feet would not obey her; she could not move. + +"Heaven! Heaven!" she cried, "but what is it? Whence has such a +disaster come? What is holding me? Let me go, or I shall be smothered +in this stench, under this intolerable burden!" + +Suddenly Iuri Pavlovitch walked past her. She immediately recognized +him, and joyfully caught at his cloak. "Iuri! Forgive me! Help me!" +she cried. + +Her husband stopped, looked sadly at her, and answered: "I would +gladly help you, but you yourself hinder me. Let me go; I must fulfill +your directions." + +At that moment she awoke. She was bathed in a cold perspiration, and +clutched wildly at the coverlet with both hands. There was no one near +her, but she clearly felt someone's presence, and was convinced that +she had really seen her husband a moment before. In her ears resounded +his words: "I must fulfill your directions!" Directions? What +directions? + +She sprang up, and began to feel about over the carpet with her bare +feet, looking for her slippers. A terrible thought had come into her +mind. She felt that she must settle it at once. She must take the +will, take it away from there! burn it! destroy it! She feverishly +drew on her dressing gown, and threw a shawl over her shoulders. + +"Rita! Get up quick! Quick! Come!" + +The frightened maid rose, still half asleep, and rubbed her eyes, +understanding nothing. Her mistress' ice-cold hands clutched her, and +dragged her somewhere. + +"Ach lieber Gott ... Gott in Himmel!" she muttered. "What has +happened? What do you want?" + +"Hush! Come quick!" And Olga Vseslavovna, with a candle in her +trembling hand, went forward, dragging the trembling Rita with her. +She opened the door of her bedroom, and went out. All the doors were +open _en suite_, and straight in front of her, in the center of the +fourth, shone the coffin of her husband, covered with cloth of gold +and lit up by the tall tapers standing round the bier. + +"What does it mean?" whispered the general's wife. "Why have they +opened all the doors?" + +"I do not know ... they were all closed last night," murmured the maid +in reply, her teeth chattering with fear. She longed to ask her +mistress whither they were going, and what for? She wanted to stop, +and not enter the funeral chamber; but she was afraid to speak. + +They passed quickly through the rooms; at the door of the last the +general's wife set her candle down on a chair, and halted for a +moment. The loud snoring of the reader startled them both. + +"It is the deacon!" whispered the general's wife reassuringly. Rita +had hardly strength to nod assent. All the same, the healthy snoring +of a living man comforted her. Without moving from where she stood, +the maid tremblingly drew her woolen shawl closer about her, trying to +see the sofa on which the deacon lay. + +Knitting her brows, and biting her lips till they were sore, Olga +Vseslavovna went forward determinedly to the bier. She thrust both +hands under the flowers on the pillow. The frill was untouched. The +satin of the cushion was there, but where was ...? Her heart, that had +been beating like a hammer, suddenly stopped and stood still. There +was not a trace of the will! + +"Perhaps I have forgotten. Perhaps it was on the other side," thought +Olga Vseslavovna, and went round to the left side of the coffin. + +No! It was not there, either! Where was it? Who could have taken it? +Suddenly her heart failed her utterly, and she clutched at the edge of +the coffin to keep herself from falling. It seemed to her that under +the stiff, pallid, rigidly clasped hands of the dead general something +gleamed white through the transparent muslin of the covering, +something like a piece of paper. + +"Nonsense! Self-suggestion! It is impossible! Hallucination!" The +thought flashed through her tortured brain. She forced herself to be +calm, and to look again. + +Yes! She had not been mistaken. The white corner of a folded paper +appeared clearly against the general's dark uniform. At the same +moment a cold draught coming from somewhere set the tapers flickering. +Shadows danced around the room, over the bier, across the dead man's +face; and in the quick change of light and shadow it seemed to her +that the rigid features became more living, that a mournful smile +formed itself on the closed lips, that the tightly-shut eyelids +quivered. A wild cry rang through the whole room. With a desperate +shriek: "His eyes! He is looking at me!" the general's wife staggered +forward and fell fainting to the floor, beside her husband's bier. + + +V + +The deacon sprang from his sofa with a cry, and an answering cry came +from the lips of the shivering Rita, as she fled from the room. +Servants rushed in, rubbing their eyes, still half-asleep, questioning +each other, running this way and that. The deacon, spurred by a +feeling of guilt, was determined to conceal the fact that he was +sleeping. "It was the lady!" he said. "She came in to pray; she told +me to stop reading while she prayed. She knelt down. Then she prayed +for a long time, and suddenly ... suddenly she cried out, and fainted. +Grief, brothers! It is terrible! To lose such a husband!" and he set +them to work with restoratives, himself rubbing the fallen woman's +chilly hands. + +The general's wife opened her eyes after a few minutes. + +Looking wildly round in bewilderment, she seemed to be wondering where +she was and how she had come there. Suddenly she remembered. + +"The will! In his hands! Take it!" she cried, and fainted again. By +this time the whole household was awake. Anna Iurievna had come in, +full of astonishment at the sudden disturbance, but with the same +feeling of deep quiet and peace still filling her heart and giving her +features an expression of joy and calm. She heard the cry of the +general's wife, and the words were recorded in her mind, though she +did not at first give them any meaning. + +She set herself, with all the tenderness of a good woman, to minister +to the other's need, sending her own maid for sal volatile, chafing +the fainting woman's hands, and giving orders that a bed should be +prepared for her in another room, further away from the bier. As she +spoke, quietly, gravely, with authority, the turmoil gradually +subsided. The frightened servants recovered themselves, and moved +about with the orderly obedience they ordinarily showed; and the +deacon, above all anxious to cover his negligence, began intoning the +liturgy, lending an atmosphere of solemnity to the whole room. + +The servants, returning to announce that the bedroom was ready, were +ordered by Anna Iurievna to lift the fainting woman with all care and +gentleness, and she herself went with them to see the general's wife +safely bestowed in her room, and waited while the doctor did all in +his power to make her more comfortable. Olga Vseslavovna did not at +once recover consciousness. She seemed to pass from a faint into an +uneasy slumber, which, however, gradually became more quiet. + +Only then, as she was leaving the room, did Anna Iurievna bethink her +of the strange words that had fallen on her ears: "The will! In his +hands! Take it!" And repeating them questioningly to herself, she +walked slowly back toward the room in which lay her father's body. + +But she was even more occupied with her own thoughts. She no longer +felt in her heart the bitter resentment toward Olga Vseslavovna that +had filled it yesterday. She was conscious of a feeling of sorrow for +the helpless woman, of compassion for her empty, shallow life, the +fruit of an empty, shallow heart. And she was wondering why such +empty, joyless lives should exist in a world where there was such deep +happiness and joy. + +She came over to her father's coffin, close to which the deacon was +still droning out his liturgy, and stood beside the dead body, looking +down at the strong, quiet face, and vividly recalling her dream of the +night before. Her eyes rested on the many stars and medals on his +breast, and on his hands, quietly clasped in death. Then suddenly, and +quite mechanically, Olga Vseslavovna's cry, as she returned to +consciousness, came back into her mind: + +"The will! In his hands! Take it!" And bending down, she noted for the +first time something white beneath the muslin canopy. As she +scrutinized it wonderingly, she was conscious of an humble, apologetic +voice murmuring something at her elbow: + +"Forgive me, Anna Iurievna. I humbly beg you, forgive me! It was I ... +in the night ... the flowers fell .... I was putting them back ... +fixing the head of your sainted papa .... It was under his head, the +paper ... I thought he wanted to keep it .... I put it in his hands, +to be safe! ... Forgive me, Anna Iurievna, if I have done any harm." + +It was the deacon, still oppressed by a feeling of guilt. Anna. +Iurievna turned to him, and then turned back again, to her father's +body, to the white object shining under the muslin canopy. And once +more Olga Vseslavovna's words came into her mind: + +"The will! In his hands! Take it!" + +Gently raising the canopy, she softly drew the paper from beneath the +general's clasped hands, and unfolded it. She read no more than the +opening words, but she had read enough to realize that it was, indeed, +her father's will. + + + +FEODOR MIKHAILOVITCH DOSTOYEVSKY + + +_CRIME AND PUNISHMENT_[1] + + +One sultry evening early in July a young man emerged from the small +furnished lodging he occupied in a large five-storied house in the +Pereoulok S----, and turned slowly, with an air of indecision, toward +the K----bridge. He was fortunate enough not to meet his landlady on +the stairs. She occupied the floor beneath him, and her kitchen, with +its usually open door, was entered from the staircase. Thus, whenever +the young man went out, he found himself obliged to pass under the +enemy's fire, which always produced a morbid terror, humiliating him +and making him knit his brows. He owed her some money and felt afraid +of encountering her. + +It was not that he had been terrified or crushed by misfortune, but +that for some time past he had fallen into a state of nervous +depression akin to hypochondria. He had withdrawn from society and +shut himself up, till he was ready to shun, not merely his landlady, +but every human face. Poverty had once weighed him down, though, of +late, he had lost his sensitiveness on that score. He had given up all +his daily occupations. In his heart of hearts he laughed scornfully at +his landlady and the extremities to which she might proceed. Still, to +be waylaid on the stairs, to have to listen to all her jargon, hear +her demands, threats, and complaints, and have to make excuses and +subterfuges in return--no, he preferred to steal down without +attracting notice. On this occasion, however, when he had gained the +street, he felt surprised himself at this dread of meeting the woman +to whom he was in debt. + +"Why should I be alarmed by these trifles when I am contemplating such +a desperate deed?" thought he, and he gave a strange smile. "Ah, well, +man holds the remedy in his own hands, and lets everything go its own +way, simply through cowardice--that is an axiom. I should like to know +what people fear most:--whatever is contrary to their usual habits, I +imagine. But I am talking too much. I talk and so I do nothing, though +I might just as well say, I do nothing and so I talk. I have acquired +this habit of chattering during the last month, while I have been +lying for days together in a corner, feeding my mind on trifles. Come, +why am I taking this walk now? Am I capable of _that_? Can _that_ +really be serious? Not in the least. These are mere chimeras, idle +fancies that flit across my brain!" + +The heat in the streets was stifling. The crowd, the sight of lime, +bricks, scaffolding, and the peculiar odor so familiar to the nostrils +of the inhabitant of St. Petersburg who has no means of escaping to +the country for the summer, all contributed to irritate the young +man's already excited nerves. The reeking fumes of the dram shops, so +numerous in this part of the city, and the tipsy men to be seen at +every point, although it was no holiday, completed the repulsive +character of the scene. Our hero's refined features betrayed, for a +moment, an expression of bitter disgust. We may observe casually that +he was not destitute of personal attractions; he was above middle +height, with a slender and well-proportioned figure, and he had dark +auburn hair and fine dark eyes. In a little while he sank into a deep +reverie, or rather into a sort of mental torpor. He walked on without +noticing, or trying to notice, his surroundings. Occasionally he +muttered a few words to himself; as if, as he himself had just +perceived, this had become his habit. At this moment it dawned upon +him that his ideas were becoming confused and that he was very feeble; +he had eaten nothing worth mentioning for the last two days. + +His dress was so miserable that anyone else might have scrupled to go +out in such rags during the daytime. This quarter of the city, indeed, +was not particular as to dress. In the neighborhood of the Cyennaza or +Haymarket, in those streets in the heart of St. Petersburg, occupied +by the artisan classes, no vagaries in costume call forth the least +surprise. Besides the young man's fierce disdain had reached such a +pitch, that, notwithstanding his extreme sensitiveness, he felt no +shame at exhibiting his tattered garments in the street. He would have +felt differently had he come across anyone he knew, any of the old +friends whom he usually avoided. Yet he stopped short on hearing the +attention of passers-by directed to him by the thick voice of a tipsy +man shouting: "Eh, look at the German hatter!" The exclamation came +from an individual who, for some unknown reason, was being jolted away +in a great wagon. The young man snatched off his hat and began to +examine it. It was a high-crowned hat that had been originally bought +at Zimmermann's, but had become worn and rusty, was covered with dents +and stains, slit and short of a brim, a frightful object in short. Yet +its owner, far from feeling his vanity wounded, was suffering rather +from anxiety than humiliation. + +"I suspected this," muttered he, uneasily, "I foresaw it. That's the +worst of it! Some wretched trifle like this might spoil it all. Yes, +this hat is certainly too remarkable; it looks so ridiculous. I must +get a cap to suit my rags; any old thing would be better than this +horror. Hats like these are not worn; this one would be noticeable a +_verst_[2] off; it would be remembered; people would think of it again +some time after, and it might furnish a clew. I must attract as little +attention as possible just now. Trifles become important, everything +hinges on them." + +He had not far to go; he knew the exact distance between his lodging +and present destination--just seven hundred and thirty paces. He had +counted them when his plan only floated through his brain like a vague +dream. At that time, he himself would not have believed it capable of +realization; he merely dallied in fancy with a chimera which was both +terrible and seductive. But a month had elapsed, and he had already +begun to view it in a different light. Although he reproached himself +throughout his soliloquies with irresolution and a want of energy, he +had accustomed himself, little by little, and, indeed, in spite of +himself, to consider the realization of his dream a possibility, +though he doubted his own resolution. He was but just now rehearsing +his enterprise, and his agitation was increasing at every step. + +His heart sank, and his limbs trembled nervously, as he came to an +immense pile of building facing the canal on one side and the street +on the other. This block was divided into a host of small tenements, +tenanted by all sorts of trades. People were swarming in and out +through the two doors. There were three or four _dvorniks_[3] +belonging to the house, but the young man, to his great satisfaction, +came across none of them, and, escaping notice as he entered, mounted +at once the stairs on the right hand. He had already made acquaintance +with this dark and narrow staircase, and its obscurity was grateful to +him; it was gloomy enough to hide him from prying eyes. "If I feel so +timid now, what will it be when I come to put my plan into execution?" +thought he, as he reached the fourth floor. Here he found the passage +blocked; some military porters were removing the furniture from a +tenement recently occupied, as the young man knew, by a German +official and his family. "Thanks to the departure of this German, for +some time to come there will be no one on this landing but the old +woman. It is as well to know this, at any rate," thought he to +himself, as he rang the old woman's bell. It gave a faint sound, as if +it were made of tin instead of copper. In houses of this sort, the +smaller lodgings generally have such bells. + +He had forgotten this; the peculiar tinkling sound seemed to recall +something to his memory, for he gave a shiver--his nerves were very +weak. In another moment the door was opened part way, and the occupant +of the rooms stood examining her visitor through the opening with +evident suspicion, her small eyes glimmering through the darkness like +luminous points. But when she saw the people on the landing, she +seemed reassured, and flung the door open. The young man entered a +gloomy ante-chamber, divided by a partition, behind which was a small +kitchen. The old woman stood silently in front of him, eying him +keenly. She was a thin little creature of sixty, with a small sharp +nose, and eyes sparkling with malice. Her head was uncovered, and her +grizzled locks shone with grease. A strip of flannel was wound round +her long thin neck, and, in spite of the heat, she wore a shabby +yellow fur tippet on her shoulders. She coughed incessantly. The young +man was probably eying her strangely, for the look of mistrust +suddenly reappeared on her face. + +"The Student Raskolnikoff. I called on you a month ago," said the +visitor, hurriedly, with a slight bow. He had suddenly remembered that +he must make himself more agreeable. + +"I remember, _batuchka_, I remember it well," returned the old woman, +still fixing her eyes on him suspiciously. + +"Well, then, look here. I have come again on a similar errand," +continued Raskolnikoff, somewhat surprised and uneasy at being +received with so much distrust. "After all, this may be her usual +manner, though I did not notice it before," thought he, unpleasantly +impressed. + +The old woman remained silent a while, and seemed to reflect. Then, +pointing to the door of the inner room, she drew back for her visitor +to pass, and said, "Come in, _batuchka._"[4] + +The small room into which the young man was ushered was papered with +yellow; there were geraniums and muslin curtains in the windows, and +the setting sun shed a flood of light on the interior. "The sun will +shine on it just the same _then_!" said Raskolnikoff all at once to +himself, as he glanced rapidly round to take in the various objects +and engrave them on his memory. The room, however, contained nothing +remarkable. The yellow wood furniture was all very old. A couch with a +shelving back, opposite which stood an oval table, a toilet-table with +a pier glass attached, chairs lining the walls, and two or three poor +prints representing German girls with birds in their hands, completed +the inventory. A lamp was burning in one corner in front of a small +image. The floor and furniture were clean and well polished. +"Elizabeth attends to that," thought the young man. It would have been +difficult to find a speck of dust on anything. "It is only in the +houses of these dreadful old widows that such order is to be seen," +continued Raskolnikoff to himself, looking with curiosity at the +chintz curtain overhanging the door which led into a second small +room, in which he had never set foot; it contained the old woman's bed +and chest of drawers. The apartment consisted of these two rooms. + +"What is it you want?" asked the mistress of the house dryly; she had +followed her visitor in, and planted herself in front of him to +examine him more closely. + +"I have come to pawn something, that is all!" With this he drew from +his pocket a flat old silver watch. A globe was engraved inside the +lid, and the chain was of steel. + +"But you have not repaid the sum I lent you before. It was due two +days ago." + +"I will pay you the interest for another month; have a little +patience." + +"I may have patience or I may sell your pledge at once, _batuchka_, +just whichever I like." + +"What will you give me on this watch, Alena Ivanovna?" + +"That is a wretched thing, _batuchka_, worth a mere nothing. Last time +I lent you two small notes on your ring, when I could have bought a +new one at the jeweler's for a ruble and a half." + +"Give me four rubles, and I will redeem it; it belonged to my father. +I expect some money soon." + +"A ruble and a half! and I shall take the interest in advance." + +"A ruble and a half!" protested the young man. + +"Please yourself whether you take it or not." So saying, the old woman +tendered back the watch. Her visitor took it and was about to depart +in vexation, when he reflected that this money lender was his last +resource--and, besides, he had another object in coming. + +"Come, fork out!" said he in a rough tone. + +The old woman fumbled in her pockets for her keys, and passed on into +the adjoining room. The young man, left standing there alone, pricked +up his ears and began to make various inductions. He heard this female +usurer open her drawer. "It must be the top one," was his conclusion. +"I know now that she carries her keys in her right pocket--they are +all hung on a steel ring--one of them is three times as large as the +rest, and has the wards toothed; that cannot be the key of her +drawer--then she must have some strong box or safe. It is curious that +the keys of strong boxes should be generally like that--but, after +all, how ignoble!" + +The old woman reappeared. "See here, _batuchka_: if I take a +ten-kopeck piece a month on each ruble, I ought to receive fifteen +kopecks on a ruble and a half, the interest being payable in advance. +Then, as you ask me to wait another month for the repayment of the two +rubles I have already lent you, you owe me twenty kopecks more, which +makes a total of five and thirty. What, therefore, I have to advance +upon your watch is one ruble fifteen kopecks. Here it is." + +"What! Is one ruble fifteen kopecks all you mean to give me now?" + +"That is all that is due to you." + +The young man took the money without further discussion. He looked at +the old woman and was in no haste to depart. He seemed anxious to say +or do something more, but without knowing exactly what. "Perhaps I may +be bringing you some other article soon, Alena Ivanovna, a very pretty +cigar case--a silver one--when I get it back from the friend to whom I +have lent it." These words were uttered with much embarrassment. + +"Well, we can talk about it then, _batuchka_." + +"Good-by. You are always alone--is your sister never with you?" asked +he with as indifferent an air as he could assume, as he entered the +anteroom. + +"What have you to do with my sister, _batuchka_?" + +"Nothing. I had no reason for asking. You will--well, good-by, Alena +Ivanovna." + +Raskolnikoff made his exit in a perturbed state of mind. As he went +downstairs, he stopped from time to time, as if overcome by violent +emotion. When he had at length emerged upon the street, he exclaimed +to himself: "How loathsome it all is! Can I, can I ever?--no, it is +absurd, preposterous!" added he mentally. "How could such a horrible +idea ever enter my head? Could I ever be capable of such infamy? It is +odious, ignoble, repulsive! And yet for a whole month----" + +Words and exclamations, however, could not give full vent to his +agitation. The loathing sense of disgust which had begun to oppress +him on his way to the old woman's house had now become so intense that +he longed to find some way of escape from the torture. He reeled along +the pavement like a tipsy man, taking no notice of those who passed, +but bumping against them. On looking round he saw a dram shop near at +hand; steps led down from the footpath to the basement, and +Raskolnikoff saw two drunkards coming out at that moment, leaning +heavily on each other and exchanging abusive language. The young man +barely paused before he descended the steps. He had never before +entered such a place, but he felt dizzy and was also suffering from +intense thirst. He had a craving for some beer, partly because he +attributed his weakness to an empty stomach. Seating himself in a dark +and dirty corner, in front of a filthy little table, he called for +some beer, and eagerly drank off a glass. + +He felt instantly relieved, and his brain began to clear: "How absurd +I have been!" said he to himself, "there was really nothing to make me +uneasy! It was simply physical! A glass of beer and a mouthful of +biscuit were all that was necessary to restore my strength of mind and +make my thoughts clear and resolution fixed. How paltry all this is!" + +The next morning Raskolnikoff awoke late, after disturbed and +unrefreshing slumbers. He felt very cross and glanced angrily round +his room. It was a tiny place, not more than six feet in length, and +its dirty buff paper hung in shreds, giving it a most miserable +aspect; besides which, the ceiling was so low that a tall man would +have felt in danger of bumping his head. The furniture was quite in +harmony with the room, consisting of three old rickety chairs, a +painted table in one corner, on which lay books and papers thick with +dust (showing how long it was since they had been touched), and, +finally, a large and very ugly sofa with ragged covers. This sofa, +which filled nearly half the room, served Raskolnikoff as a bed. He +often lay down on it in his clothes, without any sheets, covering +himself with his old student's coat, and using instead of a pillow a +little cushion, which he raised by keeping under it all his clean or +dirty linen. Before the sofa stood a small table. + +Raskolnikoff's misanthropy did not take offense at the dirty state of +his den. Human faces had grown so distasteful to him, that the very +sight of the servant whose business it was to clean the rooms produced +a feeling of exasperation. + +To such a condition may monomaniacs come by continually brooding over +one idea. For the last fortnight, the landlady had ceased to supply +her lodger with provisions, and he had not yet thought of demanding an +explanation. Nastasia, who had to cook and clean for the whole house, +was not sorry to see the lodger in this state of mind, as it +diminished her labors: she had quite given up tidying and dusting his +room; the utmost she did was to come and sweep it once a week. She it +was who was arousing him at this moment. + +"Come, get up, why are you sleeping so late?" she exclaimed. "It is +nine o'clock. I have brought up some tea, will you take a cup? How +pale you look!" + +Raskolnikoff opened his eyes, shook himself, and recognized Nastasia. +"Has the landlady sent me this tea?" asked he, making a painful effort +to sit up. + +"Not much chance of that!" And the servant placed before him her own +teapot, in which there was still some tea left, and laid two small +lumps of brownish sugar on the table. + +"Here, Nastasia, take this, please," said Raskolnikoff, fumbling in +his pocket and drawing out a handful of small change (for he had again +lain down in his clothes), "and fetch me a white roll. Go to the pork +shop as well, and buy me a bit of cheap sausage." + +"I will bring you the roll in a minute, but had you not better take +some _shtchi_[5] instead of the sausage? We make it here, and it is +capital. I kept some for you last night, but it was so late before you +came in! You will find it very good." She went to fetch the _shtchi_, +and, when Raskolnikoff had begun to eat, she seated herself on the +sofa beside him and commenced to chatter, like a true country girl as +she was. "Prascovia Paulovna means to report you to the police," said +she. + +The young man's brow clouded. "To the police? Why?" + +"Because you don't pay and won't go. That's why." + +"The deuce!" growled he between his teeth, "that is the finishing +stroke; it comes at a most unfortunate juncture. She is a fool," added +he aloud. "I shall go and talk to her to-morrow." + +"She is, of course, just as much of a fool as I am; but why do you, +who are so intelligent, lie here doing nothing? How is it you never +seem to have money for anything now? You used to give lessons, I hear; +how is it you do nothing now?" + +"I am engaged on something," returned Raskolnikoff dryly and half +reluctantly. + +"On what?" + +"Some work--" + +"What sort of work?" + +"Thinking," replied he gravely, after a short silence. + +Nastasia was convulsed. She was of a merry disposition, but her +laughter was always noiseless, an internal convulsion which made her +actually writhe with pain. "And does your thinking bring you any +money?" asked she, as soon as she could manage to speak. + +"Well! I can't give lessons when I have no boots to go out in? +Besides, I despise them." + +"Take care lest you suffer for it." + +"There is so little to be made by giving lessons! What can one do with +a few kopecks?" said he in an irritable tone, rather to himself than +the servant. + +"So you wish to make your fortune at one stroke?" + +He looked at her rather strangely, and was silent for a moment. "Yes, +my fortune," rejoined he impressively. + +"Hush! you frighten me, you look terrible. Shall I go and fetch you a +roll?" + +"Just as you like." + +Later in the day, Raskolnikoff went out and wandered about the +streets. At last he sat down under a tree to rest, and fell into a +reverie. His limbs felt disjointed, and his mind was in darkness and +confusion. He placed his elbows on his knees and held his head with +his hands. + +"God! Am I to stand beating in her skull with a hatchet or something, +wade in warm blood, break open the lock and rob and tremble, blood +flowing all around, and hide myself, with the hatchet? O God! is this +indeed possible, and must it be?" He trembled like a leaf as he said +this. + +"What am I thinking of?" he cried in some astonishment. "I know well I +could not endure that with which I have been torturing myself. I saw +that clearly yesterday when I tried to rehearse it. Perfectly plain. +Then what am I questioning? Did I not say yesterday as I went up the +stairs how disgusting and mean and low it all was, and did not I run +away in terror?" + +He stood up and looked all round, wondering how he got there, and +moved off toward the T---- bridge. He was pale and his eyes were hot, +and feebleness was in all his members, but he seemed to breathe +easier. He felt that he had thrown off the old time which had been so +oppressive; and in its place had come peace and light. "Lord!" he +prayed, "show me my way, that I may renounce these horrid thoughts of +mine!" + +Going across the bridge, he quietly gazed on the Neva, and the clear +red sunset. He did not feel himself tired now, notwithstanding his +weakness, and the load which had lain upon his heart seemed to be +gone. Liberty! Liberty! he was free from those enchantments and all +their vile instigations. In later times when he recalled this period +of his existence, and all that happened to him in those days, minute +by minute and point by point, he recollected how each circumstance, +although in the main not very unusual, constantly appeared to his mind +as an evidence of the predetermination of his fate, so superstitious +was he. Especially he could never understand why he, weary and +harassed as he was, could not have returned home by the shortest +route, instead of across the Haymarket, which was quite out of the +way. Certainly, a dozen times before, he had reached his lodgings by +most circuitous routes, and never known through which streets he had +come. But why (he always asked) should such a really fateful meeting +have taken place in the market (through which there was no need to +go), and happen, too, at exactly such a time and at a moment of his +life when his mind was in the state it was, and the event, in these +circumstances, could only produce the most definite and decided effect +upon his fate? Surely he was the instrument of some purpose! + +It was about nine o'clock as he stood in the Haymarket. All the +dealers had closed their establishments or cleared away their goods +and gone home. About this place, with its tattered population, its +dirty and nauseous courtyards and numerous alleys, Raskolnikoff dearly +loved to roam in his aimless wanderings. He attracted no notice there. +At the corner of K---- Lane were a dealer and his wife, who were +engaged in packing up their wares, consisting of tapes, handkerchiefs, +cotton, &c., preparatory to going home. They were lingering over their +work, and conversing with an acquaintance. This was Elizabeth +Ivanovna, or simple Elizabeth, as all called her, the younger sister +of the old woman, Alena Ivanovna, to whose rooms Raskolnikoff went the +day before for the purpose of pawning his watch to make his +_rehearsal_. He knew all about this Elizabeth, as she knew also a +little about him. She was a tall, awkward woman, about thirty-five +years of age, timid and quiet, indeed almost an idiot, and was a +regular slave to her sister, working for her day and night, trembling +before her and enduring even blows. She was evidently hesitating about +something, as she stood there with a bundle under her arm, and her +friends were pressing some subject rather warmly. When Raskolnikoff +recognized her he seemed struck with the greatest astonishment, +although there was nothing strange about such a meeting. + +"You ought to decide yourself, Elizabeth Ivanovna," said the man. +"Come to-morrow at seven o'clock." + +"To-morrow?" said Elizabeth slowly, as if undecided. + +"She is frightened of Alena Ivanovna," cried the wife, a brisk little +woman. "You are like a little child, Elizabeth Ivanovna, and she's not +your own sister, but a stepsister. She has too much her own way." + +"You say nothing to Alena Ivanovna," interrupted the man, "and come +without asking, that's the way to do it, and your sister can manage +herself." + +"When shall I come?" + +"At seven o'clock, to-morrow." + +"Very well, I will come," said Elizabeth, slowly and reluctantly. She +then quitted them. + +Raskolnikoff also went away, and stayed to hear no more. His original +amazement had changed gradually into a feeling of actual terror; a +chill ran down his back. He had learned unexpectedly and positively, +that, at seven o'clock the next evening, Elizabeth, the old woman's +sister, the only person living with her, would not be at home, and +that, therefore, the old woman, at seven o'clock to-morrow, _would be +there alone_. It needed but a few steps to reach his room. He went +along like one sentenced to death, with his reason clogged and numbed. +He felt that now all liberty of action and free will were gone, and +everything was irrevocably decided. A more convenient occasion than +was thus unexpectedly offered to him now would never arise, and he +might never learn again, beforehand, that, at a certain time on a +certain day, she, on whom he was to make the attempt, would be +entirely alone. + +Raskolnikoff learned subsequently what induced the man and his wife to +invite Elizabeth to call on them. It was a very simple matter. A +foreign family, finding themselves in straitened circumstances, were +desirous of parting with various things, consisting for the most part +in articles of female attire. They were anxious, therefore, to meet +with a dealer in cast-off clothes, and this was one of Elizabeth's +callings. She had a large connection, because she was very honest and +always stuck to her price: there was no higgling to be done with her. +She was a woman of few words and very shy and reserved. But +Raskolnikoff was very superstitious, and traces of this remained in +him long after. In all the events of this period of his life he was +ever ready to detect something mysterious, and attribute every +circumstance to the presence of some particular influence upon his +destiny. + +The previous winter, a fellow student, Pokoreff by name, on leaving +for Charkoff, had happened to communicate to him in conversation the +address of Alena Ivanovna, in case he should ever require to pawn +anything. For a long time he did not use it, as he was giving lessons, +and managed somehow to get along, but six weeks before this time he +had recollected the address. He had two things fit to pawn--an old +silver watch, formerly his father's; and a small gold ring with three +red stones, a souvenir from his sister on leaving home. He decided on +getting rid of the latter, and went to the old woman's. At the first +glance, and knowing nothing whatever of her personally, she inspired +him with an unaccountable loathing. He took her two notes, and on +leaving went into a poor _traktir_, or restaurant, and ordered some +tea. He sat down musing, and strange thoughts flitted across his mind +and became hatched in his brain. Close by, at another table, were +seated a student, whom he did not knew, and a young officer. They had +been playing billiards, and were now drinking tea. Suddenly +Raskolnikoff heard the student give the officer the address of Alena +Ivanovna, the widow of a professor, as one who lent money on pledges. +This alone struck Raskolnikoff as very peculiar. They were talking of +the same person he had just been to see. No doubt it was pure chance, +but, at the moment he was struggling against an impression he could +not overcome, this stranger's words came and gave extra force to it. +The student went on talking, and began to give his companion some +account of Alena Ivanovna. + +"She is well known," he said, "and always good for money. She is as +rich as a Jew, and can advance five thousand rubles at a moment's +notice; yet she will take in pledge objects worth as little as a +ruble. She is quite a providence to many of our fellows--but such an +old hag! I tell you what I would do. I would kill that damnable old +hag, and take all she is possessed of, without any qualm of +conscience," exclaimed the student excitedly. The officer laughed, but +Raskolnikoff shuddered. The words just uttered so strongly echoed his +own thoughts. "Let me put a serious question to you," resumed the +student, more and more excited. "I have hitherto been joking, but now +listen to this. On the one side here is a silly, flint-hearted, +evil-minded, sulky old woman, necessary to no one--on the contrary, +pernicious to all--and who does not know herself why she lives." + +"Well?" said the officer. + +"Hear me further. On the other hand, young fresh strength droops and +is lost for want of sustenance; this is the case with thousands +everywhere! A hundred, a thousand good deeds and enterprises could be +carried out and upheld with the money this old woman has bequeathed to +a monastery. A dozen families might be saved from hunger, want, ruin, +crime, and misery, and all with her money! Kill her, I say, take it +from her, and dedicate it to the service of humanity and the general +good! What is your opinion? Shall not one little crime be effaced and +atoned for by a thousand good deeds? For one useless life a thousand +lives saved from decay and death. One death, and a hundred beings +restored to existence! There's a calculation for you. What in +proportion is the life of this miserable old woman? No more than the +life of a flea, a beetle, nay, not even that, for she is pernicious. +She preys on other lives. She lately bit Elizabeth's finger, in a fit +of passion, and nearly bit it off!" + +"Certainly she does not deserve to live," observed the officer, "but +nature----" + +"Ah, my friend, nature has to be governed and guided, or we should be +drowned in prejudices. Without it there would never be one great man. +They say 'duty is conscience.' Now I have nothing to say against duty +and conscience, but let us see, how do we understand them? Let me put +another question to you. Listen." + +"Stop a minute, I will give you one." + +"Well?" + +"After all you have said and declaimed, tell me--are you going to kill +the old woman _yourself_, or not?" + +"Of course not. I only pointed out the inequality of things. As for +the deed----" + +"Well, if you won't, it's my opinion that it would not be just to do +so! Come, let's have another game!" + +Raskolnikoff was in the greatest agitation. Still, there was nothing +extraordinary in this conversation; it was not the first time he had +heard, only in other forms and on other topics, such ideas from the +lips of the young and hot-headed. But why should he, of all men, +happen to overhear such a conversation and such ideas, when the very +same thoughts were being engendered in himself?--and why precisely +_then_, immediately on his becoming possessed of them and on leaving +the old woman? Strange, indeed, did this coincidence appear to him. +This idle conversation was destined to have a fearful influence on his +destiny, extending to the most trifling incident and causing him to +feel sure he was the instrument of a fixed purpose. + + * * * * * + +On his return from the market, he flung himself upon his couch and sat +motionless for a whole hour. It became dark, he had no light, but sat +on. He could never afterwards recollect his thoughts at the time. At +last he felt cold, and a shiver ran through him. He recognized with +delight that he was sitting on his couch and could lie down, and soon +he fell into a deep, heavy sleep. He slept much longer than usual, and +his slumbers were undisturbed by dreams. Nastasia, who came to his +room the next morning at ten o'clock, had great difficulty in +awakening him. The servant brought him some bread and, the same as the +day before, what was left of her tea. + +"Not up yet!" exclaimed she indignantly. "How can you sleep so long?" + +Raskolnikoff raised himself with an effort; his head ached; he got +upon his feet, took a few steps, and then dropped down again upon the +couch. + +"What, again!" cried Nastasia, "but you must be ill then?" He did not +answer. "Would you like some tea?" + +"By and by," he muttered painfully, after which he closed his eyes and +turned his face to the wall. Nastasia, standing over him, remained +watching him for a while. + +"After all, he's perhaps ill," said she, before withdrawing. + +At two o'clock she returned with some soup. Raskolnikoff was still +lying on the couch. He had not touched the tea. The servant became +angry and shook the lodger violently. "Whatever makes you sleep thus?" +scolded she, eying him contemptuously. + +He sat up, but answered not a word, and remained with his eyes fixed +on the floor. + +"Are you ill, or are you not?" asked Nastasia. This second question +met with no more answer than the first. "You should go out," continued +she, after a pause, "the fresh air would do you good. You'll eat +something, will you not?" + +"By and by," answered he feebly. "Go away!" and he motioned her off. +She remained a moment longer, watching him with an air of pity, and +then left the room. + +After a few minutes he raised his eyes, gave a long look at the tea +and soup, and then began to eat. He swallowed three or four spoonfuls +without the least appetite--almost mechanically. His head felt better. +When he had finished his light repast, he again lay down on the couch, +but he could not sleep and remained motionless, flat on his stomach, +his face buried in the pillow. His reverie kept conjuring up strange +scenes. At one time he was in Africa, in Egypt, on some oasis, where +palms were dotted about. The caravans were at rest, the camels lay +quietly, and the travelers were eating their evening meal. They drank +water direct from the stream which ran murmuring close by. How +refreshing was the marvelously blue water, and how beautifully clear +it looked as it ran over many-colored stones and mingled with the +golden spangles of the sandy bottom! All at once he clearly heard the +hour chiming. He shuddered, raised his head, looked at the window to +calculate the time. He came to himself immediately and jumped up, and, +going on tiptoe, silently opened the door and stood listening on the +landing. His heart beat violently. But not a sound came from the +staircase. It seemed as though the house was wrapped in sleep. He +could not understand how he had been able to sleep away the time as he +had done, while nothing was prepared for the enterprise. And yet it +was, perhaps, six o'clock that had just struck. + +Then, he became excited as he felt what there was to be done, and he +endeavored with all his might to keep his thoughts from wandering and +concentrate his mind on his task. All the time his heart thumped and +beat until he could hardly draw breath. In the first place it was +necessary to make a loop and fasten to his coat. He went to his pillow +and took from among the linen he kept there an old and dirty shirt and +tore part of it into strips. He then fastened a couple of these +together, and, taking off his coat--a stout cotton summer one--began +to sew the loop inside, under the left arm. His hands shook violently, +but he accomplished his task satisfactorily, and when he again put on +his coat nothing was visible. Needle and thread had been procured long +ago, and lay on the table in a piece of paper. The loop was provided +for a hatchet. It would never have done to have appeared in the +streets carrying a hatchet, and if he placed it under the coat, it +would have been necessary to hold it with his hands; but with the loop +all he had to do was to put the iron in it and it would hang of itself +under the coat, and with his hands in his pockets he could keep it +from shaking, and no one could suspect that he was carrying anything. +He had thought over all this about a fortnight before. + +Having finished his task, Raskolnikoff inserted his finger in a small +crevice in the floor under his couch, and brought out the _pledge_ +with which he had been careful to provide himself. This pledge was, +however, only a sham--a thin smooth piece of wood about the size and +thickness of a silver cigarette case, which he had found in a yard +adjoining a carpenter's shop, and a thin piece of iron of about the +same size, which he had picked up in the street. He fastened the two +together firmly with thread, then proceeded to wrap them up neatly in +a piece of clean white paper, and tie the parcel in such a manner that +it would be difficult to undo it again. This was all done in order to +occupy the attention of the old woman and to seize a favorable +opportunity when she would be busy with the knot. The piece of iron +was simply added for weight, in order that she might not immediately +detect the fraud. He had just finished, and had put the packet in his +pocket, when in the court below resounded the cry: + +"Six o'clock struck long ago!" + +"Long ago! Good heavens!" + +He ran to the door, listened, seized his hat, and went down the stairs +cautiously and stealthily as a cat. He still had the most important +thing to do--to steal the hatchet out of the kitchen. That a hatchet +was the best instrument, he had long since decided. He had an old +garden knife, but on a knife--especially on his own strength--he could +not rely; he finally fixed on the hatchet. A peculiarity was to be +noticed in all these resolutions of his; the more definitely they were +settled, the more absurd and horrible they immediately appeared to his +eyes, and never, for a moment, did he feel sure of the execution of +his project. But even if every question had been settled, every doubt +cleared away, every difficulty overcome, he would probably have +renounced his design on the instant, as something absurd, monstrous, +and impossible. But there were still a host of matters to arrange, of +problems to solve. As to procuring the hatchet, this trifle did not +trouble Raskolnikoff in the least, for nothing was easier. As a matter +of fact Nastasia was scarcely ever at home, especially of an evening. +She was constantly out gossiping with friends or tradespeople, and +that was the reason of her mistress's constant complaints. When the +time came, all he would have to do would be to quietly enter the +kitchen and take the hatchet, and then to replace it an hour +afterwards when all was over. But perhaps this would not be as easy as +he fancied. "Suppose," said the young man to himself, "that when, in +an hour's time, I come to replace the hatchet, Nastasia should have +come in. Now, in that case, I could naturally not enter the kitchen +until she had gone out again. But supposing during this time she +notices the absence of the hatchet, she will grumble, perhaps kick up +a shindy, and that will serve to denounce me, or at least might do +so!" + +Before he had got to the bottom of the staircase, a trifling +circumstance came and upset all his plans. On reaching his landlady's +landing, he found the kitchen door wide open, as usual, and he peeped +in, in order to make sure that, in the absence of Nastasia, her +mistress was not there, and that the doors of the other rooms were +closed. But great was his annoyance to find Nastasia there herself, +engaged in hanging clothes on a line. Perceiving the young man, she +stopped and turned to him inquiringly. He averted his eyes and went +away without remark. But the affair was done for. There was no +hatchet, he was frustrated entirely. He felt crushed, nay, humiliated, +but a feeling of brutal vindictiveness at his disappointment soon +ensued, and he continued down the stairs, smiling maliciously to +himself. He stood hesitating at the gate. To walk about the streets or +to go back were equally repugnant. "To think that I have missed such a +splendid opportunity!" he murmured as he stood aimlessly at the +entrance, leaning near the open door of the porter's lodge. Suddenly +he started--something in the dark room attracted his eye. He looked +quietly around. No one was near. He descended the two steps on tiptoe, +and called for the porter. There was no reply, and he rushed headlong +to the hatchet (it was a hatchet), secured it where it lay among some +wood, and hurriedly fastened it to the loop as he made his way out +into the street. No one saw him! "There's more of the devil in this +than my design," he said smiling to himself. The occurrence gave him +fresh courage. + +He went away quietly in order not to excite any suspicion, and walked +along the street with his eyes studiously fixed on the ground, +avoiding the faces of the passers-by. Suddenly he recollected his hat. +"Good heavens! the day before yesterday I had money, and not to have +thought of that! I could so easily have bought a cap!" and he began +cursing himself. Glancing casually in a shop, he saw it was ten +minutes past seven. He had yet a long way to go, as he was making a +circuit, not wishing to walk direct to the house. He kept off, as much +as he was able, all thought of his mission, and on the way reflected +upon possible improvements of the public grounds, upon the +desirability of fountains, and why people lived where there were +neither parks nor fountains, but only mud, lime, and bricks, emitting +horrid exhalations and every conceivable foulness. This reminded him +of his own walks about the Cyennaza, and he came to himself. + +"How true it is that persons being led to execution interest +themselves in anything that strikes them on the way!" was the thought +that came into his head, but it passed away like lightning to be +succeeded by some other. "Here we are--there is the gate." It struck +half-past seven as he stood near the house. + +To his delight, he passed in without observation. As if on purpose, at +the very same moment a load of hay was going in, and it completely +screened him. On the other side of the load, a dispute or brawl was +evidently taking place, and he gained the old woman's staircase in a +second. Recovering his breath and pressing his hand to his beating +heart, he commenced the ascent, though first feeling for the hatchet +and arranging it. Every minute he stopped to listen. The stairs were +quite deserted, and every door was closed. No one met him. On the +second floor, indeed, the door of an empty lodging was wide open; some +painters were working there, but they did not look up. He stopped a +moment to think, and then continued the ascent: "No doubt it would be +better if they were not there, but fortunately there are two more +floors above them." At last he reached the fourth floor, and Alena +Ivanovna's door; the lodging facing it was unoccupied. The lodging on +the third floor, just beneath the old woman's, was also apparently +empty. The card that used to be on the door had gone; the lodgers had, +no doubt, moved. Raskolnikoff was stifling. He stood hesitating a +moment: "Had I not better go away?" But without answering the +question, he waited and listened. Not a sound issued from the old +woman's apartments. The staircase was filled with the same silence. +After listening for a long time, the young man cast a last glance +around, and again felt his hatchet. "Do I not look too pale?" thought +he. "Do I not appear too agitated? She is mistrustful. I should do +well to wait a little, to give my emotion time to calm down." + +But instead of becoming quieter, his heart throbbed more violently. He +could stand it no longer, and, raising his hand toward the bell rope, +he pulled it toward him. After waiting half a minute, he rang +again--this time a little louder. No answer. To ring like a deaf man +would have been useless, stupid even. The old woman was certainly at +home; but, suspicious by nature, she was likely to be so all the more +then, as she happened to be alone. Raskolnikoff knew something of +Alena Ivanovna's habits. He therefore placed his ear to the door. Had +the circumstances amid which he was placed strangely developed his +power of hearing, which, in general, is difficult to admit, or was the +sound really easily perceptible? Anyhow, he suddenly became aware that +a hand was being cautiously placed on the lock, and that a dress +rustled against the door. Some one inside was going through exactly +the same movements as he on the landing. Some one, standing up against +the lock, was listening while trying to hide her presence, and had +probably her ear also against the door. + +In order to avoid all idea of mystery, the young man purposely moved +about rather noisily, and muttered something half aloud; then he rang +a third time, but gently and coolly, without allowing the bell to +betray the least sign of impatience. Raskolnikoff never forgot this +moment of his life. When, in after days, he thought over it, he could +never understand how he had been able to display such cunning, +especially at a time when emotion was now and again depriving him of +the free use of his intellectual and physical faculties. After a short +while he heard the bolt withdrawn. + +The door, as before, was opened a little, and again the two eyes, with +mistrustful glance, peeped out of the dark. Then Raskolnikoff lost his +presence of mind and made a serious mistake. Fearing that the old +woman would take alarm at finding they were alone, and knowing that +his appearance would not reassure her, he took hold of the door and +pulled it toward him in order to prevent her shutting it again if she +should be thus minded. Seeing this, she held on to the lock, so that +he almost drew her together with the door on to the staircase. She +recovered herself, and stood to prevent his entrance, speechless with +fright. + +"Good evening, Alena Ivanovna," he commenced, trying to speak with +unconcern, but his voice did not obey him, and he faltered and +trembled, "Good evening, I have brought you something, but we had +better go into the light." He pushed past her and entered the room +uninvited. The old woman followed and found her tongue. + +"What is it you want? Who are you?" she commenced. + +"Pardon me, Alena Ivanovna, your old acquaintance Raskolnikoff. I have +brought a pledge, as I promised the other day," and he held out the +packet to her. + +The old woman was about to examine it, when she raised her eyes and +looked straight into those of the visitor who had entered so +unceremoniously. She examined him attentively, distrustfully, for a +minute. Raskolnikoff fancied there was a gleam of mockery in her look +as if she guessed all. He felt he was changing color, and that if she +kept her glance upon him much longer without saying a word he would be +obliged to run away. + +"Why are you looking at me thus?" he said at last in anger. "Will you +take it or not? or shall I take it elsewhere? I have no time to +waste." He did not intend to say this, but the words came out. The +tone seemed to quiet her suspicions. + +"Why were you so impatient, _batuchka_? What is it?" she asked, +glancing at the pledge. + +"The silver cigarette case of which I spoke the other day." + +She held out her hand. "But why are you so pale, why do your hands +shake? What is the matter with you, _batuchka_?" + +"Fever," replied he abruptly. "You would be pale too if you had +nothing to eat." He could hardly speak the words and felt his strength +falling. But there was some plausibility in his reply; and the old +woman took the pledge. + +"What is it?" she asked once more, weighing it in her hand and looking +straight at her visitor. + +"Cigarette case, silver, look at it." + +"It doesn't feel as though it were silver. Oh! what a dreadful knot!" + +She began to untie the packet and turned to the light (all the windows +were closed in spite of the heat). Her back was turned toward +Raskolnikoff, and for a few seconds she paid no further attention to +him. He opened his coat, freed the hatchet from the loop, but did not +yet take it from its hiding place; he held it with his right hand +beneath the garment. His limbs were weak, each moment they grew more +numbed and stiff. He feared his fingers would relax their hold of the +hatchet. Then his head turned giddy. + +"What is this you bring me?" cried Alena Ivanovna, turning to him in a +rage. + +There was not a moment to lose now. He pulled out the hatchet, raised +it with both hands, and let it descend without force, almost +mechanically, on the old woman's head. But directly he had struck the +blow his strength returned. According to her usual habit, Alena +Ivanovna was bareheaded. Her scanty gray locks, greasy with oil, were +gathered in one thin plait, which was fixed to the back of her neck by +means of a piece of horn comb. The hatchet struck her just on the +sinciput, and this was partly owing to her small stature. She scarcely +uttered a faint cry and collapsed at once all in a heap on the floor; +she was dead. + +The murderer laid his hatchet down and at once began to search the +corpse, taking the greatest precaution not to get stained with the +blood; he remembered seeing Alena Ivanovna, on the occasion of his +last visit, take her keys from the right-hand pocket of her dress. He +was in full possession of his intellect; he felt neither giddy nor +dazed, but his hands continued to shake. Later on, he recollected that +he had been very prudent, very attentive, that he had taken every care +not to soil himself. It did not take him long to find the keys; the +same as the other day, they were all together on a steel ring. Having +secured them, Raskolnikoff at once passed into the bedroom. It was a +very small apartment; on one side was a large glass case full of holy +images, on the other a great bed looking very clean with its +quilted-silk patchwork coverlet. The third wall was occupied by a +chest of drawers. Strange to say, the young man had no sooner +attempted to open them, he had no sooner commenced to try the keys, +than a kind of shudder ran through his frame. Again the idea came to +him to give up his task and go away, but this weakness only lasted a +second: it was now too late to draw back. + +He was even smiling at having for a moment entertained such a thought, +when he was suddenly seized with a terrible anxiety: suppose the old +woman were still alive, suppose she recovered consciousness. Leaving +at once the keys and the drawers, he hastened to the corpse, seized +the hatchet, and prepared to strike another blow at his victim, but he +found there was no necessity to do so. Alena Ivanovna was dead beyond +all doubt. Leaning over her again to examine her closer, Raskolnikoff +saw that the skull was shattered. He was about to touch her with his +fingers, but drew back, as it was quite unnecessary. There was a pool +of blood upon the floor. Suddenly noticing a bit of cord round the old +woman's neck, the young man gave it a tug, but the gory stuff was +strong, and did not break. The murderer then tried to remove it by +drawing it down the body. But this second attempt was no more +successful than the first, the cord encountered some obstacle and +became fixed. Burning with impatience, Raskolnikoff brandished the +hatchet, ready to strike the corpse and sever the confounded string at +the same blow. However, he could not make up his mind to proceed with +such brutality. At last, after trying for two minutes, and staining +his hands with blood, he succeeded in severing the cord with the blade +of the hatchet without further disfiguring the dead body. As he had +imagined, there was a purse suspended to the old woman's neck. Besides +this there was also a small enameled medal and two crosses, one of +cypress wood, the other of brass. The greasy purse, a little +chamois-leather bag, was as full as it could hold. Raskolnikoff thrust +it in his pocket without examining the contents. He then threw the +crosses on his victim's breast, and hastily returned to the bedroom, +taking the hatchet with him. + +His impatience was now intense, he seized the keys, and again set to +work. But all his attempts to open the drawers were unavailing, and +this was not so much owing to the shaking of his hands as to his +continual misconceptions. He could see, for instance, that a certain +key would not fit the lock, and yet he continued to try and insert it. +All on a sudden he recalled a conjecture he had formed on the occasion +of his preceding visit: the big key with the toothed wards, which was +attached to the ring with the smaller ones, probably belonged, not to +the drawers, but to some box in which the old woman, no doubt, hoarded +up her valuables. Without further troubling about the drawers, he at +once looked under the bed, aware that old women are in the habit of +hiding their treasures in such places. And there indeed was a trunk +with rounded lid, covered with red morocco and studded with steel +nails. Raskolnikoff was able to insert the key in the lock without the +least difficulty. When he opened the box he perceived a hareskin cloak +trimmed with red lying on a white sheet; beneath the fur was a silk +dress, and then a shawl, the rest of the contents appeared to be +nothing but rags. The young man commenced by wiping his bloodstained +hands on the red trimming. "It will not show so much on red." Then he +suddenly seemed to change his mind: "Heavens! am I going mad?" thought +he with fright. + +But scarcely had he touched these clothes than a gold watch rolled +from under the fur. He then overhauled everything in the box. Among +the rags were various gold trinkets, which had all probably been +pledged with the old woman: bracelets, chains, earrings, scarf pins, +&c. Some were in their cases, while the others were tied up with tape +in pieces of newspaper folded in two. Raskolnikoff did not hesitate, +he laid hands on these jewels, and stowed them away in the pockets of +his coat and trousers, without opening the cases or untying the +packets; but he was soon interrupted in his work------ + +Footsteps resounded in the other room. He stopped short, frozen with +terror. But the noise having ceased, he was already imagining he had +been mistaken, when suddenly he distinctly heard a faint cry, or +rather a kind of feeble interrupted moan. At the end of a minute or +two, everything was again as silent as death. Raskolnikoff had seated +himself on the floor beside the trunk and was waiting, scarcely daring +to breathe; suddenly he bounded up, caught up the hatchet, and rushed +from the bedroom. In the center of the apartment, Elizabeth, a huge +bundle in her hands, stood gazing in a terror-stricken way at her dead +sister; white as a sheet, she did not seem to have the strength to +call out. On the sudden appearance of the murderer, she began to quake +in every limb, and nervous twitches passed over her face; she tried to +raise her arm, to open her mouth, but she was unable to utter the +least cry, and, slowly retreating, her gaze still riveted on +Raskolnikoff, she sought refuge in a corner. The poor woman drew back +in perfect silence, as though she had no breath left in her body. The +young man rushed upon her, brandishing the hatchet; the wretched +creature's lips assumed the doleful expression peculiar to quite young +children when, beginning to feel frightened of something, they gaze +fixedly at the object which has raised their alarm, and are on the +point of crying out. Terror had so completely stupefied this +unfortunate Elizabeth, that, though threatened by the hatchet, she did +not even think of protecting her face by holding her hands before her +head, with that mechanical gesture which the instinct of +self-preservation prompts on such occasions. She scarcely raised her +left arm, and extended it slowly in the direction of the murderer, as +thought to keep him off. The hatchet penetrated her skull, laying it +open from the upper part of the forehead to the crown. Elizabeth fell +down dead. No longer aware of what he did, Raskolnikoff took the +bundle from his victim's hand, then dropped it and ran to the +anteroom. + +He was more and more terrified, especially after this second murder, +entirely unpremeditated by him. He was in a hurry to be gone; had he +then been in a state to see things more clearly, had he only been able +to form an idea of the difficulties besetting his position, to see how +desperate, how hideous, how absurd it was, to understand how many +obstacles there still remained for him to surmount, perhaps even +crimes to commit, to escape from this house and return home, he would +most likely have withdrawn from the struggle, and have gone at once +and given himself up to justice; it was not cowardice which would have +prompted him to do so, but the horror of what he had done. This last +impression became more and more powerful every minute. Nothing in the +world could now have made him return to the trunk, nor even renter +the room in which it lay. Little by little his mind became diverted by +other thoughts, and he lapsed into a kind of reverie; at times the +murderer seemed to forget his position, or rather the most important +part of it, and to concentrate his attention on trifles. After a +while, happening to glance in the kitchen, he observed a pail half +full of water, standing on a bench, and that gave him the idea of +washing his hands and the hatchet. The blood had made his hands +sticky. After plunging the blade of the hatchet in the water, he took +a small piece of soap which lay on the window sill, and commenced his +ablutions. When he had washed his hands, he set to cleaning the iron +part of his weapon; then he devoted three minutes to soaping the +wooden handle, which was also stained with blood. + +After this he wiped it with a cloth which had been hung up to dry on a +line stretched across the kitchen. This done, he drew near the window +and carefully examined the hatchet for some minutes. The accusing +stains had disappeared, but the handle was still damp. Raskolnikoff +carefully hid the weapon under his coat by replacing it in the loop; +after which, he minutely inspected his clothes, that is to say so far +as the dim light of the kitchen allowed him to do so. He saw nothing +suspicious about the coat and trousers, but there were bloodstains on +the boots. He removed them with the aid of a damp rag. But these +precautions only half reassured him, for he knew that he could not see +properly and that certain stains had very likely escaped him. He stood +irresolute in the middle of the room, a prey to a somber, agonizing +thought, the thought that he was going mad, that at that moment he was +not in a fit state to come to a determination and to watch over his +security, that his way of going to work was probably not the one the +circumstances demanded. "Good heavens! I ought to go, to go away at +once!" murmured he, and he rushed to the anteroom where the greatest +terror he had yet experienced awaited him. + +He stood stock-still, not daring to believe his eyes: the door of the +lodging, the outer door which opened on to the landing, the same one +at which he had rung a little while before and by which he had +entered, was open; up till then it had remained ajar, the old woman +had no doubt omitted to close it by way of precaution; it had been +neither locked nor bolted! But he had seen Elizabeth after that. How +was it that it had not occurred to him that she had come in by way of +the door? She could not have entered the lodging through the wall. He +shut the door and bolted it. "But no, that is not what I should do? I +must go away, go away." He drew back the bolt and, after opening the +door again, stood listening on the landing. + +He stood thus a long while. Down below, probably at the street door, +two noisy voices were vociferating insults. "Who can those people be?" +He waited patiently. At last the noise ceased, the brawlers had taken +their departure. The young man was about to do the same, when a door +on the floor immediately below was noisily opened and some one went +downstairs, humming a tune. "Whatever are they all up to?" wondered +Raskolnikoff, and closing the door again he waited a while. At length +all became silent as before; but just as he was preparing to go down, +he suddenly became aware of a fresh sound, footsteps as yet far off, +at the bottom of the staircase; and he no sooner heard them than he +guessed the truth:--some one was coming _there_, to the old woman's on +the fourth floor. Whence came this presentiment? What was there so +particularly significant in the sound of these footsteps? They were +heavy, regular, and rather slow than hurried. _He_ has now reached the +first floor, he still continues to ascend. The sound is becoming +plainer and plainer. He pants as though with asthma at each step he +takes. He has commenced the third flight. He will soon be on the +fourth! And Raskolnikoff felt suddenly seized as with a general +paralysis, the same as happens when a person has the nightmare and +fancies himself pursued by enemies; they are on the point of catching +him, they will kill him, and yet he remains spellbound, unable to move +a limb. + +The stranger was now ascending the fourth flight. Raskolnikoff, who +until then had been riveted to the landing with fright, was at length +able to shake off his torpor, and hastily reentered the apartment, +closing the door behind him. Then he bolted it, being careful to make +as little noise as possible. Instinct rather than reason prompted him +to do this. When he had finished, he remained close to the door, +listening, scarcely daring to breathe. The visitor was now on the +landing. Only the thickness of the door separated the two men. The +unknown was in the same position toward Raskolnikoff as the latter had +been a little while before toward the old woman. The visitor stood +panting for some little time. "He must be stout and big," thought the +young man as he clasped the hatchet firmly in his hand. It was all +like a dream to him. The visitor gave a violent pull at the bell. He +immediately fancied he heard something move inside. He listened +attentively during a few seconds, then he gave another ring and again +waited; suddenly losing patience, he began to shake the door handle +with all his might. Raskolnikoff watched with terror the bolt +trembling in the socket, expecting to see it shoot back at any moment, +so violent were the jerks given to the door. It occurred to him to +hold the bolt in its place with his hand, but the _man_ might have +found it out. His head was turning quite dizzy again. "I shall betray +myself!" thought he; but he suddenly recovered his presence of mind as +the unknown broke the silence. + +"Are they both asleep, or has some one strangled them? The +thrice-confounded creatures!" growled the visitor in a guttural voice. +"Hi! Alena Ivanovna, you old sorceress! Elizabeth Ivanovna, you +indescribable beauty!--open! Oh! the witches! can they be asleep?" + +In his exasperation he rang ten times running, and as loud as he +possibly could. This man was evidently not a stranger there, and was +in the habit of being obeyed. At the same moment some light and rapid +footsteps resounded on the staircase. It was another person coming to +the fourth floor. Raskolnikoff was not at first aware of the +newcomer's arrival. + +"Is it possible that there's no one at home?" said the latter in a +loud and hearty tone of voice, addressing the first visitor who was +still tugging at the bell pull. "Good day, Koch!" + +"Judging by his voice, he must be quite a young man," immediately +thought Raskolnikoff. + +"The devil only knows! I've almost smashed the lock," replied Koch. +"But how is it you know me?" + +"What a question! The day before yesterday I played you at billiards, +at Gambrinus's, and won three games right off." + +"Ah!" + +"So they're not at home? That's strange. I might almost say it's +ridiculous. Where can the old woman have gone? I want to speak with +her." + +"And I too, _batuchka_, I want to speak with her." + +"Well, what's to be done? I suppose we must go back to whence we came. +I wanted to borrow some money of her!" exclaimed the young man. + +"Of course we must go back again; but why then did she make an +appointment? She herself, the old witch, told me to come at this hour. +And it's a long way to where I live. Where the deuce can she be? I +don't understand it. She never stirs from one year's end to the other, +the old witch; she quite rots in the place, her legs have always got +something the matter with them, and now all on a sudden she goes +gallivanting about!" + +"Suppose we question the porter?" + +"What for?" + +"To find out where she's gone and when she will be back." + +"Hum!--the deuce!--question!--but she never goes anywhere." And he +again tugged at the door handle. "The devil take her! there's nothing +to be done but to go." + +"Wait!" suddenly exclaimed the young man, "look!--do you notice how +the door resists when we pull it?" + +"Well, what then?" + +"Why, that shows that it's not locked, but bolted! Hark how it +clinks!" + +"Well?" + +"Don't you understand? That shows that one of them must be at home. If +both were out, they would have locked the door after them, and not +have bolted it inside. Listen, don't you hear the noise it makes? +Well, to bolt one's door, one must be at home, you understand. +Therefore it follows that they are at home, only for some reason or +other they don't open the door!" + +"Why, yes, you're right!" exclaimed the astonished Koch. "So they're +there, are they?" And he again shook the door violently. + +"Stay!" resumed the young man, "don't pull like that. There's +something peculiar about this. You've rung, you've pulled at the door +with all your might, and they haven't answered you; therefore, they've +either both fainted away, or----" + +"What?" + +"This is what we had better do: have the porter up, so that he may +find out what's the matter." + +"That's not a bad idea!" + +They both started downstairs. + +"Stop! you stay here; I'll fetch the porter." + +"Why stay here?" + +"Well, one never knows what might happen----" + +"All right." + +"You see, I might also pass for an examining magistrate! There's +something very peculiar about all this, that's evident, e-vi-dent!" +said the young man excitedly, and he hastily made his way down the +stairs. + +Left alone, Koch rang again, but gently this time; then, with a +thoughtful air, he began to play with the door handle, turning it +first one way, then the other, so as to make sure the door was only +bolted. After this, with a great deal of puffing and blowing, he +stooped down to look through the keyhole, but the key was in the lock, +and turned in such a way that one could not see through. Standing up +on the other side of the door, Raskolnikoff still held the hatchet in +his hands. He was almost in a state of delirium and was preparing to +attack the two men the moment they forced an entrance. More than once, +on hearing them knocking and planning together, he had felt inclined +to put an end to the matter there and then by calling out to them. At +times he experienced a desire to abuse and defy them, while awaiting +their irruption. "The sooner it's over the better!" he kept thinking. + +"The devil take them!" The time passed; still no one came. Koch was +beginning to lose patience. "The devil take them!" he muttered again, +and, tired of waiting, he relinquished his watch to go and find the +young man. By degrees the sound of his heavy boots echoing on the +stairs ceased to be heard. + +"Heavens! What shall I do?" + +Raskolnikoff drew back the bolt and opened the door a few inches. +Reassured by the silence which reigned in the house, and, moreover, +scarcely in a fit state at the time to reflect on what he did, he went +out on to the landing, shut the door behind him as securely as he +could and turned to go downstairs. He had already descended several +steps when suddenly a great uproar arose from one of the floors below. +Where could he hide? Concealment was impossible, so he hastened +upstairs again. + +"Hi there! hang it! stop!" + +He who uttered these cries had just burst out of one of the lodgings, +and was rushing down the stairs as fast as his legs would carry him, +yelling the while: "Dmitri! Dmitri! Dmitri! May the devil take the +fool!" + +The rest died away in the distance; the man who was uttering these +cries had already left the house far behind. All was once more silent; +but scarcely was this alarm over than a fresh one succeeded it: +several individuals talking together in a loud tone of voice were +noisily coming up the stairs. There were three or four of them. +Raskolnikoff recognized the young man's sonorous accents. "It is +they!" No longer hoping to escape them, he advanced boldly to meet +them: "Let happen what will!" said he to himself: "if they stop me, +all is over; if they let me pass, all is over just the same: they will +remember passing me on the stairs." They were about to encounter him, +only one flight separated them--when suddenly he felt himself saved! A +few steps from him, to the right, there was an empty lodging with the +door wide open, it was that same one on the second floor where he had +seen the painters working, but, by a happy chance, they had just left +it. It was they, no doubt, who a few minutes before had gone off, +uttering those shouts. The paint on the floors was quite fresh, the +workmen had left their things in the middle of the room: a small tub, +some paint in an earthenware crock, and a big brush. In the twinkling +of an eye, Raskolnikoff glided into the deserted apartment and hid +himself as best he could up against the wall. It was none too soon: +his pursuers were already on the landing; they did not stop there, +however, but went on up to the fourth floor, talking loudly among +themselves. After waiting till they had got some distance off, he left +the room on tiptoe and hurried down as fast as his legs would carry +him. No one on the stairs! No one either at the street door! He +stepped briskly outside, and, once in the street, turned to the left. + +He knew very well, he knew without a doubt, that they who were seeking +him were at that moment in the old woman's lodging, and were amazed to +find that the door, which a little while before had been shut so +securely, was now open. "They're examining the corpses," thought he; +"it won't take them a minute to come to the conclusion that the +murderer managed to hide himself from them as they went up the stairs; +perhaps they may even have a suspicion that he stowed himself away in +the empty lodging on the second floor while they were hurrying to the +upper part of the house." But, in spite of these reflections, he did +not dare to increase his pace, though he still had a hundred steps or +so to go before reaching the first turning. "Suppose I slipped into +some doorway, in some out-of-the-way street, and waited there a few +minutes? No, that would never do! I might throw my hatchet away +somewhere? or take a cab? No good! no good!" At last he reached a +narrow lane; he entered it more dead than alive. There, he was almost +in safety, and he knew it: in such a place, suspicion could hardly be +fixed upon him; while, on the other hand, it was easier for him to +avoid notice by mingling with the crowd. But all these agonizing +events had so enfeebled him that he could scarcely keep on his legs. +Great drops of perspiration streamed down his face; his neck was quite +wet. "I think you've had your fill!" shouted some one who took him for +a drunken man as he reached the canal bank. + +He no longer knew what he was doing; the farther he went, the more +obscure became his ideas. However, when he found himself on the quay, +he became frightened at seeing so few people there, and, fearing that +he might be noticed on so deserted a spot, he returned to the lane. +Though he had hardly the strength to put one leg before the other, he +nevertheless took the longest way to reach his home. He had scarcely +recovered his presence of mind even when he crossed the threshold; at +least the thought of the hatchet never came to him until he was on the +stairs. Yet the question he had to solve was a most serious one: it +consisted in returning the hatchet to the place he had taken it from, +and in doing so without attracting the least attention. Had he been +more capable of considering his position, he would certainly have +understood that, instead of replacing the hatchet, it would be far +safer to get rid of it by throwing it into the yard of some other +house. + +Nevertheless he met with no mishap. The door of the porter's lodge was +closed, though not locked; to all appearance, therefore, the porter +was at home. But Raskolnikoff had so thoroughly lost all faculty of +preparing any kind of plan, that he walked straight to the door and +opened it. If the porter had asked him: "What do you want?" perhaps he +would simply have handed him the hatchet. But, the same as on the +previous occasion, the porter was absent, and this gave the young man +every facility to replace the hatchet under the bench, exactly where +he had found it. Then he went upstairs and reached his room without +meeting a soul; the door of his landlady's apartments was shut. Once +home again, he threw himself on his couch just as he was. He did not +sleep, but lay in a sort of semiconsciousness. If anybody had then +appeared before him, he would have sprung up and cried out. His head +was swimming with a host of vague thoughts: do what he could, he was +unable to follow the thread of one of them. + +Raskolnikoff lay on the couch a very long while. At times he seemed to +rouse from this half sleep, and then he noticed that the night was +very far advanced, but still it never entered his head to rise. Soon +it began to brighten into day, and the dawn found him in a state of +stupefaction, lying motionless on his back. A desperate clamor, and +sounds of brawls from the streets below, rose to his ears. These +awakened him thoroughly, although he heard them every morning early at +the same hour. "Ah! two o'clock, drinking is over," and he started up +as though some one had pulled him off the couch. "What! two o'clock +already?" He sat on the edge of the couch and then recollected +everything, in an instant it all came back! At first he thought he was +going out of his mind, a strange chill pervaded his frame, but the +cold arose from the fever which had seized upon him during his sleep. +He shivered until his teeth chattered, and all his limbs fairly shook. +He went to the door, opened it, and listened; all was silent in the +house. With astonishment he turned and looked round the room. How +could he have come home the night before, not bolted the door, and +thrown himself on the couch just as he was, not only not undressed, +but with his hat on? There it lay in the middle of the floor where it +had rolled. "If anyone came in, what would he think? That I am drunk, +of course." + +He went to the window--it was pretty light--and looked himself all +over from head to foot, to see if there were any stains on his +clothes. But he could not rely upon that sort of inspection; so, still +shivering, he undressed and examined his clothes again, looking +everywhere with the greatest care. To make quite sure, he went over +them three times. He discovered nothing but a few drops of clotted +blood on the ends of his trousers which were very much frayed. He took +a big clasp-knife and cut off the frayed edges. Suddenly he remembered +that the purse and the things he had abstracted from the old woman's +chest, were still in his pockets! He had never thought of taking them +out and hiding them! indeed, it had never crossed his mind that they +were in his pockets while examining his clothes! Was it possible? In a +second he emptied all out on to the table in a heap. Then, turning his +pockets inside out to make sure there was nothing left in them, he +carried the things to a corner of the room. Just there, the paper was +hanging loose from the wall; he bent down and commenced to stuff all +the things into a hole behind the paper. "There, it's all out of +sight!" thought he gleefully, as he stood gazing stupidly at the spot +where the paper bulged out more than ever. Suddenly he began to +shudder from terror. "Good heavens!" murmured he in despair, "what is +the matter with me? Is that hidden? Is that the way to hide anything?" + +Indeed, he had not reckoned on such spoil, he had only thought of +taking the old woman's money; so he was not prepared with a hiding +place for the jewels. "I have no cause to rejoice now," thought he. +"Is that the way to hide anything? I must really be losing my senses!" +He sunk on the couch again exhausted; another fit of intolerable +shivering seized him, and he mechanically pulled his old student's +cloak over him for warmth, as he fell into a delirious sleep. He lost +all consciousness of himself. Not more than five minutes had elapsed +before he woke up in intense excitement, and bent over his clothes in +the deepest anguish. "How could I go to sleep again when nothing is +done! For I have done nothing, the loop is still where I sewed it. I +forgot all about that! What a convincing proof it would have been." He +ripped it off and tore it into shreds which he placed among his +underlinen under the pillow. "These rags cannot awaken any suspicions, +I fancy; at least, so it seems to me," repeated he, standing up in the +middle of the room, and, with an attempt rendered all the more painful +by the effort it cost him, he looked all round, trying to make sure he +had forgotten nothing. He suffered cruelly from this conviction, that +everything, even memory, even the most elementary prudence, was +abandoning him. + +"Can this be the punishment already beginning? Indeed! indeed! it is!" + +And indeed the frayed edges he had cut from the bottom of his trousers +were lying on the floor, in the middle of the room, exposed to the +view of the first comer. "But what can I be thinking of?" exclaimed he +in utter bewilderment. Then a strange idea came into his head; he +thought that perhaps all his clothes were saturated in blood, and that +he could not see this because his senses were gone and his perception +of things lost. Then he recollected that there would be traces on the +purse, and his pockets would be wet with blood. It was so. "I am +bereft of my reason, I know not what I am doing. Bah! not at all!--it +is only weakness, delirium. I shall soon be better." He tore at the +lining. At this moment the rays of the morning streamed in and shone +on his left boot. There were plain traces, and all the point was +covered. "I must have stepped in that pool. What shall I do now? Boot, +lining, rags, where shall they go?" He rolled them up and stood +thinking in the middle of the room. "Ah, the stove. Yes, burn them. +No, I cannot, I have no match. Better throw them away. Yes, yes, that +is the thing," said he, again sitting on the couch. "At once, and +without delay too, quick." But, instead, his head fell back upon the +pillow, and chilly shiverings again came over him. He covered himself +with his cloak and slept again. It appeared hours to him, and many a +time in his sleep he tried to rise to hasten to throw away his bundle, +but he could not, he seemed chained to the bed. At last he awoke, as +he heard a loud knock at his door. + +"Eh, open, will you?" cried Nastasia. "Don't lie there like a dog. +It's eleven o'clock." + +"Perhaps he is not in," said a man's voice. + +"The porter's voice. What does he want?" Raskolnikoff rose, and sat on +the couch listening. His heart throbbed violently. "Who has bolted the +door then?" exclaimed the servant. "Open, will you?" + +"All must be discovered?" He rose a little and undid the bolt, and +fell back again on his bed. There stood the porter and Nastasia. The +servant looked strangely at Raskolnikoff, while he fixed a despairing +glance upon the porter. + +"Here is a notice for you from the office," said the latter. + +"What office?" + +"The police office." + +"What for?" + +"I don't know. You are summoned there, go." The porter looked +anxiously at the lodger, and turned to leave. Raskolnikoff made no +observation, and held the paper unopened in his hand. + +"There, stay where you are," said Nastasia, seeing him fall back on +the couch. "If you are ill, do not go. What is that in your hand?" + +He looked down; in his right hand were clutched the pieces of frayed +cloth, his boot, and the lining of his pocket. He had evidently fallen +asleep with them as they were; indeed he recollected how, thinking +deeply about them, he had dozed away. + +"The idea of taking a lot of rags to bed and hugging them to you like +a treasure!" laughed the servant in her sickly manner. + +In a second he hid all under his coat and looked at her attentively. +Although little was capable of passing in his mind, he felt she would +not talk thus to a man under arrest for a crime. But then, the police? + +"Is there anything you want? You stay here, I will bring it." + +"No, I will go. I am going at once," murmured he, rising to his feet. + +"Very well." + +She went out after the porter. As soon as she had disappeared, he +rushed to the light to look at his boot. Yes, there were spots, but +not very plain, all covered with mud. But who would distinguish them? +Nastasia could know nothing, thank heavens! Then with trembling hand +he tore open the notice, and began to read. At last he understood; it +was simply the usual notice to report himself at the office of the +district that day at half-past nine o'clock. + +"But why to-day?" cried he. "Lord, let it be over soon." He was about +to fall down on his knees to pray, when a fit of laughter seized him. +"I must trust to myself, not to prayers." He quickly dressed himself. +"Shall I put the boot on?" he thought, "better throw it away, and hide +all traces of it." Nevertheless he put it on, only, however, to throw +it off again with an expression of horror. As, however, he recollected +he had no other, a smile came to his face, and he drew it on once +more. Again his face changed into deep despair, his limbs shook more +and more. "This is not from exertion," thought he, "it is fear." His +head spun round and round and his temples throbbed visibly. + +On the stairs he recollected that all the things were in the hole in +the wall, and then where was his certificate of birth? He stopped to +think. But such despair, and, if it may be so called, cynicism, took +hold of him, that he simply shook his head and went out. The sooner +over, the better. Once again in the open air, he encountered the same +insufferable heat, the dust, and the people in drink rolling about the +streets. The sun caught him full in the eyes and almost blinded him, +while his head spun round and round, as is usual in fever. On reaching +the turning into the street he had taken the day before, he glanced in +great agitation in the direction of the house, but immediately averted +his eyes again. "If they ask me, I should confess, perhaps," said he +to himself, as he turned away and made for the office. This was not +far distant, in a new house, on the fourth floor. As he entered the +court, he saw to the right of him a staircase, ascending which was a +man carrying some books. "It was evidently there." He did not think of +asking. + +"I will go and fall on my knees and confess all," he murmured, and +began to ascend the narrow and very steep stairs. On every floor the +doors of the kitchens of the several apartments stood open to the +staircase, and emitted a suffocating, sickening odor. The entrance to +the office he was in search of was also wide open, and he walked in. A +number of persons were waiting in the anteroom. The stench was simply +intolerable, and was intensified by the smell of fresh paint. Pausing +a little, he decided to advance farther into the small low room. He +became impatient when he found no one took any notice of him. In an +inner room were seated a number of clerks engaged in writing. He went +up to one of these. + +"What do you want?" Raskolnikoff showed him the notice. + +"You are a student?" asked a clerk, glancing at the notice. + +"Yes;--that is, I used to be." + +The clerk glanced at him--without, however, any particular curiosity. +He was a man with unkempt hair and an expressionless face. + +"There is nothing to be learned from him, evidently," thought +Raskolnikoff. + +"Step in there to the head clerk," said the man, pointing to a farther +room, which was quite full of people, among whom were two ladies. + +The assistant district officer, a man adorned with red whiskers +standing out on either side of his face, and with extremely small +features, looked up impatiently at Raskolnikoff, whose filthy attire +was by no means prepossessing. The latter returned his glance calmly +and straight in the face, and in such a manner as to give the officer +offense. + +"What do you want here?" he cried, apparently surprised that such a +ragged beggar was not knocked down by his thunder-bearing glance. + +"I am here because I was summoned," stammered Raskolnikoff. + +"It is for the recovery of money lent," said the head clerk. "Here!" +and he threw a paper to Raskolnikoff, "Read!" + +"Money? What money? It cannot be that," thought the young man, and he +trembled with joy. Everything became clear, and the load fell off his +shoulders. + +"At what hour did you receive this, sir?" cried the lieutenant; "you +were told to come at nine o'clock, and now it is nearly twelve!" + +"I received it a quarter of an hour ago," loudly replied Raskolnikoff, +over his shoulder, suddenly angered, "and it is sufficient to say that +I am ill with a fever." + +"Please not to bawl!" + +"I did not bawl, but spoke plainly; it is you that bawl. I am a +student, and am not going to have you speak to me in that fashion." + +The officer became enraged, and fumed so that only splutters flew out +of his mouth. He jumped up from his place. "Please keep silence. You +are in court. Don't be insolent." + +"And so are you in court; and, besides bawling, you are smoking, so +you are wanting in politeness to the whole company." As he said this, +Raskolnikoff felt an inexpressible delight at his maliciousness. The +clerk looked up with a smile. The choleric officer was clearly +nonplused. + +"That is not your business, sir," he cried at last, unnaturally loud. +"Make the necessary declaration. Show him, Alexander Gregorivitch. +Complaints have been made about you! You don't pay your debts! You +know how to fly the kite evidently!" + +Raskolnikoff did not listen, but greedily seized the paper. He read it +through more than once, and could make nothing of it. "What is this?" +he asked of the clerk. + +"It is a writ for recovery on a note of hand of yours. Please write," +said the clerk. + +"Write what?" asked he rudely. + +"As I dictate." + +The clerk stood near and dictated to him the usual form of +declaration: that he was unable to pay, that he would not quit the +capital, dispose of his goods in any way, etc., etc. + +"You cannot write, your pen is falling from your fingers," said the +clerk, and he looked him in the face. "Are you ill?" + +"Yes, my head swims. Go on." + +"That is all. Now sign it." + +Raskolnikoff let fall the pen, and seemed as if about to rise and go; +but, instead of doing so, he laid both elbows on the table and +supported his head with his hands. A new idea formed in his mind: to +rise immediately, go straight to Nicodemus Thomich the ward officer +and tell him all that had occurred; then to accompany him to his room, +and show him all the things hidden away in the wall behind the paper. +His desire to do all this was of such strength that he got up from the +table to carry his design into execution. "Reflect, reflect a moment!" +ran in his head. "No, better not think, get it off my shoulders." +Suddenly he stood still as if shot. Nicodemus Thomich was at this +moment hotly discussing something with Elia Petrovitch, the inspector +of police, and the words caught Raskolnikoff's anxious attention. He +listened. + +"It cannot be, they will both be released. In the first place, all is +contradictory. Consider. Why did they call the porter if it were their +work? To denounce themselves? Or out of cunning? Not at all, that +would be too much! Besides, did not the porter see the student +Pestriakoff at the very gate just as he came in, and he stood there +some time with three friends who had accompanied him. And Koch: was he +not below in the silversmith's for half an hour before he went up to +the old woman's? Now, consider." + +"But see what contradictions arise! They say they knocked and found +the door closed; yet three minutes after, when they went back with the +porter, it was open." + +"That's true. The murderer was inside, and had bolted the door, and +certainly he would have been captured had not Koch foolishly run off +to the porter. In the interval _he_, no doubt, had time to escape +downstairs. Koch explains that, if he had remained, the man would have +leaped out and killed him. He wanted to have a _Te Deum_ sung. Ha, +ha!" + +"Did nobody see the murderer?" + +"How could they? The house is a perfect Noah's ark," put in the clerk, +who had been listening. + +"The thing is clear, very clear," said Nicodemus Thomich decisively. + +"Not at all! Not at all!" cried Elia Petrovitch, in reply. + +Raskolnikoff took up his hat and made for the door, but he never +reached it. When he came to himself he found he was sitting on a +chair, supported on the right by some unknown man, while to his left +stood another, holding some yellow water in a yellow glass. Nicodemus +Thomich, standing before him, was looking at him fixedly. Raskolnikoff +rose. + +"What is it? Are you ill?" asked the officer sharply. + +"He could hardly hold the pen to sign his name," the clerk explained, +at the same time going back to his books. + +"Have you been ill very long?" cried Elia Petrovitch from his table; +he had run to see the swoon and returned to his place. + +"Since yesterday," murmured Raskolnikoff in reply. + +"You went out yesterday?" + +"I did." + +"Ill?" + +"Ill!" + +"At what time?" + +"Eight o'clock in the evening." + +"Where did you go, allow me to ask?" + +"In the streets." + +"Concise and clear." + +Raskolnikoff had replied sharply, in a broken voice, his face as pale +as a handkerchief, and with his black swollen eyes averted from Elia +Petrovitch's scrutinizing glance. + +"He can hardly stand on his legs. Do you want to ask anything more?" +said Nicodemus Thomich. + +"Nothing," replied Elia Petrovitch. + +Nicodemus Thomich evidently wished to say more, but, turning to the +clerk, who in turn glanced expressively at him, the latter became +silent, all suddenly stopped speaking. It was strange. + +Raskolnikoff went out. As he descended the stairs he could hear an +animated discussion had broken out, and above all, the interrogative +voice of Nicodemus Thomich. In the street he came to himself. + +"Search, search! they are going to search!" he cried. "The scoundrels, +they suspect me!" The old dread seized him again, from head to foot. + +Here was the room. All was quiet, and no one had, apparently, +disturbed it--not even Nastasia. But, heavens! how could he have left +all those things where they were? He rushed to the corner, pushed his +hands behind the paper, took out the things, and thrust them in his +pockets. There were eight articles in all: two little boxes with +earrings or something of that description, then four little morocco +cases; a chain wrapped up in paper, and something else done up in a +common piece of newspaper--possibly a decoration. Raskolnikoff +distributed these, together with the purse, about his person, in order +to make them less noticeable, and quitted the room again. All the time +he had left the door wide open. He went away hurriedly, fearing +pursuit. Perhaps in a few minutes orders would be issued to hunt him +down, so he must hide all traces of his theft at once; and he would do +so while he had strength and reason left him. But where should he go? + +This had been long decided. Throw the lot in the canal and the matter +would be at an end! So he had resolved in that night of delirium, when +he cried out, "Quick, quick! throw all away!" But this was not so +easy. He wandered to the quays of the Catherine Canal, and lingered +there for half an hour. Here a washing raft lay where he had thought +of sinking his spoil, or there boats were moored, and everywhere +people swarmed. Then, again, would the cases sink? Would they not +rather float? No, this would not do. He would go to the Neva; there +would be fewer people there and more room, and it would be more +convenient. He recognized that he had been wandering about for fully +half an hour, and in dangerous places. He must make haste. He made his +way to the river, but soon came to another standstill. Why in the +Neva? Why in the water at all? Better some solitary place in a wood, +or under some bushes. Dig a hole and bury them! He felt he was not in +a condition to deliberate clearly and soundly, but this idea appeared +the best. + +This idea also, however, was not destined to be realized, and another +took its place. As he passed the V---- Prospect, he suddenly noticed +on the left an entrance into a court, which was surrounded entirely by +high walls. On the right, a long way up the court, rose the side of a +huge four-storied building. To the left, parallel with the walls of +the house, and commencing immediately at the gate, there ran a wooden +boarding of about twenty paces down the court. Then came a space where +a lot of rubbish was deposited; while farther down, at the bottom of +the court, was a shed, apparently part of some workshop, possibly that +of a carpenter or coach builder. Everything appeared as black as coal +dust. Here was the very place, he thought; and, after looking round, +went up the court. Behind the door he espied a large unworked stone, +weighing about fifty pounds, which lay close up against the hoarding. +No one could see him where he stood; he was entirely free from +observation. He bent down to the stone, managed to turn it over after +considerable effort, and found underneath a small cavity. He threw in +the cases, and then the purse on the top of all. The stone was not +perceptibly higher when he had replaced it, and little traces of its +having been moved could be noticed. So he pressed some earth against +the edges with his foot, and made off. + +He laughed for joy when again in the street. All traces were gone, and +who would think of looking there? And if they were found who would +suspect him? All proofs were gone, and he laughed again. Yes, he +recollected afterwards how he laughed--a long, nervous, lingering +laugh, lasting all the time he was in that street. + +He reached home toward evening, perhaps at about eight o'clock--how, +and by what particular way he never recollected--but, speedily +undressing, he lay down on the couch, trembling like a beaten horse, +and, drawing his overcoat over him, he fell immediately into a deep +sleep. He awoke in a high fever and delirious. Some days later he came +to himself, rose and went out. It was eight o'clock, and the sun had +disappeared. The heat was as intolerable as before, but he inhaled the +dusty, fetid, infected town air with greediness. And now his head +began to spin round, and a wild expression of energy crept into his +inflamed eyes and pale, meager, wan face. He did not know, did not +even think, what he was going to do; he only knew that all was to be +finished "today," at one blow, immediately, or he would never return +home, because he had no desire to live thus. How to finish? By what +means? No matter how, and he did not want to think. He drove away any +thoughts which disturbed him, and only clung to the necessity of +ending all, "no matter how," said he, with desperate self-confidence +and decision. By force of habit he took his old walk, and set out in +the direction of the Haymarket. Farther on, he came on a young man who +was grinding some very feeling ballads upon a barrel organ. Near the +man, on the footpath, was a young girl of about fifteen years of age, +fashionably dressed, with crinoline, mantle, and gloves, and a straw +hat trimmed with gaudy feathers, but all old and terribly worn out, +who, in a loud and cracked though not altogether unpleasing voice, was +singing before a shop in expectation of a couple of kopecks. +Raskolnikoff stopped and joined one or two listeners, took out a +five-kopeck piece, and gave it to the girl. The latter at once stopped +on a very high note which she had just reached, and cried to the man, +"Come along," and both immediately moved on to another place. + +"Do you like street music?" said Raskolnikoff to a middle-aged man +standing near him. The latter looked at him in surprise, but smiled. +"I love it," continued Raskolnikoff, "especially when they sing to the +organ on a cold, dark, gray winter's evening, when all the passers-by +seem to have pale, green, sickly-looking faces--when the snow is +falling like a sleet, straight down and with no wind, you know, and +while the lamps shine on it all." + +"I don't know. Excuse me," said the man, frightened at the question +and Raskolnikoff's strange appearance, and hastily withdrawing to the +other side of the street. + +Raskolnikoff went on, and came to the place in the Haymarket where he +had met the trader and his wife and Elizabeth. No one was there at the +moment. He stopped, and turned to a young fellow, in a red shirt, who +was gaping at the entrance to a flour shop. + +"A man trades here at this corner, with his wife, eh?" + +"Everyone trades here," replied the lad, scanning his questioner from +head to foot. + +"What is he called?" + +"What he was christened." + +"But you belong to Zaraisk, don't you? To what Government?" + +The boy stared at Raskolnikoff. "We have no governor, your highness, +but districts. I stay at home, and know nothing about it, but my +brother does; so pardon me, your most mighty highness." + +"Is that an eating house there?" + +"That's a dram shop; they have a billiard table." + +"There are newspapers here?" asked he, as he entered a room--one of a +suite--rather empty. Two or three persons sat with tea before them, +while in a farther room a group of men were seated, drinking +champagne. Raskolnikoff thought he recognized Zametoff among them, but +he could not be sure. "Never mind, if it is!" he muttered. + +"Brandy, sir?" asked the waiter. + +"No, tea; and bring me some newspapers--for about the last five days. +I'll give you a drink." + +The papers and the tea appeared. Raskolnikoff sat and searched, and, +at last, found what he wanted. "Ah, here it is!" he cried, as he began +to read. The words danced before his eyes, but he read greedily to the +end, and turned to others for later intelligence. His hands trembled +with impatience, and the sheets shook again. Suddenly some one sat +down near him. He looked up, and there was Zametoff--that same +Zametoff, with his rings and chain, his oiled locks and fancy +waistcoat and unclean linen. He seemed pleased, and his tanned face, a +little inflamed by the champagne, wore a smile. + +"Ah! you here?" he commenced, in a tone as if he had known +Raskolnikoff for an age. "Why Razoumikhin told me yesterday that you +were lying unconscious. How strange! Then I was at your place----" + +Raskolnikoff laid down the paper and turned to Zametoff. On his lips +was a slight provoking smile. "I know you were," he replied, "I heard +so. You searched for my boot. To what agreeable places you resort. Who +gives you champagne to drink?" + +"We were drinking together. What do you mean?" + +"Nothing, dear boy, nothing," said Raskolnikoff, with a smile and +slapping Zametoff on the shoulders. "I am not in earnest, but simply +in fun, as your workman said, when he wrestled with Dmitri, you know, +in that murder case." + +"Do you know about that?" + +"Yes, and perhaps more than you do." + +"You are very peculiar. It is a pity you came out. You are ill." + +"Do I seem strange?" + +"Yes; what are you reading?" + +"The paper." + +"There are a number of fires." + +"I am not reading about them." He looked curiously at Zametoff, and a +malicious smile distorted his lips. "No, fires are not in my line," he +added, winking at Zametoff. "Now, I should like to know, sweet youth, +what it signifies to you what I read?" + +"Nothing at all. I only asked. Perhaps I----" + +"Listen. You are a cultivated man--a literary man, are you not?" + +"I was in the sixth class at college," Zametoff answered, with a +certain amount of dignity. + +"The sixth! Oh, my fine fellow! With rings and a chain--a rich man! +You are a dear boy," and Raskolnikoff gave a short, nervous laugh, +right in the face of Zametoff. The latter was very much taken aback, +and, if not offended, seemed a good deal surprised. + +"How strange you are!" said Zametoff seriously. "You have the fever +still on you; you are raving!" + +"Am I, my fine fellow--am I strange? Yes, but I am very interesting to +you, am I not?" + +"Interesting?" + +"Yes. You ask me what I am reading, what I am looking for; then I am +looking through a number of papers. Suspicious, isn't it? Well, I will +explain to you, or rather confess--no, not that exactly. I will give +testimony, and you shall take it down--that's it. So then, I swear +that I was reading, and came here on purpose"--Raskolnikoff blinked +his eyes and paused--"to read an account of the murder of the old +woman." He finished almost in a whisper, eagerly watching Zametoff's +face. The latter returned his glances without flinching. And it +appeared strange to Zametoff that a full minute seemed to pass as they +kept fixedly staring at each other in this manner. + +"Oh, so that's what you have been reading?" Zametoff at last cried +impatiently. "What is there in that?" "She is the same woman," +continued Raskolnikoff, still in a whisper, and taking no notice of +Zametoff's remark, "the very same woman you were talking about when I +swooned in your office. You recollect--you surely recollect?" + +"Recollect what?" said Zametoff, almost alarmed. + +The serious expression on Raskolnikoff's face altered in an instant, +and he again commenced his nervous laugh, and laughed as if he were +quite unable to contain himself. There had recurred to his mind, with +fearful clearness, the moment when he stood at the door with the +hatchet in his hand. There he was, holding the bolt, and they were +tugging and thumping away at the door. Oh, how he itched to shriek at +them, open the door, thrust out his tongue at them, and frighten them +away, and then laugh, "Ah, ah, ah, ah!" + +"You are insane, or else--" said Zametoff, and then paused as if a new +thought had suddenly struck him. + +"Or what, or what? Now what? Tell me!" + +"Nonsense!" said Zametoff to himself, "it can't be." Both became +silent. After this unexpected and fitful outburst of laughter, +Raskolnikoff had become lost in thought and looked very sad. He leaned +on the table with his elbows, buried his head in his hands, and seemed +to have quite forgotten Zametoff. The silence continued a long time. +"You do not drink your tea; it is getting cold," said the latter, at +last. + +"What? Tea? Yes!" Raskolnikoff snatched at his glass, put a piece of +bread in his mouth, and then, after looking at Zametoff, seemingly +recollected and roused himself. His face at once resumed its previous +smile, and he continued to sip his tea. + +"What a number of rogues there are about," Zametoff said. "I read not +long ago, in the Moscow papers, that they had captured a whole gang of +forgers in that city. Quite a colony." + +"That's old news. I read it a month ago," replied Raskolnikoff in a +careless manner. "And you call such as these rogues?" he added, +smiling. + +"Why not?" + +"Rogues indeed! Why, they are only children and babies. Fifty banded +together for such purposes! Is it possible? Three would be quite +sufficient, and then they should be sure of one another--not babble +over their cups. The babies! Then to hire unreliable people to change +the notes at the money changers', persons whose hands tremble as they +receive the rubles. On such their lives depend! Far better to strangle +yourself! The man goes in, receives the change, counts some over, the +last portion he takes on faith, stuffs all in his pocket, rushes away +and the murder is out. All is lost by one foolish man. Is it not +ridiculous?" + +"That his hands should shake?" replied Zametoff. "No; that is quite +likely. Yours would not, I suppose? I could not endure it, though. For +a paltry reward of a hundred rubles to go on such a mission! And +where? Into a banker's office with forged notes! I should certainly +lose my head. Would not you?" + +Raskolnikoff felt again a strong impulse to make a face at him. A +shiver ran down his back. "You would not catch me acting so +foolishly," he commenced. "This is how I should do. I should count +over the first thousand very carefully, perhaps four times, right to +the end, carefully examine each note, and then only pass to the second +thousand, count these as far as the middle of the bundle, take out a +note, hold it to the light, turn it over, then hold it to the light +again, and say, 'I fear this is a bad note,' and then begin to relate +some story about a lost note. Then there would be a third thousand to +count. Not yet, please, there is a mistake in the second thousand. No, +it is correct. And so I should proceed until I had received all. At +last I should turn to go, open the door, but, no, pardon me! I should +return, ask some question, receive some explanation, and there it is +all done." + +"What funny things you do say!" said Zametoff with a smile. "You are +all very well theoretically, but try it and see. Look, for example, at +the murder of the money lender, a case in point. There was a desperate +villain who in broad daylight stopped at nothing, and yet his hand +shook, did it not?--and he could not finish, and left all the spoil +behind him. The deed evidently robbed him of his presence of mind." + +This language nettled Raskolnikoff. "You think so? Then lay your hand +upon him," said he, maliciously delighted to tease him. + +"Never fear but we shall!" + +"You? Go to, you know nothing about it. All you think of inquiring is +whether a man is flinging money about; he is--then, _ergo_ he is +guilty." + +"That is exactly what they do," replied Zametoff, "they murder, risk +their lives, and then rush to the public house and are caught. Their +lavishness betrays them. You see they are not all so crafty as you +are. You would not run there, I suppose?" + +Raskolnikoff frowned and looked steadily at Zametoff. "You seem +anxious to know how I should act," he said with some displeasure. + +"I should very much like to know," replied Zametoff in a serious tone. +He seemed, indeed, very anxious. + +"Very much?" + +"Very much." + +"Good. This would be my plan," Raskolnikoff said, as he again bent +near to the face of his listener, and speaking in such a tragic +whisper as almost to make the latter shudder. "I should take the money +and all I could find, and make off, going, however, in no particular +direction, but on and on until I came to some obscure and inclosed +place, where no one was about--a market garden, or any such-like spot. +I should then look about me for a stone, perhaps a pound and a half in +weight, lying, it may be, in a corner against a partition, say a stone +used for building purposes; this I should lift up and under it there +would be a hole. In that hole I should deposit all the things I had +got, roll back the stone, stamp it down with my feet, and be off. For +a year I should let them lie--for two years, three years. Now then, +search for them! Where are they?" + +"You are indeed mad," said Zametoff, also in a low tone, but turning +away from Raskolnikoff. The latter's eyes glistened, he became paler +than ever, while his upper lip trembled violently. He placed his face +closer, if possible, to that of Zametoff, his lips moving as if he +wished to speak, but no words escaped them--several moments +elapsed--Raskolnikoff knew what he was doing, but felt utterly unable +to control himself, that strange impulse was upon him as when he stood +at the bolted door, to come forth and let all be known. + +"What if I killed the old woman and Elizabeth?" he asked suddenly, and +then--came to himself. + +Zametoff turned quite pale; then his face changed to a smile. "Can it +be so?" he muttered to himself. + +Raskolnikoff eyed him savagely. "Speak out. What do you think? Yes? Is +it so?" + +"Of course not. I believe it now less than ever," replied Zametoff +hastily. + +"Caught at last! caught, my fine fellow! What people believe less than +ever, they must have believed once, eh?" + +"Not at all. You frightened me into the supposition," said Zametoff, +visibly confused. + +"So you do not think this? Then why those questions in the office? Why +did the lieutenant question me after my swoon? Waiter," he cried, +seizing his cap, "here, how much?" + +"Thirty kopecks, sir," replied the man. + +"There you are, and twenty for yourself. Look, what a lot of money!" +turning to Zametoff and thrusting forth his shaking hand filled with +the twenty-five rubles, red and blue notes. "Whence comes all this? +Where did I obtain these new clothes from? You know I had none. You +have asked the landlady, I suppose? Well, no matter!--Enough! Adieu, +most affectionately." + +He went out, shaking from some savage hysterical emotion, a mixture of +delight, gloom, and weariness. His face was drawn as if he had just +recovered from a fit; and, as his agitation of mind increased, so did +his weakness. + +Meanwhile, Zametoff remained in the restaurant where Raskolnikoff had +left him, deeply buried in thought, considering the different points +Raskolnikoff had placed before him. + +His heart was empty and depressed, and he strove again to drive off +thought. No feeling of anguish came, neither was there any trace of +that fierce energy which moved him when he left the house to "put an +end to it all." + +"What will be the end of it? The result lies in my own will. What kind +of end? Ah, we are all alike, and accept the bit of ground for our +feet and live. Must this be the end? Shall I say the word or not? Oh, +how weary I feel! Oh, to lie down or sit anywhere! How foolish it is +to strive against my illness! Bah! What thoughts run through my +brain!" Thus he meditated as he went drowsily along the banks of the +canal, until, turning to the right and then to the left, he reached +the office building. He stopped short, however, and, turning down a +lane, went on past two other streets, with no fixed purpose, simply, +no doubt, to give himself a few moments longer for reflection. He went +on, his eyes fixed on the ground, until all of a sudden he started, as +if some one had whispered in his ear. Raising his eyes he saw that he +stood before _the house_, at its very gates. + +Quick as lightning, an idea rushed into his head, and he marched +through the yard and made his way up the well-known staircase to the +fourth story. It was, as usual, very dark, and as he reached each +landing he peered almost with caution. There was the room newly +painted, where Dmitri and Mikola had worked. He reached the fourth +landing and he paused before the murdered woman's room in doubt. The +door was wide open and he could hear voices within; this he had not +anticipated. However, after wavering a little, he went straight in. +The room was being done up, and in it were some workmen. This +astonished him--indeed, it would seem he had expected to find +everything as he had left it, even to the dead bodies lying on the +floor. But to see the place with bare walls and bereft of furniture +was very strange! He walked up to the windows and sat on the sill. One +of the workmen now saw him and cried: + +"What do you want here?" + +Instead of replying, Raskolnikoff walked to the outer door and, +standing outside, began to pull at the bell. Yes, that was the bell, +with its harsh sound. He pulled again and again three times, and +remained there listening and thinking. + +"What is it you want?" again cried the workman as he went out to +Raskolnikoff. + +"I wish to hire some rooms. I came to look at these." + +"People don't take lodgings in the night. Why don't you apply to the +porter?" + +"The floor has been washed. Are you going to paint it?" remarked +Raskolnikoff. "Where is the blood?" + +"What blood?" + +"The old woman's and her sister's. There was quite a pool." + +"Who are you?" cried the workman uneasily. + +"I am Rodion Romanovitch Raskolnikoff, ex-student. I live at the +house Schilla, in a lane not far from here, No. 14. Ask the porter +there--he knows me," Raskolnikoff replied indifferently, without +turning to his questioner. + +"What were you doing in those rooms?" + +"Looking at them." + +"What for? Come, out you go then, if you won't explain yourself," +suddenly shouted the porter, a huge fellow in a smock frock, with a +large bunch of keys round his waist; and he caught Raskolnikoff by the +shoulder and pitched him into the street. The latter lurched forward, +but recovered himself, and, giving one look at the spectators, went +quietly away. + +"What shall I do now?" thought Raskolnikoff. He was standing on the +bridge, near a crossing, and was looking around him as if expecting +some one to speak. But no one spoke, and all was dark and dull, and +dead--at least to him, and him alone. + +A few days later, Raskolnikoff heard from his friend Razoumikhin that +those who had borrowed money from Alena Ivanovna were going to the +police office to redeem their pledges. He went with Razoumikhin to the +office where they were received by Porphyrius Petrovitch, the +examining magistrate, who seemed to have expected them. + +"You have been expecting this visit? But how did you know that he had +pledged anything with Alena Ivanovna?" cried Razoumikhin. + +Porphyrius Petrovitch, without any further reply, said to +Raskolnikoff: "Your things, a ring and a watch, were at her place, +wrapped up in a piece of paper, and on this paper your name was +legibly written in pencil, with the date of the day she had received +these things from you." + +"What a memory you must have got!" said Raskolnikoff, with a forced +smile, doing his best to look the magistrate unflinchingly in the +face. However, he could not help adding: "I say so, because, as the +owners of the pledged articles are no doubt very numerous, you must, I +should fancy, have some difficulty in remembering them all; but I see, +on the contrary, that you do nothing of the kind. (Oh! fool! why add +that?)" + +"But they have nearly all of them come here; you alone had not done +so," answered Porphyrius, with an almost imperceptible sneer. + +"I happened to be rather unwell." + +"So I heard. I have been told that you have been in great pain. Even +now you are pale." + +"Not at all. I am not pale. On the contrary, I am very well!" answered +Raskolnikoff in a tone of voice which had all at once become brutal +and violent. He felt rising within him uncontrollable anger. "Anger +will make me say some foolish thing," he thought. "But why do they +exasperate me?" + +"He was rather unwell! A pretty expression, to be sure!" exclaimed +Razoumikhin. "The fact is that up to yesterday he has been almost +unconscious. Would you believe it, Porphyrius? Yesterday, when he +could hardly stand upright, he seized the moment when we had just left +him, to dress, to be off by stealth, and to go loafing about, Heaven +only knows where, till midnight, being, all the time, in a completely +raving condition. Can you imagine such a thing? It is a most +remarkable case!" + +"Indeed! In a completely raving state?" remarked Porphyrius, with the +toss of the head peculiar to Russian rustics. + +"Absurd! Don't you believe a word of it! Besides, I need not urge you +to that effect--of course you are convinced," observed Raskolnikoff, +beside himself with passion. But Porphyrius Petrovitch did not seem to +hear these singular words. + +"How could you have gone out if you had not been delirious?" asked +Razoumikhin, getting angry in his turn. "Why have gone out at all? +What was the object of it? And, above all, to go in that secret +manner? Come, now, make a clean breast of it--you know you were out of +your mind, were you not? Now that danger is gone by, I tell you so to +your face." + +"I had been very much annoyed yesterday," said Raskolnikoff, +addressing the magistrate, with more or less of insolence in his +smile, "and, wishing to get rid of them, I went out to hire lodgings +where I could be sure of privacy, to effect which I had taken a +certain amount of money. Mr. Zametoff saw what I had by me, and +perhaps he can say whether I was in my right senses yesterday or +whether I was delirious? Perhaps he will judge as to our quarrel." +Nothing would have pleased him better than there and then to have +strangled that gentleman, whose taciturnity and equivocal facial +expression irritated him. + +"In my opinion, you were talking very sensibly and even with +considerable shrewdness; only I thought you too irritable," observed +Zametoff off-handedly. + +"Do let us have some tea! We are as dry as fishes!" exclaimed +Razoumikhin. + +"Good idea! But perhaps you would like something more substantial +before tea, would you?" + +"Look alive, then!" + +Porphyrius Petrovitch went out to order tea. All kinds of thoughts +were at work in Raskolnikoff's brain. He was excited. "They don't even +take pains to dissemble; they certainly don't mince matters as far as +I am concerned: that is something, at all events! Since Porphyrius +knew next to nothing about me, why on earth should he have spoken with +Nicodemus Thomich Zametoff at all? They even scorn to deny that they +are on my track, almost like a pack of hounds! They certainly speak +out plainly enough!" he said, trembling with rage. "Well, do so, as +bluntly as you like, but don't play with me as the cat would with the +mouse! That's not quite civil, Porphyrius Petrovitch; I won't quite +allow that yet! I'll make a stand and tell you some plain truths to +your faces, and then you shall find out my real opinion about you!" He +had some difficulty in breathing. "But supposing that all this is pure +fancy?--a kind of mirage? Suppose I had misunderstood? Let me try and +keep up my nasty part, and not commit myself, like the fool, by blind +anger! Ought I to give them credit for intentions they have not? Their +words are, in themselves, not very extraordinary ones--so much must be +allowed; but a double meaning may lurk beneath them. Why did +Porphyrius, in speaking of the old woman, simply say 'At her place?' +Why did Zametoff observe that I had spoken very sensibly? Why their +peculiar manner?--yes, it is this manner of theirs. How is it possible +that all this cannot have struck Razoumikhin? The booby never notices +anything! But I seem to be feverish again! Did Porphyrius give me a +kind of wink just now, or was I deceived in some way? The idea is +absurd! Why should he wink at me? Perhaps they intend to upset my +nervous organization, and, by so doing, drive me to extremes! Either +the whole thing is a phantasmagoria, or--they know!" + +These thoughts flashed through his mind with the rapidity of +lightning. Porphyrius Petrovitch came back a moment afterwards. He +seemed in a very good temper. "When I left your place yesterday, old +fellow, I was really not well," he commenced, addressing Razoumikhin +with a cheeriness which was only just becoming apparent, "but that is +all gone now." + +"Did you find the evening a pleasant one? I left you in the thick of +the fun; who came off best?" + +"Nobody, of course. They caviled to their heart's content over their +old arguments." + +"Fancy, Rodia, the discussion last evening turned on the question: +'Does crime exist? Yes, or No.' And the nonsense they talked on the +subject!" + +"What is there extraordinary in the query? It is the social question +without the charm of novelty," answered Raskolnikoff abruptly. + +"Talking of crime," said Porphyrius Petrovitch, speaking to +Raskolnikoff, "I remember a production of yours which greatly +interested me. I am speaking about your article _on crime_. I don't +very well remember the title. I was delighted in reading it two months +ago in the _Periodical Word."_ + +"But how do you know the article was mine? I only signed it with an +initial." + +"I discovered it lately, quite by chance. The chief editor is a friend +of mine; it was he who let out the secret of your authorship. The +article has greatly interested me." + +"I was analyzing, if I remember rightly, the psychological condition +of a criminal at the moment of his deed." + +"Yes, and you strove to prove that a criminal, at such a moment, is +always, mentally, more or less unhinged. That point of view is a very +original one, but it was not this part of your article which most +interested me. I was particularly struck by an idea at the end of the +article, and which, unfortunately, you have touched upon too +cursorily. In a word, if you remember, you maintained that there are +men in existence who can, or more accurately, who have an absolute +right to commit all kinds of wicked and criminal acts--men for whom, +to a certain extent, laws do not exist." + +"Is it not very likely that some coming Napoleon did for Alena +Ivanovna last week?" suddenly blustered Zametoff from his corner. + +Without saying a word, Raskolnikoff fixed on Porphyrius a firm and +penetrating glance. Raskolnikoff was beginning to look sullen. He +seemed to have been suspecting something for some time past. He looked +round him with an irritable air. For a moment there was an ominous +silence. Raskolnikoff was getting ready to go. + +"What, are you off already?" asked Porphyrius, kindly offering the +young man his hand with extreme affability. "I am delighted to have +made your acquaintance. And as for your application, don't be uneasy +about it. Write in the way I suggested. Or, perhaps, you had better do +this. Come and see me before long--to-morrow, if you like. I shall be +here without fail at eleven o'clock. We can make everything +right--we'll have a chat--and as you were one of the last that went +_there_, you might be able to give some further particulars?" he +added, with his friendly smile. + +"Do you wish to examine me formally?" Raskolnikoff inquired, in an +uncomfortable tone. + +"Why should I? Such a thing is out of the question. You have +misunderstood me. I ought to tell you that I manage to make the most +of every opportunity. I have already had a chat with every single +person that has been in the habit of pledging things with the old +woman--several have given me very useful information--and as you +happen to be the last one--By the by," he exclaimed, with sudden +pleasure, "how lucky I am thinking about it, I was really going to +forget it!" (Saying which he turned to Razoumikhin.) "You were almost +stunning my ears, the other day, talking about Mikolka. Well, I am +certain, quite certain, as to his innocence," he went on, once more +addressing himself to Raskolnikoff. "But what was to be done? It has +been necessary to disturb Dmitri. Now, what I wanted to ask was: On +going upstairs--was it not between seven and eight you entered the +house?" + +"Yes," replied Raskolnikoff, and he immediately regretted an answer he +ought to have avoided. + +"Well, in going upstairs, between seven and eight, did you not see on +the second floor, in one of the rooms, when the door was wide +open--you remember, I dare say?--did you not see two painters, or, at +all events, one of the two? They were whitewashing the room, I +believe; you must have seen them! The matter is of the utmost +importance to them!" + +"Painters, you say? I saw none," replied Raskolnikoff slowly, trying +to sound his memory: for a moment he violently strained it to +discover, as quickly as he could, the trap concealed by the +magistrate's question. "No, I did not see a single one; I did not even +see any room standing open," he went on, delighted at having +discovered the trap, "but on the fourth floor I remember noticing that +the man lodging on the same landing as Alena Ivanovna was in the act +of moving. I remember that very well, as I met a few soldiers carrying +a sofa, and I was obliged to back against the wall; but, as for +painters, I don't remember seeing a single one--I don't even remember +a room that had its door open. No, I saw nothing." + +"But what are you talking about?" all at once exclaimed Razoumikhin, +who, till that moment, had attentively listened; "it was on the very +day of the murder that painters were busy in that room, while he came +there two days previously! Why are you asking that question?" + +"Right! I have confused the dates!" cried Porphyrius, tapping his +forehead. "Deuce take me! That job makes me lose my head!" he added by +way of excuse, and speaking to Raskolnikoff. "It is very important +that we should know if anybody saw them in that room between seven and +eight. I thought I might have got that information from you without +thinking any more about it. I had positively confused the days!" + +"You ought to be more attentive!" grumbled Razoumikhin. + +These last words were uttered in the anteroom, as Porphyrius very +civilly led his visitors to the door. They were gloomy and morose on +leaving the house, and had gone some distance before speaking. +Raskolnikoff breathed like a man who had just been subjected to a +severe trial. + +When, on the following day, precisely at eleven o'clock, Raskolnikoff +called on the examining magistrate, he was astonished to have to dance +attendance for a considerable time. According to his idea, he ought to +have been admitted immediately; ten minutes, however, elapsed before +he could see Porphyrius Petrovitch. In the outer room where he had +been waiting, people came and went without heeding him in the least. +In the next room, which was a kind of office, a few clerks were at +work, and it was evident that not one of them had even an idea who +Raskolnikoff might be. The young man cast a mistrustful look about +him. "Was there not," thought he, "some spy, some mysterious myrmidon +of the law, ordered to watch him, and, if necessary, to prevent his +escape?" But he noticed nothing of the kind; the clerks were all hard +at work, and the other people paid him no kind of attention. The +visitor began to become reassured. "If," thought he, "this mysterious +personage of yesterday, this specter which had risen from the bowels +of the earth, knew all, and had seen all, would they, I should like to +know, let me stand about like this? Would they not rather have +arrested me, instead of waiting till I should come of my own accord? +Hence this man has either made no kind of revelation as yet about me, +or, more probably, he knows nothing, and has seen nothing (besides how +could he have seen anything?): consequently I have misjudged, and all +that happened yesterday was nothing but an illusion of my diseased +imagination." This explanation, which had offered itself the day +before to his mind, at the time he felt most fearful, he considered a +more likely one. + +Whilst thinking about all this and getting ready for a new struggle, +Raskolnikoff suddenly perceived that he was trembling; he became +indignant at the very thought that it was fear of an interview with +the hateful Porphyrius Petrovitch which led him to do so. The most +terrible thing to him was to find himself once again in presence of +this man. He hated him beyond all expression, and what he dreaded was +lest he might show this hatred. His indignation was so great that it +suddenly stopped this trembling; he therefore prepared himself to +enter with a calm and self-possessed air, promised himself to speak as +little as possible, to be very carefully on the watch in order to +check, above all things, his irascible disposition. In the midst of +these reflections, he was introduced to Porphyrius Petrovitch. The +latter was alone in his office, a room of medium dimensions, +containing a large table, facing a sofa covered with shiny leather, a +bureau, a cupboard standing in a corner, and a few chairs: all this +furniture, provided by the State, was of yellow wood. In the wall, or +rather in the wainscoting of the other end, there was a closed door, +which led one to think that there were other rooms behind it. As soon +as Porphyrius Petrovitch had seen Raskolnikoff enter his office, he +went to close the door which had given him admission, and both stood +facing one another. The magistrate received his visitor to all +appearances in a pleasant and affable manner, and it was only at the +expiration of a few moments that the latter observed the magistrate's +somewhat embarrassed manner--he seemed to have been disturbed in a +more or less clandestine occupation. + +"Good! my respectable friend! Here you are then--in our latitudes!" +commenced Porphyrius, holding out both hands. "Pray, be seated, +_batuchka_! But, perhaps, you don't like being called respectable? +Therefore, _batuchka_, for short! Pray, don't think me familiar. Sit +down here on the sofa." + +Raskolnikoff did so without taking his eyes off the judge. "These +words 'in our latitudes,' these excuses for his familiarity, this +expression 'for short,' what could be the meaning of all this? He held +out his hands to me without shaking mine, withdrawing them before I +could do so," thought Raskolnikoff mistrustfully. Both watched each +other, but no sooner did their eyes meet than they both turned them +aside with the rapidity of a flash of lightning. + +"I have called with this paper--about the---- If you please. Is it +correct, or must another form be drawn up?" "What, what paper? Oh, +yes! Do not put yourself out. It is perfectly correct," answered +Porphyrius somewhat hurriedly, before he had even examined it; then, +after having cast a glance on it, he said, speaking very rapidly: +"Quite right, that is all that is required," and placed the sheet on +the table. A moment later he locked it up in his bureau, chattering +about other things. + +"Yesterday," observed Raskolnikoff, "you had, I fancy, a wish to +examine me formally--with reference to my dealings with--the victim? +At least so it seemed to me!" + +"Why did I say, 'So it seemed?'" reflected the young man all of a +sudden. "After all, what can be the harm of it? Why should I distress +myself about that!" he added, mentally, a moment afterwards. The very +fact of his proximity to Porphyrius, with whom he had scarcely as yet +interchanged a word, had immeasurably increased his mistrust; he +marked this in a moment, and concluded that such a mood was an +exceedingly dangerous one, inasmuch as his agitation, his nervous +irritation, would only increase. "That is bad! very bad! I shall be +saying something thoughtless!" + +"Quite right. But do not put yourself out of the way, there is time, +plenty of time," murmured Petrovitch, who, without apparent design, +kept going to and fro, now approaching the window, now his bureau, to +return a moment afterwards to the table. At times he would avoid +Raskolnikoff's suspicious look, at times again he drew up sharp whilst +looking his visitor straight in the face. The sight of this short +chubby man, whose movements recalled those of a ball rebounding from +wall to wall, was an extremely odd one. "No hurry, no hurry, I assure +you! But you smoke, do you not! Have you any tobacco? Here is a +cigarette!" he went on, offering his visitor a paquitos. "You notice +that I am receiving you here, but my quarters are there behind the +wainscoting. The State provides me with that. I am here as it were on +the wing, because certain alterations are being made in my rooms. +Everything is almost straight now. Do you know that quarters provided +by the State are by no means to be despised?" + +"I believe you," answered Raskolnikoff, looking at him almost +derisively. + +"Not to be despised, by any means," repeated Porphyrius Petrovitch, +whose mind seemed to be preoccupied with something else--"not to be +despised!" he continued in a very loud tone of voice, and drawing +himself up close to Raskolnikoff, whom he stared out of countenance. +The incessant repetition of the statement that quarters provided by +the State were by no means to be despised contrasted singularly, by +its platitude, with the serious, profound, enigmatical look he now +cast on his visitor. + +Raskolnikoff's anger grew in consequence; he could hardly help +returning the magistrate's look with an imprudently scornful glance, +"Is it true?" the latter commenced, with a complacently insolent air, +"is it true that it is a judicial maxim, a maxim resorted to by all +magistrates, to begin an interview about trifling things, or even, +occasionally, about more serious matter, foreign to the main question +however, with a view to embolden, to distract, or even to lull the +suspicion of a person under examination, and then all of a sudden to +crush him with the main question, just as you strike a man a blow +straight between the eyes?" + +"Such a custom, I believe, is religiously observed in your profession, +is it not?" + +"Then you are of opinion that when I spoke to you about quarters +provided by the State, I did so----" Saying which, Porphyrius +Petrovitch blinked, his face assumed for a moment an expression of +roguish gayety, the wrinkles on his brow became smoothed, his small +eyes grew smaller still, his features expanded, and, looking +Raskolnikoff straight in the face, he burst out into a prolonged fit +of nervous laughter, which shook him from head to foot. The young man, +on his part, laughed likewise, with more or less of an effort, +however, at sight of which Porphyrius's hilarity increased to such an +extent that his face grew nearly crimson. At this Raskolnikoff +experienced more or less aversion, which led him to forget all +caution; he ceased laughing, knitting his brows, and, whilst +Porphyrius gave way to his hilarity, which seemed a somewhat feigned +one, he fixed on him a look of hatred. In truth, they were both off +their guard. Porphyrius had, in fact, laughed at his visitor, who had +taken this in bad part; whereas the former seemed to care but little +about Raskolnikoff's displeasure. This circumstance gave the young man +much matter for thought. He fancied that his visit had in no kind of +way discomposed the magistrate; on the contrary, it was Raskolnikoff +who had been caught in a trap, a snare, an ambush of some kind or +other. The mine was, perhaps, already charged, and might burst at any +moment. + +Anxious to get straight to the point, Raskolnikoff rose and took up +his cap. "Porphyrius Petrovitch," he cried, in a resolute tone of +voice, betraying more or less irritation, "yesterday you expressed the +desire to subject me to a judicial examination." (He laid special +stress on this last word.) "I have called at your bidding; if you have +questions to put, do so: if not, allow me to withdraw. I can't afford +to waste my time here, as I have other things to attend to. In a word, +I must go to the funeral of the official who has been run over, and of +whom you have heard speak," he added, regretting, however, the last +part of his sentence. Then, with increasing anger, he went on: "Let me +tell you that all this worries me! The thing is hanging over much too +long. It is that mainly that has made me ill. In one word,"--he +continued, his voice seeming more and more irritable, for he felt that +the remark about his illness was yet more out of place than the +previous one--"in one word, either be good enough to cross-examine me, +or let me go this very moment. If you do question me, do so in the +usual formal way; otherwise, I shall object. In the meanwhile, adieu, +since we have nothing more to do with one another." + +"Good gracious! What can you be talking about? Question you about +what?" replied the magistrate, immediately ceasing his laugh. "Don't, +I beg, disturb yourself." He requested Raskolnikoff to sit down once +more, continuing, nevertheless, his tramp about the room. "There is +time, plenty of time. The matter is not of such importance after all. +On the contrary, I am delighted at your visit--for as such do I take +your call. As for my horrid way of laughing, _batuchka_, Rodion +Romanovitch, I must apologize. I am a nervous man, and the shrewdness +of your observations has tickled me. There are times when I go up and +down like an elastic ball, and that for half an hour at a time. I am +fond of laughter. My temperament leads me to dread apoplexy. But, +pray, do sit down--why remain standing? Do, I must request you, +_batuchka_; otherwise I shall fancy that you are cross." + +His brows still knit, Raskolnikoff held his tongue, listened, and +watched. In the meanwhile he sat down. + +"As far as I am concerned, _batuchka_, Rodion Romanovitch, I will tell +you something which shall reveal to you my disposition," answered +Porphyrius Petrovitch, continuing to fidget about the room, and, as +before, avoiding his visitor's gaze. "I live alone, you must know, +never go into society, and am, therefore, unknown; add to which, that +I am a man on the shady side of forty, somewhat played out. You may +have noticed, Rodion Romanovitch, that here--I mean in Russia, of +course, and especially in St. Petersburg circles--that when two +intelligent men happen to meet who, as yet, are not familiar, but who, +however, have mutual esteem--as, for instance, you and I have at this +moment--don't know what to talk about for half an hour at a time. They +seem, both of them, as if petrified. Everyone else has a subject for +conversation--ladies, for instance, people in society, the upper +ten--all these sets have some topic or other. It is the thing, but +somehow people of the middle-class, like you and I, seem constrained +and taciturn. How does that come about, _batuchka_? Have we no social +interests? Or is it, rather, owing to our being too straightforward to +mislead one another? I don't know. What is your opinion, pray? But do, +I beg, remove your cap; one would really fancy that you wanted to be +off, and that pains me. I, you must know, am so contented." + +Raskolnikoff laid his cap down. He did not, however, become more +loquacious; and, with knit brows, listened to Porphyrius's idle +chatter. "I suppose," thought he, "he only doles out his small talk to +distract my attention." + +"I don't offer you any coffee," went on the inexhaustible Porphyrius, +"because this is not the place for it, but can you not spend a few +minutes with a friend, by way of causing him some little distraction? +You must know that all these professional obligations--don't be vexed, +_batuchka_, if you see me walking about like this, I am sure you will +excuse me, if I tell you how anxious I am not to do so, but movement +is so indispensable to me! I am always seated--and, to me, it is quite +a luxury to be able to move about for a minute or two. I purpose, in +fact, to go through a course of calisthenics. The trapeze is said to +stand in high favor amongst State counselors--counselors in office, +even amongst privy counselors. Nowadays, in fact, gymnastics have +become a positive science. As for these duties of our office, these +examinations, all this formality--you yourself, you will remember, +touched upon the topic just now, _batuchka_--these examinations, and +so forth, sometimes perplex the magistrate much more than the man +under suspicion. You said as much just now with as much sense as +accuracy." (Raskolnikoff had made no statement of the kind.) "One gets +confused, one loses the thread of the investigation. Yet, as far as +our judicial customs go, I agree with you fully. Where, for instance, +is there a man under suspicion of some kind or other, were it even the +most thick-headed moujik, who does not know that the magistrate will +commence by putting all sorts of out-of-the-way questions to take him +off the scent (if I may be allowed to use your happy simile), and that +then he suddenly gives him one between the eyes? A blow of the ax on +his sinciput (if again I may be permitted to use your ingenious +metaphor)? Hah, hah! And do you mean to say that when I spoke to you +about quarters provided by the State, that--hah, hah! You are very +caustic. But I won't revert to that again. By-and-by!--one remark +produces another, one thought attracts another--but you were talking +just now of the practice or form in vogue with the examining +magistrate. But what is this form? You know as I do that in many cases +the form means nothing at all. Occasionally a simple conversation, a +friendly interview, brings about a more certain result. The practice +or form will never die out--I can vouch for that; but what, after all, +is the form, I ask once more? You can't compel an examining magistrate +to be hampered or bound by it everlastingly. His duty or method is, in +its way, one of the liberal professions or something very much like +it." + +Porphyrius Petrovitch stopped a moment to take breath. He kept on +talking, now uttering pure nonsense, now again introducing, in spite +of this trash, an occasional enigmatical remark, after which he went +on with his insipidities. His tramp about the room was more like a +race--he moved his stout legs more and more quickly, without looking +up; his right hand was thrust deep in the pocket of his coat, whilst +with the left he unceasingly gesticulated in a way unconnected with +his observations. Raskolnikoff noticed, or fancied he noticed, that, +whilst running round and round the room, he had twice stopped near the +door, seeming to listen. "Does he expect something?" he asked himself. + +"You're perfectly right," resumed Porphyrius cheerily, whilst looking +at the young man with a kindliness which immediately awoke the +latter's distrust. "Our judicial customs deserve your satire. Our +proceedings, which are supposed to be inspired by a profound knowledge +of psychology, are very ridiculous ones, and very often useless. Now, +to return to our method or form: Suppose for a moment that I am +deputed to investigate something or other, and that I know the guilty +person to be a certain gentleman. Are you not yourself reading for the +law, Rodion Romanovitch?" + +"I was some time ago." + +"Well, here is a kind of example which may be of use to you later on. +Don't run away with the idea that I am setting up as your +instructor--God forbid that I should presume to teach anything to a +man who treats criminal questions in the public press! Oh, no!--all I +am doing is to quote to you, by way of example, a trifling fact. +Suppose that I fancy I am convinced of the guilt of a certain man, +why, I ask you, should I frighten him prematurely, assuming me to have +every evidence against him? Of course, in the case of another man of a +different disposition, him I would have arrested forthwith; but, as to +the former, why should I not permit him to hang about a little longer? +I see you do not quite take me. I will, therefore, endeavor to explain +myself more clearly! If, for instance, I should be too quick in +issuing a writ, I provide him in doing so with a species of moral +support or mainstay--I see you are laughing?" (Raskolnikoff, on the +contrary, had no such desire; his lips were set, and his glaring look +was not removed from Porphyrius's eyes.) "I assure you that in actual +practice such is really the case; men vary much, although, +unfortunately, our methods are the same for all. But you will ask me: +Supposing you are certain of your proofs? Goodness me, _batuchka_! you +know, perhaps as well as I do, what proofs are--half one's time, +proofs may be taken either way; and I, a magistrate, am, after all, +only a man liable to error. + +"Now, what I want is to give to my investigation the precision of a +mathematical demonstration--I want my conclusions to be as plain, as +indisputable, as that twice two are four. Now, supposing I have this +gentleman arrested prematurely, though I may be positively certain +that he is _the man,_ yet I deprive myself of all future means of +proving his guilt. How is that? Because, so to say, I give him, to a +certain extent, a definite status; for, by putting him in prison, I +pacify him. I give him the chance of investigating his actual state of +mind--he will escape me, for he will reflect. In a word, he knows that +he is a prisoner, and nothing more. If, on the contrary, I take no +kind of notice of the man I fancy guilty, if I do not have him +arrested, if I in no way set him on his guard--but if the unfortunate +creature is hourly, momentarily, possessed by the suspicion that I +know all, that I do not lose sight of him either by night or by day, +that he is the object of my indefatigable vigilance--what do you ask +will take place under these circumstances? He will lose his +self-possession, he will come of his own accord to me, he will provide +me with ample evidence against himself, and will enable me to give to +the conclusion of my inquiry the accuracy of mathematical proofs, +which is not without its charm. + +"If such a course succeeds with an uncultured moujik, it is equally +efficacious when it concerns an enlightened, intelligent, or even +distinguished man. For the main thing, my dear friend, is to determine +in what sense a man is developed. The man, I mean, is intelligent, but +he has nerves which are _over_-strung. And as for bile--the bile you +are forgetting, that plays no small part with similar folk! Believe +me, here we have a very mine of information! And what is it to me +whether such a man walk about the place in perfect liberty? Let him be +at ease--I know him to be my prey, and that he won't escape me! Where, +I ask you, could he go to? You may say abroad. A Pole may do so--but +my man, never! especially as I watch him, and have taken steps in +consequence. Is he likely to escape into the very heart of our +country? Not he! for there dwell coarse moujiks, and primitive +Russians, without any kind of civilization. My educated friend would +prefer going to prison, rather than be in the midst of such +surroundings. Besides, what I have been saying up to the present is +not the main point--it is the exterior and accessory aspect of the +question. He won't escape--not only because he won't know where to go +to, but especially, and above all, because he is mine from the +_psychological_ point of view. What do you think of this explanation? +In virtue of a natural law, he will not escape, even if he could do +so! Have you ever seen a butterfly close to the candle? My man will +hover incessantly round me in the same way as the butterfly gyrates +round the candle-light. Liberty will have no longer charms for him; he +will grow more and more restless, more and more amazed--let me but +give him plenty of time, and he will demean himself in a way to prove +his guilt as plainly as that twice two our four! Yes, he will keep +hovering about me, describing circles, smaller and smaller, till at +last--bang! He has flown into my clutches, and I have got him. That is +very nice. You don't think so, perhaps?" + +Raskolnikoff kept silent. Pale and immovable, he continued to watch +Porphyrius's face with a labored effort of attention. "The lesson is a +good one!" he reflected. "But it is not, as yesterday, a case of the +cat playing with the mouse. Of course, he does not talk to me in this +way for the mere pleasure of showing me his hand; he is much too +intelligent for that. He must have something else in view--what can it +be? Come, friend, what you do say is only to frighten me. You have no +kind of evidence, and the man of yesterday does not exist! All you +wish is to perplex me--to enrage me, so as to enable you to make your +last move, should you catch me in such a mood, but you will not; all +your pains will be in vain! But why should he speak in such covert +terms? I presume he must be speculating on the excitability of my +nervous system. But, dear friend, that won't go down, in spite of your +machinations. We will try and find out what you really have been +driving at." + +And he prepared to brave boldly the terrible catastrophe he +anticipated. Occasionally the desire came upon him to rush on +Porphyrius, and to strangle him there and then. From the first moment +of having entered the magistrate's office what he had dreaded most +was, lest he might lose his temper. He felt his heart beating +violently, his lips become parched, his spittle congealed. He +resolved, however, to hold his tongue, knowing that, under the +circumstances, such would be the best tactics. By similar means, he +felt sure that he would not only not become compromised, but that he +might succeed in exasperating his enemy, in order to let him drop some +imprudent observation. This, at all events, was Raskolnikoff's hope. + +"I see you don't believe, you think I am jesting," continued +Porphyrius, more and more at his ease, without ceasing to indulge in +his little laugh, whilst continuing his perambulation about the room. +"You may be right. God has given me a face which only arouses comical +thoughts in others. I'm a buffoon. But excuse an old man's cackle. +You, Rodion Romanovitch, you are in your prime, and, like all young +people, you appreciate, above all things, human intelligence. +Intellectual smartness and abstract rational deductions entice you. +But, to return to the _special case_ we were talking about just now. I +must tell you that we have to deal with reality, with nature. This is +a very important thing, and how admirably does she often foil the +highest skill! Listen to an old man; I am speaking quite seriously, +Rodion"--(on saying which Porphyrius Petrovitch, who was hardly +thirty-five years of age, seemed all of a sudden to have aged, a +sudden metamorphosis had taken place in the whole of his person, nay, +in his very voice)--"to an old man who, however, is not wanting in +candor. Am I or am I not candid? What do you think? It seems to me +that a man could hardly be more so--for do I not reveal confidence, +and that without the prospect of reward? But, to continue, acuteness +of mind is, in my opinion, a very fine thing; it is to all intents and +purposes an ornament of nature, one of the consolations of life by +means of which it would appear a poor magistrate can be easily gulled, +who, after all, is often misled by his own imagination, for he is only +human. But nature comes to the aid of this human magistrate! There's +the rub! And youth, so confident in its own intelligence, youth which +tramples under foot every obstacle, forgets this! + +"Now, in the _special case_ under consideration, the guilty man, I +will assume, lies hard and fast, but, when he fancies that all that is +left him will be to reap the reward of his mendacity, behold, he will +succumb in the very place where such an accident is likely to be most +closely analyzed. Assuming even that he may be in a position to +account for his syncope by illness or the stifling atmosphere of the +locality, he has none the less given rise to suspicion! He has lied +incomparably, but he has counted without nature. Here is the pitfall! +Again, a man off his guard, from an unwary disposition, may delight in +mystifying another who suspects him, and may wantonly pretend to be +the very criminal wanted by the authorities; in such a case, he will +represent the person in question a little too closely, he will place +his foot a little too naturally. Here we have another token. For the +nonce his interlocutor may be duped; but, being no fool, he will on +the morrow have seen through the subterfuge. Then will our friend +become compromised more and more! He will come of his own accord when +he is not even called, he will use all kinds of impudent words, +remarks, allegories, the meaning of which will be clear to everybody; +he will even go so far as to come and ask why he has not been arrested +as yet--hah! hah! And such a line of conduct may occur to a person of +keen intellect, yes, even to a man of psychologic mind! Nature, my +friend, is the most transparent of mirrors. To contemplate her is +sufficient. But why do you grow pale, Rodion Romanovitch? Perhaps you +are too hot; shall I open the window?" + +"By no means, I beg!" cried Raskolnikoff, bursting out laughing. +"Don't heed me, pray!" Porphyrius stopped short, waited a moment, and +burst out laughing himself. Raskolnikoff, whose hilarity had suddenly +died out, rose. "Porphyrius Petrovitch," he shouted in a clear and +loud voice, although he could scarcely stand on his trembling legs, "I +can no longer doubt that you suspect me of having assassinated this +old woman as well as her sister, Elizabeth. Let me tell you that for +some time I have had enough of this. If you think you have the right +to hunt me down, to have me arrested, hunt me down, have me arrested. +But you shall not trifle with me, you shall not torture me." Suddenly +his lips quivered, his eyes gleamed, and his voice, which up to that +moment had been self-possessed, reached its highest diapason. "I will +not permit it," he yelled hoarsely, whilst striking a violent blow on +the table. "Do you hear me, Porphyrius Petrovitch, I shall not permit +this!" + +"But, goodness gracious! what on earth is wrong with you?" asked the +magistrate, disturbed to all appearances. "_Batuchka_! Rodion +Romanovitch! My good friend! What on earth is the matter with you?" + +"I will not permit it!" repeated Raskolnikoff once again. + +"_Batuchka!_ not so loud, I must request! Someone will hear you, +someone may come; and then, what shall we say? Just reflect one +moment!" murmured Porphyrius Petrovitch, whose face had approached +that of his visitor. + +"I will not permit it, I will not permit it!" mechanically pursued +Raskolnikoff, but in a minor key, so as to be heard by Porphyrius +only. + +The latter moved away to open the window. "Let us air the room! +Supposing you were to drink some water, dear friend? You have had a +slight fit!" He was on the point of going to the door to give his +orders to a servant, when he saw a water bottle in a corner. "Drink, +_batuchka_!" he murmured, whilst approaching the young man with the +bottle, "that may do you some good." + +Porphyrius's fright seemed so natural that Raskolnikoff remained +silent whilst examining him with curiosity. He refused, however, the +proffered water. + +"Rodion Romanovitch! My dear friend! If you go on in this way, you +will go mad, I am positive! Drink, pray, if only a few drops!" He +almost forced the glass of water into his hand. Raskolnikoff raised it +mechanically to his lips, when suddenly he thought better of it, and +replaced it on the table with disgust. "Yes, yes, you have had a +slight fit. One or two more, my friend, and you will have another +attack of your malady," observed the magistrate in the kindest tone of +voice, appearing greatly agitated. "Is it possible that people can +take so little care of themselves? It was the same with Dmitri +Prokofitch, who called here yesterday. I admit mine to be a caustic +temperament, that mine is a horrid disposition, but that such a +meaning could possibly be attributed to harmless remarks. He called +here yesterday, when you had gone, and in the course of dinner he +talked, talked. You had sent him, had you not? But do sit down, +_batuchka!_ do sit down, for heaven's sake!" + +"I did not indeed!--although I knew that he had called, and his object +in doing so!" replied Raskolnikoff dryly. + +"Did you really know why?" + +"I did. And what did you gather from it?" + +"I gathered from it, _batuchka!_ Rodion Romanovitch, the knowledge of +a good many of your doings--in fact, I know all! I know that you went, +towards nightfall, _to hire the lodgings._ I know that you pulled the +bell, and that a question of yours in connection with bloodstains, as +well as your manner, frightened both journeymen and dvorniks. I know +what was your mood at the time. Excitement of such a kind will drive +you out of your mind, be assured. A praiseworthy indignation is at +work within you, complaining now as to destiny, now on the subject of +police agents. You keep going here and there to induce people as far +as possible to formulate their accusations. This stupid kind of +tittle-tattle is hateful to you, and you are anxious to put a stop to +it as soon as possible. Am I right? Have I laid finger on the +sentiments which actuate you? But you are not satisfied by turning +your own brain, you want to do, or rather do, the same thing to my +good Razoumikhin. Really, it is a pity to upset so good a fellow! His +kindness exposes him more than anyone else to suffer contagion from +your own malady. But you shall know all as soon as you shall be +calmer. Pray, therefore, once again sit down, _batuchka_! Try and +recover your spirits--you seem quite unhinged." + +Raskolnikoff rose while looking at him with an air full of contempt. +"Tell me once for all," asked the latter, "tell me one way or other, +whether I am in your opinion an object for suspicion? Speak up, +Porphyrius Petrovitch, and explain yourself without any more beating +about the bush, and that forthwith!" + +"Just one word, Rodion Romanovitch. This affair will end as God knows +best; but still, by way of form, I may have to ask you a few more +questions. Hence we are certain to meet again!" And with a smile +Porphyrius stopped before the young man. "Certain!" he repeated. One +might have fancied that he wished to say something more. But he did +not do so. + +"Forgive my strange manner just now, Porphyrius Petrovitch, I was +hasty," began Raskolnikoff, who had regained all his self-possession, +and who even experienced an irresistible wish to chaff the magistrate. + +"Don't say any more, it was nothing," replied Porphyrius in almost +joyful tone. "Till we meet again!" + +"Till we meet again!" + +The young man forthwith went home. Having got there, he threw himself +on his couch, and for a quarter of an hour he tried to arrange his +ideas somewhat, inasmuch as they were very confused. + +Within a few days Raskolnikoff convinced himself that Porphyrius +Petrovitch had no real proofs. Deciding to go out, in search of fresh +air, he took up his cap and made for the door, deep in thought. For +the first time he felt in the best of health, really well. He opened +the door, and encountered Porphyrius face to face. The latter entered. + +Raskolnikoff staggered for a moment, but quickly recovered. The visit +did not dismay him. "Perhaps this is the finale, but why does he come +upon me like a cat, with muffled tread? Can he have been listening?" + +"I have been thinking for a long time of calling on you, and, as I was +passing, I thought I might drop in for a few minutes. Where are you +off to? I won't detain you long, only the time to smoke a cigarette, +if you will allow me?" + +"Be seated, Porphyrius Petrovitch, be seated," said Raskolnikoff to +his guest, assuming such an air of friendship that he himself could +have been astonished at his own affability. Thus the victim, in fear +and trembling for his life, at last does not feel the knife at his +throat. He seated himself in front of Porphyrius, and gazed upon him +without flinching. Porphyrius blinked a little, and commenced rolling +his cigarette. + +"Speak! speak!" Raskolnikoff mutely cried in his heart. "What are you +going to say?" + +"Oh, these cigarettes!" Porphyrius Petrovitch commenced at last, +"they'll be the death of me, and yet I can't give them up! I am always +coughing--a tickling in the throat is setting in, and I am +asthmatical. I have been to consult Botkine of late; he examines every +one of his patients at least half an hour at a time. After having +thumped and bumped me about for ever so long, he told me, amongst +other things: 'Tobacco is a bad thing for you--your lungs are +affected.' That's all very well, but how am I to go without my +tobacco? What am I to use as a substitute? Unfortunately, I can't +drink, hah! hah! Everything is relative, I suppose, Rodion +Romanovitch?" + +"There, he is beginning with some more of his silly palaver!" +Raskolnikoff growled to himself. His late interview with the +magistrate suddenly occurred to him, at which anger affected his mind. + +"Did you know, by-the-by, that I called on you the night before last?" +continued Porphyrius, looking about. "I was in this very room. I +happened to be coming this way, just as I am going to-day, and the +idea struck me to drop in. Your door was open--I entered, hoping to +see you in a few minutes, but went away again without leaving my name +with your servant. Do you never shut your place?" + +Raskolnikoff's face grew gloomier and gloomier. Porphyrius Petrovitch +evidently guessed what the latter was thinking about. + +"You did not expect visitors, Rodion Romanovitch?" said Porphyrius, +smiling graciously. + +"I have called just to clear things up a bit. I owe you an +explanation," he went on, smiling and gently slapping the young man on +the knee; but almost at the self-same moment his face assumed a +serious and even sad expression, to Raskolnikoff's great astonishment, +to whom the magistrate appeared in quite a different light. "At our +last interview, an unusual scene took place between us, Rodion. I +somehow feel that I did not behave very well to you. You remember, I +dare say, how we parted; we were both more or less excited. I fear we +were wanting in the most common courtesy, and yet we are both of us +gentlemen." + +"What can he be driving at now?" Raskolnikoff asked himself, looking +inquiringly at Porphyrius. + +"I have come to the conclusion that it would be much better for us to +be more candid to one another," continued the magistrate, turning his +head gently aside and looking on the ground, as if he feared to annoy +his former victim by his survey. "We must not have scenes of that kind +again. If Mikolka had not turned up on that occasion, I really do not +know how things would have ended. You are naturally, my dear Rodion, +very irritable, and I must own that I had taken that into +consideration, for, when driven in a corner, many a man lets out his +secrets. 'If,' I said to myself, 'I could only squeeze some kind of +evidence out of him, however trivial, provided it were real, tangible, +and palpable, different from all my psychological inferences!' That +was my idea. Sometimes we succeed by some such proceeding, but +unfortunately that does not happen every day, as I conclusively +discovered on the occasion in question, I had relied too much on your +character." + +"But why tell me all this now?" stammered Raskolnikoff, without in any +way understanding the object of his interlocutor's question. "Does he, +perhaps, think me really innocent?" + +"You wish to know why I tell you this? Because I look upon it as a +sacred duty to explain my line of action. Because I subjected you, as +I now fully acknowledge, to cruel torture. I do not wish, my dear +Rodion, that you should take me for an ogre. Hence, by way of +justification, I purpose explaining to you what led up to it. I think +it needless to account for the nature and origin of the reports which +circulated originally, as also why you were connected with them. There +was, however, one circumstance, a purely fortuitous one, and which +need not now be mentioned, which aroused my suspicions. From these +reports and accidental circumstances, the same conclusion became +evolved for me. I make this statement in all sincerity, for it was I +who first implicated you with the matter. I do not in any way notice +the particulars notified on the articles found at the old woman's. +That, and several others of a similar nature, are of no kind of +importance. At the same time, I was aware of the incident which had +happened at the police office. What occurred there has been told me +with the utmost accuracy by some one who had been closely connected +with it, and who, most unwittingly, had brought things to a head. Very +well, then, how, under such circumstances, could a man help becoming +biased? 'One swallow does not make a summer,' as the English proverb +says: a hundred suppositions do not constitute one single proof. +Reason speaks in that way, I admit, but let a man try to subject +prejudice to reason. An examining magistrate, after all, is only a +man--hence given to prejudice. + +"I also remembered, on the occasion in question, the article you had +published in some review. That virgin effort of yours, I assure you, I +greatly enjoyed--as an amateur, however, be it understood. It was +redolent of sincere conviction, of genuine enthusiasm. The article was +evidently written some sleepless night under feverish conditions. That +author, I said to myself, while reading it, will do better things than +that. How now, I ask you, could I avoid connecting that with what +followed upon it? Such a tendency was but a natural one. Am I saying +anything I should not? Am I at this moment committing myself to any +definite statement? I do no more than give utterance to a thought +which struck me at the time. What may I be thinking about now? +Nothing--or, at all events, what is tantamount to it. For the time +being, I have to deal with Mikolka; there are facts which implicate +him--what are facts, after all? If I tell you all this now, as I am +doing, I do so, I assure you, most emphatically, so that your mind and +conscience may absolve me from my behavior on the day of our +interview. 'Why,' you will ask, 'did you not come on that occasion and +have my place searched?' I did so, hah! hah! I went when you were ill +in bed--but, let me tell you, not officially, not in my magisterial +capacity; but go I did. We had your rooms turned topsy-turvy at our +very first suspicions, but _umsonst_! Then I said to myself: 'That man +will make me a call, he will come of his own accord, and that before +very long! If he is guilty, he will be bound to come. Other kinds of +men would not do so, but this one will.' + +"And you remember, of course, Mr. Razoumikhin's chattering? We had +purposely informed him of some of our suspicions, hoping that he might +make you uneasy, for we knew perfectly well that Razoumikhin would not +be able to contain his indignation. Zametoff, in particular, had been +struck by your boldness, and it certainly was a bold thing for a +person to exclaim all of a sudden in an open _traktir_: 'I am an +assassin!' That was really too much of a good thing. Well, I waited +for you with trusting patience, and, lo and behold, Providence sends +you! How my heart did beat when I saw you coming! Now, I ask you, +where was the need of your coming at that time at all? If you +remember, you came in laughing immoderately. That laughter gave me +food for thought, but, had I not been very prejudiced at the time, I +should have taken no notice of it. And as for Mr. Razoumikhin on that +occasion--ah! the stone, the stone, you will remember, under which the +stolen things are hidden? I fancy I can see it from here; it is +somewhere in a kitchen garden--it was a kitchen garden you mentioned +to Zametoff, was it not? And then, when your article was broached, we +fancied we discovered a latent thought beneath every word you uttered. +That was the way, Rodion Romanovitch, that my conviction grew little +by little. 'And yet,' said I to myself, 'all that may be explained in +quite a different way, and perhaps more rationally. After all, a real +proof, however slight, would be far more valuable.' But, when I heard +all about the bell-ringing, my doubts vanished; I fancied I had the +indispensable proof, and did not seem to care for further +investigation. + +"We are face to face with a weird and gloomy case--a case of a +contemporary character, if I may say so--a case possessing, in the +fullest sense of the word, the hallmark of time, and circumstances +pointing to a person and life of different surroundings. The real +culprit is a theorist, a bookworm, who, in a tentative kind of way, +has done a more than bold thing; but this boldness of his is of quite +a peculiar and one-sided stamp; it is, after a fashion, like that of a +man who hurls himself from the top of a mountain or church steeple. +The man in question has forgotten to cut off evidence, and, in order +to work out a theory, has killed two persons. He has committed a +murder, and yet has not known how to take possession of the pelf; what +he has taken he has hidden under a stone. The anguish he experienced +while hearing knocking at the door and the continued ringing of the +bell, was not enough for him; no, yielding to an irresistible desire +of experiencing the same horror, he has positively revisited the empty +place and once more pulled the bell. Let us, if you like, attribute +the whole of this to disease--to a semidelirious condition--by all +means; but there is yet another point to be considered: he has +committed a murder, and yet continues to look upon himself as a +righteous man!" + +Raskolnikoff trembled in every limb. "Then, who--who is it--that has +committed the murder?" he stammered forth, in jerky accents. + +The examining magistrate sank back in his chair as though astonished +at such a question. "Who committed the murder?" he retorted, as if he +could not believe his own ears. "Why, you--you did, Rodion +Romanovitch! You!--" he added, almost in a whisper, and in a tone of +profound conviction. + +Raskolnikoff suddenly rose, waited for a few moments, and sat down +again, without uttering a single word. All the muscles of his face +were slightly convulsed. + +"Why, I see your lips tremble just as they did the other day," +observed Porphyrius Petrovitch, with an air of interest. "You have +not, I think, thoroughly realized the object of my visit, Rodion +Romanovitch," he pursued, after a moment's silence, "hence your great +astonishment. I have called with the express intention of plain +speaking, and to reveal the truth." + +"It was not I who committed the murder," stammered the young man, +defending himself very much like a child caught in the act of doing +wrong. + +"Yes, yes, it was you, Rodion Romanovitch, it was you, and you alone," +replied the magistrate with severity. "Confess or not, as you think +best; for the time being, that is nothing to me. In either case, my +conviction is arrived at." + +"If that is so, why have you called?" asked Raskolnikoff angrily. "I +once more repeat the question I have put you: If you think me guilty, +why not issue a warrant against me?" + +"What a question! But I will answer you categorically. To begin with, +your arrest would not benefit me!" + +"It would not benefit you? How can that be? From the moment of being +convinced, you ought to----" + +"What is the use of my conviction, after all? For the time being, it +is only built on sand. And why should I have you placed _at rest?_ Of +course, I purpose having you arrested--I have called to give you a +hint to that effect--and yet I do not hesitate to tell you that I +shall gain nothing by it. Considering, therefore, the interest I feel +for you, I earnestly urge you to go and acknowledge your crime. I +called before to give the same advice. It is by far the wisest thing +you can do--for you as well as for myself, who will then wash my hands +of the affair. Now, am I candid enough?" + +Raskolnikoff considered a moment. "Listen to me, Porphyrius +Petrovitch! To use your own statement, you have against me nothing but +psychological sentiments, and yet you aspire to mathematical evidence. +Who has told you that you are absolutely right?" + +"Yes, Rodion Romanovitch, I am absolutely right. I hold a proof! And +this proof I came in possession of the other day: God has sent it me!" + +"What is it?" + +"I shall not tell you, Rodion Romanovitch. But I have no right to +procrastinate. I am going to have you arrested! Judge, therefore: +whatever you purpose doing is not of much importance to me just now; +all I say and have said has been solely done for your interest. The +best alternative is the one I suggest, you may depend on it, Rodion +Romanovitch! When I shall have had you arrested--at the expiration of +a month or two, or even three, if you like--you will remember my +words, and you will confess. You will be led to do so insensibly, +almost without being conscious of it. I am even of opinion that, after +careful consideration, you will make up your mind to make atonement. +You do not believe me at this moment, but wait and see. In truth, +Rodion Romanovitch, suffering is a grand thing. In the mouth of a +coarse man, who deprives himself of nothing, such a statement might +afford food for laughter. Never mind, however, but there lies a theory +in suffering. Mikolka is right. You won't escape, Rodion Romanovitch." + +Raskolnikoff rose and took his cap. Porphyrius Petrovitch did the +same. "Are you going for a walk? The night will be a fine one, as long +as we get no storm. That would be all the better though, as it would +clear the air." + +"Porphyrius Petrovitch," said the young man, in curt and hurried +accents, "do not run away with the idea that I have been making a +confession to-day. You are a strange man, and I have listened to you +from pure curiosity. But remember, I have confessed to nothing. Pray +do not forget that." + +"I shall not forget it, you may depend---- How he is trembling! Don't +be uneasy, my friend--I shall not forget your advice. Take a little +stroll, only do not go beyond certain limits. I must, however, at all +costs," he added with lowered voice, "ask a small favor of you; it is +a delicate one, but has an importance of its own; assuming, although I +would view such a contingency as an improbable one--assuming, during +the next forty-eight hours, the fancy were to come upon you to put an +end to your life (excuse me my foolish supposition), would you mind +leaving behind you something in the shape of a note--a line or +so--pointing to the spot where the stone is?--that would be very +considerate. Well, _au revoir_! May God send you good thoughts!" + +Porphyrius withdrew, avoiding Raskolnikoff's eye. The latter +approached the window, and impatiently waited till, according to his +calculation, the magistrate should be some distance from the house. He +then passed out himself in great haste. + +A few days later, the prophecy of Porphyrius Petrovitch was fulfilled. +Driven by the torment of uncertainty and doubt, Raskolnikoff made up +his mind to confess his crime. Hastening through the streets, and +stumbling up the narrow stairway, he presented himself at the police +office. + +With pale lips and fixed gaze, Raskolnikoff slowly advanced toward +Elia Petrovitch. Resting his head upon the table behind which the +lieutenant was seated, he wished to speak, but could only give vent to +a few unintelligible sounds. + +"You are in pain, a chair! Pray sit down! Some water!" + +Raskolnikoff allowed himself to sink on the chair that was offered +him, but he could not take his eyes off Elia Petrovitch, whose face +expressed a very unpleasant surprise. For a moment both men looked at +one another in silence. Water was brought! + +"It was I--" commenced Raskolnikoff. + +"Drink." + +With a movement of his hand the young man pushed aside the glass which +was offered him; then, in a low-toned but distinct voice he made, with +several interruptions, the following statement:-- + +"_It was I who killed, with a hatchet, the old moneylender and her +sister, Elizabeth, and robbery was my motive_." + +Elia Petrovitch called for assistance. People rushed in from various +directions. Raskolnikoff repeated his confession. + +FOOTNOTES TO _CRIME & PUNISHMENT_: + +[1]: (At the risk of shocking the reader, it has been decided that the +real permanent detective stories of the world were ill represented +without Dostoyevsky's terrible tale of what might be called +"self-detection." If to sensitive readers the story seems so real as +to be hideous, it is well to recall that Dostoyevsky in 1849 +under-went the agony of sentence to death as a revolutionist. Although +the sentence was commuted to hard labor in Siberia, and although six +years later he was freed and again took up his writing, his mind never +rose from beneath the weight of horror and hopelessness that hangs +over offenders against the Great White Czar. Dostoyevsky, sentenced as +a criminal, herded with criminals, really _became_ a criminal in +literary imagination. Add to this a minute observation, a marvelous +memory, ardent political convictions--and we can understand why the +story here, with others of his, is taken as a scientific text by +criminologists.--EDITOR.) + +[2]: 1,000 yards. + +[3]: Janitors. + +[4]: little father + +[5]: Cabbage soup. + + + +ANTON CHEKHOFF + + +_THE SAFETY MATCH_ + + +On the morning of October 6, 1885, in the office of the Inspector of +Police of the second division of S---- District, there appeared a +respectably dressed young man, who announced that his master, Marcus +Ivanovitch Klausoff, a retired officer of the Horse Guards, separated +from his wife, had been murdered. While making this announcement the +young man was white and terribly agitated. His hands trembled and his +eyes were full of terror. + +"Whom have I the honor of addressing?" asked the inspector. + +"Psyekoff, Lieutenant Klausoff's agent; agriculturist and +mechanician!" + +The inspector and his deputy, on visiting the scene of the occurrence +in company with Psyekoff, found the following: Near the wing in which +Klausoff had lived was gathered a dense crowd. The news of the murder +had sped swift as lightning through the neighborhood, and the +peasantry, thanks to the fact that the day was a holiday, had hurried +together from all the neighboring villages. There was much commotion +and talk. Here and there, pale, tear-stained faces were seen. The door +of Klausoff's bedroom was found locked. The key was inside. + +"It is quite clear that the scoundrels got in by the window!" said +Psyekoff as they examined the door. + +They went to the garden, into which the bedroom window opened. The +window looked dark and ominous. It was covered by a faded green +curtain. One corner of the curtain was slightly turned up, which made +it possible to look into the bedroom. + +"Did any of you look into the window?" asked the inspector. + +"Certainly not, your worship!" answered Ephraim, the gardener, a +little gray-haired old man, who looked like a retired sergeant. "Who's +going to look in, if all their bones are shaking?" + +"Ah, Marcus Ivanovitch, Marcus Ivanovitch!" sighed the inspector, +looking at the window, "I told you you would come to a bad end! I told +the dear man, but he wouldn't listen! Dissipation doesn't bring any +good!" + +"Thanks to Ephraim," said Psyekoff; "but for him, we would never have +guessed. He was the first to guess that something was wrong. He comes +to me this morning, and says: 'Why is the master so long getting up? +He hasn't left his bedroom for a whole week!' The moment he said that, +it was just as if some one had hit me with an ax. The thought flashed +through my mind, 'We haven't had a sight of him since last Saturday, +and to-day is Sunday'! Seven whole days--not a doubt of it!" + +"Ay, poor fellow!" again sighed the inspector. "He was a clever +fellow, finely educated, and kind-hearted at that! And in society, +nobody could touch him! But he was a waster, God rest his soul! I was +prepared for anything since he refused to live with Olga Petrovna. +Poor thing, a good wife, but a sharp tongue! Stephen!" the inspector +called to one of his deputies, "go over to my house this minute, and +send Andrew to the captain to lodge an information with him! Tell him +that Marcus Ivanovitch has been murdered. And run over to the orderly; +why should he sit there, kicking his heels? Let him come here! And go +as fast as you can to the examining magistrate, Nicholas +Yermolayevitch. Tell him to come over here! Wait; I'll write him a +note!" + +The inspector posted sentinels around the wing, wrote a letter to the +examining magistrate, and then went over to the director's for a glass +of tea. Ten minutes later he was sitting on a stool, carefully +nibbling a lump of sugar, and swallowing the scalding tea. + +"There you are!" he was saying to Psyekoff; "there you are! A noble by +birth! a rich man--a favorite of the gods, you may say, as Pushkin has +it, and what did he come to? He drank and dissipated and--there you +are--he's murdered." + +After a couple of hours the examining magistrate drove up. Nicholas +Yermolayevitch Chubikoff--for that was the magistrate's name--was a +tall, fleshy old man of sixty, who had been wrestling with the duties +of his office for a quarter of a century. Everybody in the district +knew him as an honest man, wise, energetic, and in love with his work. +He was accompanied to the scene of the murder by his inveterate +companion, fellow worker, and secretary, Dukovski, a tall young fellow +of twenty-six. + +"Is it possible, gentlemen?" cried Chubikoff, entering Psyekoff's +room, and quickly shaking hands with everyone. "Is it possible? Marcus +Ivanovitch? Murdered? No! It is impossible! Im-poss-i-ble!" + +"Go in there!" sighed the inspector. + +"Lord, have mercy on us! Only last Friday I saw him at the fair in +Farabankoff. I had a drink of vodka with him, save the mark!" + +"Go in there!" again sighed the inspector. + +They sighed, uttered exclamations of horror, drank a glass of tea +each, and went to the wing. + +"Get back!" the orderly cried to the peasants. + +Going to the wing, the examining magistrate began his work by +examining the bedroom door. The door proved to be of pine, painted +yellow, and was uninjured. Nothing was found which could serve as a +clew. They had to break in the door. + +"Everyone not here on business is requested to keep away!" said the +magistrate, when, after much hammering and shaking, the door yielded +to ax and chisel. "I request this, in the interest of the +investigation. Orderly, don't let anyone in!" + +Chubikoff, his assistant, and the inspector opened the door, and +hesitatingly, one after the other, entered the room. Their eyes met +the following sight: Beside the single window stood the big wooden bed +with a huge feather mattress. On the crumpled feather bed lay a +tumbled, crumpled quilt. The pillow, in a cotton pillow-case, also +much crumpled, was dragging on the floor. On the table beside the bed +lay a silver watch and a silver twenty-kopeck piece. Beside them lay +some sulphur matches. Beside the bed, the little table, and the single +chair, there was no furniture in the room. Looking under the bed, the +inspector saw a couple of dozen empty bottles, an old straw hat, and a +quart of vodka. Under the table lay one top boot, covered with dust. +Casting a glance around the room, the magistrate frowned and grew red +in the face. + +"Scoundrels!" he muttered, clenching his fists. + +"And where is Marcus Ivanovitch?" asked Dukovski in a low voice. + +"Mind your own business!" Chubikoff answered roughly. "Be good enough +to examine the floor! This is not the first case of the kind I have +had to deal with! Eugraph Kuzmitch," he said, turning to the +inspector, and lowering his voice, "in 1870 I had another case like +this. But you must remember it--the murder of the merchant +Portraitoff. It was just the same there. The scoundrels murdered him, +and dragged the corpse out through the window----" + +Chubikoff went up to the window, pulled the curtain to one side, and +carefully pushed the window. The window opened. + +"It opens, you see! It wasn't fastened. Hm! There are tracks under the +window. Look! There is the track of a knee! Somebody got in there. We +must examine the window thoroughly." + +"There is nothing special to be found on the floor," said +Dukovski. +"No stains or scratches. The only thing I found was a struck safety +match. Here it is! So far as I remember, Marcus Ivanovitch did not +smoke. And he always used sulphur matches, never safety matches. +Perhaps this safety match may serve as a clew!" + +"Oh, do shut up!" cried the magistrate deprecatingly. "You go on about +your match! I can't abide these dreamers! Instead of chasing matches, +you had better examine the bed!" + +After a thorough examination of the bed, Dukovski reported: + +"There are no spots, either of blood or of anything else. There are +likewise no new torn places. On the pillow there are signs of teeth. +The quilt is stained with something which looks like beer and smells +like beer. The general aspect of the bed gives grounds for thinking +that a struggle took place on it." + +"I know there was a struggle, without your telling me! You are not +being asked about a struggle. Instead of looking for struggles, you +had better----" + +"Here is one top boot, but there is no sign of the other." + +"Well, and what of that?" + +"It proves that they strangled him, while he was taking his boots off. +He hadn't time to take the second boot off when----" + +"There you go!--and how do you know they strangled him?" + +"There are marks of teeth on the pillow. The pillow itself is badly +crumpled, and thrown a couple of yards from the bed." + +"Listen to his foolishness! Better come into the garden. You would be +better employed examining the garden than digging around here. I can +do that without you!" + +When they reached the garden they began by examining the grass. The +grass under the window was crushed and trampled. A bushy burdock +growing under the window close to the wall was also trampled. Dukovski +succeeded in finding on it some broken twigs and a piece of cotton +wool. On the upper branches were found some fine hairs of dark blue +wool. + +"What color was his last suit?" Dukovski asked Psyekoff. + +"Yellow crash." + +"Excellent! You see they wore blue!" + +A few twigs of the burdock were cut off, and carefully wrapped in +paper by the investigators. At this point Police Captain Artsuybasheff +Svistakovski and Dr. Tyutyeff arrived. The captain bade them "Good +day!" and immediately began to satisfy his curiosity. The doctor, a +tall, very lean man, with dull eyes, a long nose, and a pointed chin, +without greeting anyone or asking about anything, sat down on a log, +sighed, and began: + +"The Servians are at war again! What in heaven's name can they want +now? Austria, it's all your doing!" + +The examination of the window from the outside did not supply any +conclusive data. The examination of the grass and the bushes nearest +to the window yielded a series of useful clews. For example, Dukovski +succeeded in discovering a long, dark streak, made up of spots, on the +grass, which led some distance into the center of the garden. The +streak ended under one of the lilac bushes in a dark brown stain. +Under this same lilac bush was found a top boot, which turned out to +be the fellow of the boot already found in the bedroom. + +"That is a blood stain made some time ago," said Dukovski, examining +the spot. + +At the word "blood" the doctor rose, and going over lazily, looked at +the spot. + +"Yes, it is blood!" he muttered. + +"That shows he wasn't strangled, if there was blood," said Chubikoff, +looking sarcastically at Dukovski. + +"They strangled him in the bedroom; and here, fearing he might come +round again, they struck him a blow with some sharp-pointed +instrument. The stain under the bush proves that he lay there a +considerable time, while they were looking about for some way of +carrying him out of the garden. + +"Well, and how about the boot?" + +"The boot confirms completely my idea that they murdered him while he +was taking his boots off before going to bed. He had already taken off +one boot, and the other, this one here, he had only had time to take +half off. The half-off boot came off of itself, while the body was +dragged over, and fell----" + +"There's a lively imagination for you!" laughed Chubikoff. "He goes on +and on like that! When will you learn enough to drop your deductions? +Instead of arguing and deducing, it would be much better if you took +some of the blood-stained grass for analysis!" + +When they had finished their examination, and drawn a plan of the +locality, the investigators went to the director's office to write +their report and have breakfast. While they were breakfasting they +went on talking: + +"The watch, the money, and so on--all untouched--" Chubikoff began, +leading off the talk, "show as clearly as that two and two are four +that the murder was not committed for the purpose of robbery." + +"The murder was committed by an educated man!" insisted Dukovski. + +"What evidence have you of that?" + +"The safety match proves that to me, for the peasants hereabouts are +not yet acquainted with safety matches. Only the landowners use them, +and by no means all of them. And it is evident that there was not one +murderer, but at least three. Two held him, while one killed him. +Klausoff was strong, and the murderers must have known it!" + +"What good would his strength be, supposing he was asleep?" + +"The murderers came on him while he was taking off his boots. If he +was taking off his boots, that proves that he wasn't asleep!" + +"Stop inventing your deductions! Better eat!" + +"In my opinion, your worship," said the gardener Ephraim, setting the +samovar on the table, "it was nobody but Nicholas who did this dirty +trick!" + +"Quite possible," said Psyekoff. + +"And who is Nicholas?" + +"The master's valet, your worship," answered Ephraim. "Who else could +it be? He's a rascal, your worship! He's a drunkard and a blackguard, +the like of which Heaven should not permit! He always took the master +his vodka and put the master to bed. Who else could it be? And I also +venture to point out to your worship, he once boasted at the public +house that he would kill the master! It happened on account of +Aquilina, the woman, you know. He was making up to a soldier's widow. +She pleased the master; the master made friends with her himself, and +Nicholas--naturally, he was mad! He is rolling about drunk in the +kitchen now. He is crying, and telling lies, saying he is sorry for +the master----" + +The examining magistrate ordered Nicholas to be brought. Nicholas, a +lanky young fellow, with a long, freckled nose, narrow-chested, and +wearing an old jacket of his master's, entered Psyekoff's room, and +bowed low before the magistrate. His face was sleepy and tear-stained. +He was tipsy and could hardly keep his feet. + +"Where is your master?" Chubikoff asked him. + +"Murdered! your worship!" + +As he said this, Nicholas blinked and began to weep. + +"We know he was murdered. But where is he now? Where is his body?" + +"They say he was dragged out of the window and buried in the garden!" + +"Hum! The results of the investigation are known in the kitchen +already!--That's bad! Where were you, my good fellow, the night the +master was murdered? Saturday night, that is." + +Nicholas raised his head, stretched his neck, and began to think. + +"I don't know, your worship," he said. "I was drunk and don't +remember." + +"An alibi!" whispered Dukovski, smiling, and rubbing his hands. + +"So-o! And why is there blood under the master's window?" + +Nicholas jerked his head up and considered. + +"Hurry up!" said the Captain of Police. + +"Right away! That blood doesn't amount to anything, your worship! I +was cutting a chicken's throat. I was doing it quite simply, in the +usual way, when all of a sudden it broke away and started to run. That +is where the blood came from." + +Ephraim declared that Nicholas did kill a chicken every evening, and +always in some new place, but that nobody ever heard of a half-killed +chicken running about the garden, though of course it wasn't +impossible. + +"An alibi," sneered Dukovski; "and what an asinine alibi!" + +"Did you know Aquilina?" + +"Yes, your worship, I know her." + +"And the master cut you out with her?" + +"Not at all. _He_ cut me out--Mr. Psyekoff there, Ivan Mikhailovitch; +and the master cut Ivan Mikhailovitch out. That is how it was." + +Psyekoff grew confused and began to scratch his left eye. Dukovski +looked at him attentively, noted his confusion, and started. He +noticed that the director had dark blue trousers, which he had not +observed before. The trousers reminded him of the dark blue threads +found on the burdock. Chubikoff in his turn glanced suspiciously at +Psyekoff. + +"Go!" he said to Nicholas. "And now permit me to put a question to +you, Mr. Psyekoff. Of course you were here last Saturday evening?" + +"Yes! I had supper with Marcus Ivanovitch about ten o'clock." + +"And afterwards?" + +"Afterwards--afterwards--Really, I do not remember," stammered +Psyekoff. "I had a good deal to drink at supper. I don't remember when +or where I went to sleep. Why are you all looking at me like that, as +if I was the murderer?" + +"Where were you when you woke up?" + +"I was in the servants' kitchen, lying behind the stove! They can all +confirm it. How I got behind the stove I don't know----" + +"Do not get agitated. Did you know Aquilina?" + +"There's nothing extraordinary about that----" + +"She first liked you and then preferred Klausoff?" + +"Yes. Ephraim, give us some more mushrooms! Do you want some more tea, +Eugraph Kuzmitch?" + +A heavy, oppressive silence began and lasted fully five minutes. +Dukoyski silently kept his piercing eyes fixed on Psyekoff's pale +face. The silence was finally broken by the examining magistrate: + +"We must go to the house and talk with Maria Ivanovna, the sister of +the deceased. Perhaps she may be able to supply some clews." + +Chubikoff and his assistant expressed their thanks for the breakfast, +and went toward the house. They found Klausoff's sister, Maria +Ivanovna, an old maid of forty-five, at prayer before the big case of +family icons. When she saw the portfolios in her guests' hands, and +their official caps, she grew pale. + +"Let me begin by apologizing for disturbing, so to speak, your +devotions," began the gallant Chubikoff, bowing and scraping. "We have +come to you with a request. Of course, you have heard already. There +is a suspicion that your dear brother, in some way or other, has been +murdered. The will of God, you know. No one can escape death, neither +czar nor plowman. Could you not help us with some clew, some +explanation----?" + +"Oh, don't ask me!" said Maria Ivanovna, growing still paler, and +covering her face with her hands. "I can tell you nothing. Nothing! I +beg you! I know nothing--What can I do? Oh, no! no!--not a word about +my brother! If I die, I won't say anything!" + +Maria Ivanovna began to weep, and left the room. The investigators +looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders, and beat a retreat. + +"Confound the woman!" scolded Dukovski, going out of the house. "It is +clear she knows something, and is concealing it! And the chambermaid +has a queer expression too! Wait, you wretches! We'll ferret it all +out!" + +In the evening Chubikoff and his deputy, lit on their road by the pale +moon, wended their way homeward. They sat in their carriage and +thought over the results of the day. Both were tired and kept silent. +Chubikoff was always unwilling to talk while traveling, and the +talkative Dukovski remained silent, to fall in with the elder man's +humor. But at the end of their journey the deputy could hold in no +longer, and said: + +"It is quite certain," he said, "that Nicholas had something to do +with the matter. _Non dubitandum est!_ You can see by his face what +sort of a case he is! His alibi betrays him, body and bones. But it is +also certain that he did not set the thing going. He was only the +stupid hired tool. You agree? And the humble Psyekoff was not without +some slight share in the matter. His dark blue breeches, his +agitation, his lying behind the stove in terror after the murder, his +alibi and--Aquilina----" + +"'Grind away, Emilian; it's your week!' So, according to you, whoever +knew Aquilina is the murderer! Hot-head! You ought to be sucking a +bottle, and not handling affairs! You were one of Aquilina's admirers +yourself--does it follow that you are implicated too?" + +"Aquilina was cook in your house for a month. I am saying nothing +about that! The night before that Saturday I was playing cards with +you, and saw you, otherwise I should be after you too! It isn't the +woman that matters, old chap! It is the mean, nasty, low spirit of +jealousy that matters. The retiring young man was not pleased when +they got the better of him, you see! His vanity, don't you see? He +wanted revenge. Then, those thick lips of his suggest passion. So +there you have it: wounded self-love and passion. That is quite enough +motive for a murder. We have two of them in our hands; but who is the +third? Nicholas and Psyekoff held him, but who smothered him? Psyekoff +is shy, timid, an all-round coward. And Nicholas would not know how to +smother with a pillow. His sort use an ax or a club. Some third person +did the smothering; but who was it?" + +Dukovski crammed his hat down over his eyes and pondered. He remained +silent until the carriage rolled up to the magistrate's door. + +"Eureka!" he said, entering the little house and throwing off his +overcoat. "Eureka, Nicholas Yermolayevitch! The only thing I can't +understand is, how it did not occur to me sooner! Do you know who the +third person was?" + +"Oh, for goodness sake, shut up! There is supper! Sit down to your +evening meal!" + +The magistrate and Dukovski sat down to supper. Dukovski poured +himself out a glass of vodka, rose, drew himself up, and said, with +sparkling eyes: + +"Well, learn that the third person, who acted in concert with that +scoundrel Psyekoff, and did the smothering, was a woman! Yes-s! I +mean--the murdered man's sister, Maria Ivanovna!" + +Chubikoff choked over his vodka, and fixed his eyes on Dukovski. + +"You aren't--what's-its-name? Your head isn't what-do-you-call-it? You +haven't a pain in it?" + +"I am perfectly well! Very well, let us say that I am crazy; but how +do you explain her confusion when we appeared? How do you explain her +unwillingness to give us any information? Let us admit that these are +trifles. Very well! All right! But remember their relations. She +detested her brother. She never forgave him for living apart from his +wife. She is of the Old Faith, while in her eyes he is a godless +profligate. There is where the germ of her hate was hatched. They say +he succeeded in making her believe that he was an angel of Satan. He +even went in for spiritualism in her presence!" + +"Well, what of that?" + +"You don't understand? She, as a member of the Old Faith, murdered him +through fanaticism. It was not only that she was putting to death a +weed, a profligate--she was freeing the world of an antichrist!--and +there, in her opinion, was her service, her religious achievement! Oh, +you don't know those old maids of the Old Faith. Read Dostoyevsky! And +what does Lyeskoff say about them, or Petcherski? It was she, and +nobody else, even if you cut me open. She smothered him! O treacherous +woman! wasn't that the reason why she was kneeling before the icons, +when we came in, just to take our attention away? 'Let me kneel down +and pray,' she said to herself, 'and they will think I am tranquil and +did not expect them!' That is the plan of all novices in crime, +Nicholas Yermolayevitch, old pal! My dear old man, won't you intrust +this business to me? Let me personally bring it through! Friend, I +began it and I will finish it!" + +Chubikoff shook his head and frowned. + +"We know how to manage difficult matters ourselves," he said; "and +your business is not to push yourself in where you don't belong. Write +from dictation when you are dictated to; that is your job!" + +Dukovski flared up, banged the door, and disappeared. + +"Clever rascal!" muttered Chubikoff, glancing after him. "Awfully +clever! But too much of a hothead. I must buy him a cigar case at the +fair as a present." + +The next day, early in the morning, a young man with a big head and a +pursed-up mouth, who came from Klausoff's place, was introduced to the +magistrate's office. He said he was the shepherd Daniel, and brought a +very interesting piece of information. + +"I was a bit drunk," he said. "I was with my pal till midnight. On my +way home, as I was drunk, I went into the river for a bath. I was +taking a bath, when I looked up. Two men were walking along the dam, +carrying something black. 'Shoo!' I cried at them. They got scared, +and went off like the wind toward Makareff's cabbage garden. Strike me +dead, if they weren't carrying away the master!" + +That same day, toward evening, Psyekoff and Nicholas were arrested and +brought under guard to the district town. In the town they were +committed to the cells of the prison. + + +II + +A fortnight passed. + +It was morning. The magistrate Nicholas Yermolayevitch was sitting in +his office before a green table, turning over the papers of the +"Klausoff case"; Dukovski was striding restlessly up and down, like a +wolf in a cage. + +"You are convinced of the guilt of Nicholas and Psyekoff," he said, +nervously plucking at his young beard. "Why will you not believe in +the guilt of Maria Ivanovna? Are there not proofs enough for you?" + +"I don't say I am not convinced. I am convinced, but somehow I don't +believe it! There are no real proofs, but just a kind of +philosophizing--fanaticism, this and that----" + +"You can't do without an ax and bloodstained sheets. Those jurists! +Very well, I'll prove it to you! You will stop sneering at the +psychological side of the affair! To Siberia with your Maria Ivanovna! +I will prove it! If philosophy is not enough for you, I have something +substantial for you. It will show you how correct my philosophy is. +Just give me permission----" + +"What are you going on about?" + +"About the safety match! Have you forgotten it? I haven't! I am going +to find out who struck it in the murdered man's room. It was not +Nicholas that struck it; it was not Psyekoff, for neither of them had +any matches when they were examined; it was the third person, Maria +Ivanovna. I will prove it to you. Just give me permission to go +through the district to find out." + +"That's enough! Sit down. Let us go on with the examination." + +Dukovski sat down at a little table, and plunged his long nose in a +bundle of papers. + +"Bring in Nicholas Tetekhoff!" cried the examining magistrate. + +They brought Nicholas in. Nicholas was pale and thin as a rail. He was +trembling. + +"Tetekhoff!" began Chubikoff. "In 1879 you were tried in the Court of +the First Division, convicted of theft, and sentenced to imprisonment. +In 1882 you were tried a second time for theft, and were again +imprisoned. We know all----" + +Astonishment was depicted on Nicholas's face. The examining +magistrate's omniscience startled him. But soon his expression of +astonishment changed to extreme indignation. He began to cry and +requested permission to go and wash his face and quiet down. They led +him away. + +"Bring in Psyekoff!" ordered the examining magistrate. + +They brought in Psyekoff. The young man had changed greatly during the +last few days. He had grown thin and pale, and looked haggard. His +eyes had an apathetic expression. + +"Sit down, Psyekoff," said Chubikoff. "I hope that to-day you are +going to be reasonable, and will not tell lies, as you did before. All +these days you have denied that you had anything to do with the murder +of Klausoff, in spite of all the proofs that testify against you. That +is foolish. Confession will lighten your guilt. This is the last time +I am going to talk to you. If you do not confess to-day, to-morrow it +will be too late. Come, tell me all----" + +"I know nothing about it. I know nothing about your proofs," answered +Psyekoff, almost inaudibly. + +"It's no use! Well, let me relate to you how the matter took place. On +Saturday evening you were sitting in Klausoff's sleeping room, and +drinking vodka and beer with him." (Dukovski fixed his eyes on +Psyekoff's face, and kept them there all through the examination.) +"Nicholas was waiting on you. At one o'clock, Marcus Ivanovitch +announced his intention of going to bed. He always went to bed at one +o'clock. When he was taking off his boots, and was giving you +directions about details of management, you and Nicholas, at a given +signal, seized your drunken master and threw him on the bed. One of +you sat on his legs, the other on his head. Then a third person came +in from the passage--a woman in a black dress, whom you know well, and +who had previously arranged with you as to her share in your criminal +deed. She seized a pillow and began to smother him. While the struggle +was going on the candle went out. The woman took a box of safety +matches from her pocket, and lit the candle. Was it not so? I see by +your face that I am speaking the truth. But to go on. After you had +smothered him, and saw that he had ceased breathing, you and Nicholas +pulled him out through the window and laid him down near the burdock. +Fearing that he might come round again, you struck him with something +sharp. Then you carried him away, and laid him down under a lilac bush +for a short time. After resting awhile and considering, you carried +him across the fence. Then you entered the road. After that comes the +dam. Near the dam, a peasant frightened you. Well, what is the matter +with you?" + +"I am suffocating!" replied Psyekoff. "Very well--have it so. Only let +me go out, please!" + +They led Psyekoff away. + +"At last! He has confessed!" cried Chubikoff, stretching himself +luxuriously. "He has betrayed himself! And didn't I get round him +cleverly! Regularly caught him napping----" + +"And he doesn't deny the woman in the black dress!" exulted Dukovski. +"But all the same, that safety match is tormenting me frightfully. I +can't stand it any longer. Good-by! I am off!" + +Dukovski put on his cap and drove off. Chubikoff began to examine +Aquilina. Aquilina declared that she knew nothing whatever about it. + +At six that evening Dukovski returned. He was more agitated than he +had ever been before. His hands trembled so that he could not even +unbutton his greatcoat. His cheeks glowed. It was clear that he did +not come empty handed. + +"_Veni, vidi, vici!_" he cried, rushing into Chubikoff's room, and +falling into an armchair. "I swear to you on my honor, I begin to +believe that I am a genius! Listen, devil take us all! It is funny, +and it is sad. We have caught three already--isn't that so? Well, I +have found the fourth, and a woman at that. You will never believe who +it is! But listen. I went to Klausoff's village, and began to make a +spiral round it. I visited all the little shops, public houses, dram +shops on the road, everywhere asking for safety matches. Everywhere +they said they hadn't any. I made a wide round. Twenty times I lost +faith, and twenty times I got it back again. I knocked about the whole +day, and only an hour ago I got on the track. Three versts from here. +They gave me a packet of ten boxes. One box was missing. Immediately: +'Who bought the other box?' 'Such-a-one! She was pleased with them!' +Old man! Nicholas Yermolayevitch! See what a fellow who was expelled +from the seminary and who has read Gaboriau can do! From to-day on I +begin to respect myself! Oof! Well, come!" + +"Come where?" + +"To her, to number four! We must hurry, otherwise--otherwise I'll +burst with impatience! Do you know who she is? You'll never guess! +Olga Petrovna, Marcus Ivanovitch's wife--his own wife--that's who it +is! She is the person who bought the matchbox!" + +"You--you--you are out of your mind!" + +"It's quite simple! To begin with, she smokes. Secondly, she was head +and ears in love with Klausoff, even after he refused to live in the +same house with her, because she was always scolding his head off. +Why, they say she used to beat him because she loved him so much. And +then he positively refused to stay in the same house. Love turned +sour. 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.' But come along! Quick, +or it will be dark. Come!" + +"I am not yet sufficiently crazy to go and disturb a respectable +honorable woman in the middle of the night for a crazy boy!" + +"Respectable, honorable! Do honorable women murder their husbands? +After that you are a rag, and not an examining magistrate! I never +ventured to call you names before, but now you compel me to. Rag! +Dressing-gown!--Dear Nicholas Yermolayevitch, do come, I beg of +you----!" + +The magistrate made a deprecating motion with his hand. + +"I beg of you! I ask, not for myself, but in the interests of justice. +I beg you! I implore you! Do what I ask you to, just this once!" + +Dukovski went down on his knees. + +"Nicholas Yermolayevitch! Be kind! Call me a blackguard, a +ne'er-do-weel, if I am mistaken about this woman. You see what an +affair it is. What a case it is. A romance! A woman murdering her own +husband for love! The fame of it will go all over Russia. They will +make you investigator in all important cases. Understand, O foolish +old man!" + +The magistrate frowned, and undecidedly stretched his hand toward his +cap. + +"Oh, the devil take you!" he said. "Let us go!" + +It was dark when the magistrate's carriage rolled up to the porch of +the old country house in which Olga Petrovna had taken refuge with her +brother. + +"What pigs we are," said Chubikoff, taking hold of the bell, "to +disturb a poor woman like this!" + +"It's all right! It's all right! Don't get frightened! We can say that +we have broken a spring." + +Chubikoff and Dukovski were met at the threshold by a tall buxom woman +of three and twenty, with pitch-black brows and juicy red lips. It was +Olga Petrovna herself, apparently not the least distressed by the +recent tragedy. + +"Oh, what a pleasant surprise!" she said, smiling broadly. "You are +just in time for supper. Kuzma Petrovitch is not at home. He is +visiting the priest, and has stayed late. But we'll get on without +him! Be seated. You have come from the examination?" + +"Yes. We broke a spring, you know," began Chubikoff, entering the +sitting room and sinking into an armchair. + +"Take her unawares--at once!" whispered Dukovski; "take her unawares!" + +"A spring--hum--yes--so we came in." + +"Take her unawares, I tell you! She will guess what the matter is if +you drag things out like that." + +"Well, do it yourself as you want. But let me get out of it," muttered +Chubikoff, rising and going to the window. + +"Yes, a spring," began Dukovski, going close to Olga Petrovna and +wrinkling his long nose. "We did not drive over here--to take supper +with you or--to see Kuzma Petrovitch. We came here to ask you, +respected madam, where Marcus Ivanovitch is, whom you murdered!" + +"What? Marcus Ivanovitch murdered?" stammered Olga Petrovna, and her +broad face suddenly and instantaneously flushed bright scarlet. "I +don't--understand!" + +"I ask you in the name of the law! Where is Klausoff? We know all!" + +"Who told you?" Olga Petrovna asked in a low voice, unable to endure +Dukovski's glance. + +"Be so good as to show us where he is!" + +"But how did you find out? Who told you?" + +"We know all! I demand it in the name of the law!" + +The examining magistrate, emboldened by her confusion, came forward +and said: + +"Show us, and we will go away. Otherwise, we----" + +"What do you want with him?" + +"Madam, what is the use of these questions? We ask you to show us! You +tremble, you are agitated. Yes, he has been murdered, and, if you must +have it, murdered by you! Your accomplices have betrayed you!" + +Olga Petrovna grew pale. + +"Come!" she said in a low voice, wringing her hands. "I have +him--hid--in the bath house! Only for heaven's sake, do not tell Kuzma +Petrovitch. I beg and implore you! He will never forgive me!" + +Olga Petrovna took down a big key from the wall, and led her guests +through the kitchen and passage to the courtyard. The courtyard was in +darkness. Fine rain was falling. Olga Petrovna walked in advance of +them. Chubikoff and Dukovski strode behind her through the long grass, +as the odor of wild hemp and dishwater splashing under their feet +reached them. The courtyard was wide. Soon the dishwater ceased, and +they felt freshly broken earth under their feet. In the darkness +appeared the shadowy outlines of trees, and among the trees a little +house with a crooked chimney. + +"That is the bath house," said Olga Petrovna. "But I implore you, do +not tell my brother! If you do, I'll never hear the end of it!" + +Going up to the bath house, Chubikoff and Dukovski saw a huge padlock +on the door. + +"Get your candle and matches ready," whispered the examining +magistrate to his deputy. + +Olga Petrovna unfastened the padlock, and let her guests into the bath +house. Dukovski struck a match and lit up the anteroom. In the middle +of the anteroom stood a table. On the table, beside a sturdy little +samovar, stood a soup tureen with cold cabbage soup and a plate with +the remnants of some sauce. + +"Forward!" + +They went into the next room, where the bath was. There was a table +there also. On the table was a dish with some ham, a bottle of vodka, +plates, knives, forks. + +"But where is it--where is the murdered man?" asked the examining +magistrate. + +"On the top tier," whispered Olga Petrovna, still pale and trembling. + +Dukovski took the candle in his hand and climbed up to the top tier of +the sweating frame. There he saw a long human body lying motionless on +a large feather bed. A slight snore came from the body. + +"You are making fun of us, devil take it!" cried Dukovski. "That is +not the murdered man! Some live fool is lying here. Here, whoever you +are, the devil take you!" + +The body drew in a quick breath and stirred. Dukovski stuck his elbow +into it. It raised a hand, stretched itself, and lifted its head. + +"Who is sneaking in here?" asked a hoarse, heavy bass. "What do you +want?" + +Dukovski raised the candle to the face of the unknown, and cried out. +In the red nose, disheveled, unkempt hair, the pitch-black mustaches, +one of which was jauntily twisted and pointed insolently toward the +ceiling, he recognized the gallant cavalryman Klausoff. + +"You--Marcus--Ivanovitch? Is it possible?" + +The examining magistrate glanced sharply up at him, and stood +spellbound. + +"Yes, it is I. That's you, Dukovski? What the devil do you want here? +And who's that other mug down there? Great snakes! It is the examining +magistrate! What fate has brought him here?" + +Klausoff rushed down and threw his arms round Chubikoff in a cordial +embrace. Olga Petrovna slipped through the door. + +"How did you come here? Let's have a drink, devil take it! +Tra-ta-ti-to-tum--let us drink! But who brought you here? How did you +find out that I was here? But it doesn't matter! Let's have a drink!" + +Klausoff lit the lamp and poured out three glasses of vodka. + +"That is--I don't understand you," said the examining magistrate, +running his hands over him. "Is this you or not you!" + +"Oh, shut up! You want to preach me a sermon? Don't trouble yourself! +Young Dukovski, empty your glass! Friends, let us bring this--What are +you looking at? Drink!" + +"All the same, I do not understand!" said the examining magistrate, +mechanically drinking off the vodka. "What are you here for?" + +"Why shouldn't I be here, if I am all right here?" + +Klausoff drained his glass and took a bite of ham. + +"I am in captivity here, as you see. In solitude, in a cavern, like a +ghost or a bogey. Drink! She carried me off and locked me up, +and--well, I am living here, in the deserted bath house, like a +hermit. I am fed. Next week I think I'll try to get out. I'm tired of +it here!" + +"Incomprehensible!" said Dukovski. + +"What is incomprehensible about it?" + +"Incomprehensible! For Heaven's sake, how did your boot get into the +garden?" + +"What boot?" + +"We found one boot in the sleeping room and the other in the garden." + +"And what do you want to know that for? It's none of your business! +Why don't you drink, devil take you? If you wakened me, then drink +with me! It is an interesting tale, brother, that of the boot! I +didn't want to go with Olga. I don't like to be bossed. She came under +the window and began to abuse me. She always was a termagant. You know +what women are like, all of them. I was a bit drunk, so I took a boot +and heaved it at her. Ha-ha-ha! Teach her not to scold another time! +But it didn't! Not a bit of it! She climbed in at the window, lit the +lamp, and began to hammer poor tipsy me. She thrashed me, dragged me +over here, and locked me in. She feeds me now--on love, vodka, and +ham! But where are you off to, Chubikoff? Where are you going?" + +The examining magistrate swore, and left the bath house. Dukovski +followed him, crestfallen. They silently took their seats in the +carriage and drove off. The road never seemed to them so long and +disagreeable as it did that time. Both remained silent. Chubikoff +trembled with rage all the way. Dukovski hid his nose in the collar of +his overcoat, as if he was afraid that the darkness and the drizzling +rain might read the shame in his face. + +When they reached home, the examining magistrate found Dr. Tyutyeff +awaiting him. The doctor was sitting at the table, and, sighing +deeply, was turning over the pages of the _Neva_. + +"Such goings-on there are in the world!" he said, meeting the +examining magistrate with a sad smile, "Austria is at it again! And +Gladstone also to some extent----" + +Chubikoff threw his cap under the table, and shook himself. + +"Devils' skeletons! Don't plague me! A thousand times I have told you +not to bother me with your politics! This is no question of politics! +And you," said Chubikoff, turning to Dukovski and shaking his fist, "I +won't forget this in a thousand years!" + +"But the safety match? How could I know?" + +"Choke yourself with your safety match! Get out of my way! Don't make +me mad, or the devil only knows what I'll do to you! Don't let me see +a trace of you!" + +Dukovski sighed, took his hat, and went out. + +"I'll go and get drunk," he decided, going through the door, and +gloomily wending his way to the public house. + + + +VSEVOLOD VLADIMIROVITCH KRESTOVSKI + + +_KNIGHTS OF INDUSTRY_ + + +I + +THE LAST WILL OF THE PRINCESS + + +Princess Anna Chechevinski for the last time looked at the home of her +girlhood, over which the St. Petersburg twilight was descending. +Defying the commands of her mother, the traditions of her family, she +had decided to elope with the man of her choice. With a last word of +farewell to her maid, she wrapped her cloak round her and disappeared +into the darkness. + +The maid's fate had been a strange one. In one of the districts beyond +the Volga lived a noble, a bachelor, luxuriously, caring only for his +own amusement. He fished, hunted, and petted the pretty little +daughter of his housekeeper, one of his serfs, whom he vaguely +intended to set free. He passed hours playing with the pretty child, +and even had an old French governess come to give her lessons. She +taught little Natasha to dance, to play the piano, to put on the airs +and graces of a little lady. So the years passed, and the old nobleman +obeyed the girl's every whim, and his serfs bowed before her and +kissed her hands. Gracefully and willfully she queened it over the +whole household. + +Then one fine day the old noble took thought and died. He had +forgotten to liberate his housekeeper and her daughter, and, as he was +a bachelor, his estate went to his next of kin, the elder Princess +Chechevinski. Between the brother and sister a cordial hatred had +existed, and they had not seen one another for years. + +Coming to take possession of the estate, Princess Chechevinski carried +things with a high hand. She ordered the housekeeper to the cow house, +and carried off the girl Natasha, as her daughter's maid, to St. +Petersburg, from the first hour letting her feel the lash of her +bitter tongue and despotic will. Natasha had tried in vain to dry her +mother's tears. With growing anger and sorrow she watched the old +house as they drove away, and looking at the old princess she said to +herself, "I hate her! I hate her! I will never forgive her!" + +Princess Anna, bidding her maid good-by, disappeared into the night. +The next morning the old princess learned of the flight. Already ill, +she fell fainting to the floor, and for a long time her condition was +critical. She regained consciousness, tried to find words to express +her anger, and again swooned away. Day and night, three women watched +over her, her son's old nurse, her maid, and Natasha, who took turns +in waiting on her. Things continued thus for forty-eight hours. +Finally, on the night of the third day she came to herself. It was +Natasha's watch. + +"And you knew? You knew she was going?" the old princess asked her +fiercely. + +The girl started, unable at first to collect her thoughts, and looked +up frightened. The dim flicker of the night light lit her pale face +and golden hair, and fell also on the grim, emaciated face of the old +princess, whose eyes glittered feverishly under her thick brows. + +"You knew my daughter was going to run away?" repeated the old woman, +fixing her keen eyes on Natasha's face, trying to raise herself from +among the lace-fringed pillows. + +"I knew," the girl answered in a half whisper, lowering her eyes in +confusion, and trying to throw off her first impression of terror. + +"Why did you not tell me before?" the old woman continued, even more +fiercely. + +Natasha had now recovered her composure, and raising her eyes with an +expression of innocent distress, she answered: + +"Princess Anna hid everything from me also, until the very last. How +dare I tell you? Would you have believed me? It was not my business, +your excellency!" + +The old princess shook her head, smiling bitterly and incredulously. + +"Snake!" she hissed fiercely, looking at the girl; and then she added +quickly: + +"Did any of the others know?" + +"No one but myself!" answered Natasha. + +"Never dare to speak of her again! Never dare!" cried the old +princess, and once more she sank back unconscious on the pillows. + +About noon the next day she again came to herself, and ordered her son +to be called. He came in quietly, and affectionately approached his +mother. + +The princess dismissed her maid, and remained alone with her son. + +"You have no longer a sister!" she cried, turning to her son, with the +nervous spasm which returned each time she spoke of her daughter. "She +is dead for us! She has disgraced us! I curse her! You, you alone are +my heir!" + +At these words the young prince pricked up his ears and bent even more +attentively toward his mother. The news of his sole heirship was so +pleasant and unexpected that he did not even think of asking how his +sister had disgraced them, and only said with a deep sigh: + +"Oh, mamma, she was always opposed to you. She never loved you!" + +"I shall make a will in your favor," continued the princess, telling +him as briefly as possible of Princess Anna's flight. "Yes, in your +favor--only on one condition: that you will never recognize your +sister. That is my last wish!" + +"Your wish is sacred to me," murmured her son, tenderly kissing her +hand. He had always been jealous and envious of his sister, and was +besides in immediate need of money. + +The princess signed her will that same day, to the no small +satisfaction of her dear son, who, in his heart, was wondering how +soon his beloved parent would pass away, so that he might get his eyes +on her long-hoarded wealth. + + +II + +THE LITHOGRAPHER'S APPRENTICE + + +Later on the same day, in a little narrow chamber of one of the huge, +dirty tenements on Vosnesenski Prospekt, sat a young man of ruddy +complexion. He was sitting at a table, bending toward the one dusty +window, and attentively examining a white twenty-five ruble note. + +The room, dusty and dark, was wretched enough. Two rickety chairs, a +torn haircloth sofa, with a greasy pillow, and the bare table at the +window, were its entire furniture. Several scattered lithographs, two +or three engravings, two slabs of lithographer's stone on the table, +and engraver's tools sufficiently showed the occupation of the young +man. He was florid, with red hair; of Polish descent, and his name was +Kasimir Bodlevski. On the wall, over the sofa, between the overcoat +and the cloak hanging on the wall, was a pencil drawing of a young +girl. It was the portrait of Natasha. + +The young man was so absorbed in his examination of the twenty-five +ruble note that when a gentle knock sounded on the door he started +nervously, as if coming back to himself, and even grew pale, and +hurriedly crushed the banknote into his pocket. + +The knock was repeated--and this time Bodlevski's face lit up. It was +evidently a well-known and expected knock, for he sprang up and opened +the door with a welcoming smile. + +Natasha entered the room. + +"What were you dreaming about that you didn't open the door for me?" +she asked caressingly, throwing aside her hat and cloak, and taking a +seat on the tumble-down sofa. "What were you busy at?" + +"You know, yourself." + +And instead of explaining further, he drew the banknote from his +pocket and showed it to Natasha. + +"This morning the master paid me, and I am keeping the money," he +continued in a low voice, tilting back his chair. "I pay neither for +my rooms nor my shop, but sit here and study all the time." + +"It's so well worth while, isn't it?" smiled Natasha with a +contemptuous grimace. + +"You don't think it is worth while?" said the young man. "Wait! I'll +learn. We'll be rich!" + +"Yes, if we aren't sent to Siberia!" the girl laughed, "What kind of +wealth is that?" she went on. "The game is not worth the candle. I'll +be rich before you are." + +"All right, go ahead!" + +"Go ahead? I didn't come to talk nonsense, I came on business. You +help me, and, on my word of honor, we'll be in clover!" + +Bodlevski looked at his companion in astonishment. + +"I told you my Princess Anna was going to run away. She's gone! And +her mother has cut her off from the inheritance," Natasha continued +with an exultant smile. "I looked through the scrap basket, and have +brought some papers with me." + +"What sort of papers?" + +"Oh, letters and notes. They are all in Princess Anna's handwriting. +Shall I give them to you?" jested Natasha. "Have a good look at them, +examine them, learn her handwriting, so that you can imitate every +letter. That kind of thing is just in your line; you are a first-class +copyist, so this is just the job for you." + +The engraver listened, and only shrugged his shoulders. + +"No, joking aside," she continued seriously, drawing nearer Bodlevski, +"I have thought of something out of the common; you will be grateful. +I have no time to explain it all now. You will know later on. The main +thing is--learn her handwriting." + +"But what is it all for?" said Bodlevski wonderingly. + +"So that you may be able to write a few words in the handwriting of +Princess Anna; what you have to write I'll dictate to you." + +"And then?" + +"Then hurry up and get me a passport in some one else's name, and have +your own ready. But learn her handwriting. Everything depends on +that!" + +"It won't be easy. I'll hardly be able to!" muttered Bodlevski, +scratching his head. + +Natasha flared up. + +"You say you love me?" she cried energetically, with a glance of +anger. "Well, then, do it. Unless you are telling lies, you can learn +to do banknotes." + +The young man strode up and down his den, perplexed. + +"How soon do you want it?" he asked, after a minute's thought. "In a +couple of days?" + +"Yes, in about two days, not longer, or the whole thing is done for!" +the girl replied decisively. "In two days I'll come for the writing, +and be sure my passport is ready!" + +"Very well. I'll do it," consented Bodlevski. And Natasha began to +dictate to him the wording of the letter. + +As soon as she was gone the engraver got to work. All the evening and +a great part of the night he bent over the papers she had brought, +examining the handwriting, studying the letters, and practicing every +stroke with the utmost care, copying and repeating it a hundred times, +until at last he had reached the required clearness. At last he +mastered the writing. It only remained to give it the needed lightness +and naturalness. His head rang from the concentration of blood in his +temples, but he still worked on. + +Finally, when it was almost morning, the note was written, and the +name of Princess Anna was signed to it. The work was a masterpiece, +and even exceeded Bodlevski's expectations. Its lightness and +clearness were remarkable. The engraver, examining the writing of +Princess Anna, compared it with his own work, and was astonished, so +perfect was the resemblance. + +And long he admired his handiwork, with the parental pride known to +every creator, and as he looked at this note he for the first time +fully realized that he was an artist. + + +III + +THE CAVE + + +"Half the work is done!" he cried, jumping from the tumble-down sofa. +"But the passport? There's where the shoe pinches," continued the +engraver, remembering the second half of Natasha's commission. "The +passport--yes--that's where the shoe pinches!" he muttered to himself +in perplexity, resting his head on his hands and his elbows on his +knees. Thinking over all kinds of possible and impossible plans, he +suddenly remembered a fellow countryman of his, a shoemaker named +Yuzitch, who had once confessed in a moment of intoxication that "he +would rather hook a watch than patch a shoe." Bodlevski remembered +that three months before he had met Yuzitch in the street, and they +had gone together to a wine shop, where, over a bottle generously +ordered by Yuzitch, Bodlevski had lamented over the hardships of +mankind in general, and his own in particular. He had not taken +advantage of Yuzitch's offer to introduce him to "the gang," only +because he had already determined to take up one of the higher +branches of the "profession," namely, to metamorphose white paper into +banknotes. When they were parting, Yuzitch had warmly wrung his hand, +saying: + +"Whenever you want anything, dear friend, or if you just want to see +me, come to the Cave; come to Razyeziy Street and ask for the Cave, +and at the Cave anyone will show you where to find Yuzitch. If the +barkeeper makes difficulties just whisper to him that 'Secret' sent +you, and he'll show you at once." + +As this memory suddenly flashed into his mind, Bodlevski caught up his +hat and coat and hurried downstairs into the street. Making his way +through the narrow, dirty streets to the Five Points, he stopped +perplexed. Happily he noticed a sleepy watchman leaning leisurely +against a wall, and going up to him he said: + +"Tell me, where is the Cave?" + +"The what?" asked the watchman impatiently. + +"The Cave." + +"The Cave? There is no such place!" he replied, looking suspiciously +at Bodlevski. + +Bodlevski put his hand in his pocket and pulled out some small change: +"If you tell me----" + +The watchman brightened up. "Why didn't you say so before?" he asked, +grinning. "You see that house, the second from the corner? The wooden +one? That's the Cave." + +Bodlevski crossed the street in the direction indicated, and looked +for the sign over the door. To his astonishment he did not find it and +only later he knew that the name was strictly "unofficial," only used +by members of "the gang." + +Opening the door cautiously, Bodlevski made his way into the low, +dirty barroom. Behind the bar stood a tall, handsome man with an open +countenance and a bald head. Politely bowing to Bodlevski, with his +eyes rather than his head, he invited him to enter the inner room. But +Bodlevski explained that he wanted, not the inner room, but his friend +Yuzitch. + +"Yuzitch?" said the barkeeper thoughtfully. "We don't know anyone of +that name." + +"Why, he's here all the time," cried Bodlevski, in astonishment. + +"Don't know him," retorted the barkeeper imperturbably. + +"'Secret' sent me!" Bodlevski suddenly exclaimed, without lowering his +voice. + +The barkeeper looked at him sharply and suspiciously, and then asked, +with a smile: + +"Who did you say?" + +"'Secret,'" repeated Bodlevski. + +After a while the barkeeper said, "And did your--friend make an +appointment?" + +"Yes, an appointment!" Bodlevski replied, beginning to lose patience. + +"Well, take a seat in the inner room," again said the barkeeper slyly. +"Perhaps your friend will come in, or perhaps he is there already." + +Bodlevski made his way into a roomy saloon, with five windows with +faded red curtains. The ceiling was black from the smoke of hanging +lamps; little square tables were dotted about the floor; their covers +were coarse and not above reproach on the score of cleanliness. The +air was pungent with the odor of cheap tobacco and cheaper cigars. On +the walls were faded oleographs of generals and archbishops, flyblown +and stained. + +Bodlevski, little as he was used to refined surroundings, found his +gorge rising. At some of the little tables furtive, impudent, +tattered, sleek men were drinking. + +Presently Yuzitch made his appearance from a low door at the other end +of the room. The meeting of the two friends was cordial, especially on +Bodlevski's side. Presently they were seated at a table, with a flask +of wine between them, and Bodlevski began to explain what he wanted to +his friend. + +As soon as he heard what was wanted, Yuzitch took on an air of +importance, knit his brows, hemmed, and hawed. + +"I can manage it," he said finally. "Yes, we can manage it. I must see +one of my friends about it. But it's difficult. It will cost money." + +Bodlevski immediately assented. Yuzitch at once rose and went over to +a red-nosed individual in undress uniform, who was poring over the +_Police News_. + +"Friend Borisovitch," said Yuzitch, holding out his hand to him, +"something doing!" + +"Fair or foul?" asked the man with the red nose. "Hang your cheek!" +laughed Yuzitch; "if I say it, of course it's fair." After a whispered +conference, Yuzitch returned to Bodlevski and told him that it was all +right; that the passport for Natasha would be ready by the next +evening. Bodlevski paid him something in advance and went home +triumphantly. + +At eleven o'clock the next evening Bodlevski once more entered the +large room at the Cave, now all lit up and full of an animated crowd +of men and women, all with the same furtive, predatory faces. +Bodlevski felt nervous. He had no fears while turning white paper into +banknotes in the seclusion of his own workshop, but he was full of +apprehensions concerning his present guest, because several people had +to be let into the secret. + +Yuzitch presently appeared through the same low door and, coming up to +Bodlevski, explained that the passport would cost twenty rubles. +Bodlevski paid the money over in advance, and Yuzitch led him into a +back room. On the table burned a tallow candle, which hardly lit up +the faces of seven people who were grouped round it, one of them being +the red-nosed man who was reading the _Police News._ The seven men +were all from the districts of Vilna and Vitebsk, and were specialists +in the art of fabricating passports. + +The red-nosed man approached Bodlevski: "We must get acquainted with +each other," he said amiably. "I have the honor to present myself!" +and he bowed low; "Former District Secretary Pacomius Borisovitch +Prakkin. Let me request you first of all to order some vodka; my hand +shakes, you know," he added apologetically. "I don't want it so much +for myself as for my hand--to steady it." + +Bodlevski gave him some change, which the red-nosed man put in his +pocket and at once went to the sideboard for a flask of vodka which he +had already bought. "Let us give thanks! And now to business!" he +said, smacking his lips after a glass of vodka. + +A big, red-haired man, one of the group of seven, drew from his pocket +two vials. In one was a sticky black fluid; in the other, something as +clear as water. + +"We are chemists, you see," the red-nosed man explained to Bodlevski +with a grin, and then added: + +"Finch! on guard!" + +A young man, who had been lolling on a couch in the corner, rose and +took up a position outside the door. + +"Now, brothers, close up!" cried the red-nosed man, and all stood in +close order, elbow to elbow, round the table. "And now we take a +newspaper and have it handy on the table! That is in case," he +explained to Bodlevski, "any outsider happened in on us--which Heaven +prevent! We aren't up to anything at all; simply reading the political +news! You catch on?" + +"How could I help catching on?" + +"Very well. And now let us make everything as clear as in a +looking-glass. What class do you wish to make the person belong to? +The commercial or the nobility?" + +"I think the nobility would be best," said Bodlevski. + +"Certainly! At least that will give the right of free passage through +all the towns and districts of the Russian Empire. Let us see. Have we +not something that will suit?" + +And Pacomius Borisovitch, opening his portfolio, filled with all kinds +of passports, certificates, and papers of identification, began to +turn them over, but without taking any out of the portfolio. All with +the same thought--that some stranger might come in. + +"Ha! here's a new one! Where did it come from?" he cried. + +"I got it out of a new arrival," muttered the red-headed man. + +"Well done! Just what we want! And a noble's passport, too! It is +evident that Heaven is helping us. See what a blessing brings! + +"'This passport is issued by the District of Yaroslav,'" he continued +reading, "'to the college assessor's widow, Maria Solontseva, with +permission to travel,'" and so on in due form. "Did you get it here?" +he added, turning to the red-headed man. + +"Came from Moscow!" + +"Pinched?" + +"Knocked on the head!" briefly replied the red-headed man. + +"Knocked on the head?" repeated Pacomius Borisovitch. "Serious +business. Comes under sections 332 and 727 of the Penal Code." + +"Driveling again!" cried the red-headed man. "I'll teach you to talk +about the Penal Code!" and rising deliberately, he dealt Pacomius +Borisovitch a well-directed blow on the head, which sent him rolling +into the corner. Pacomius picked himself up, blinking with +indignation. + +"What is the meaning of such conduct?" he asked loftily. + +"It means," said the red-headed man, "that if you mention the Penal +Code again I'll knock your head off!" + +"Brothers, brothers!" cried Yuzitch in a good-humored tone; "we are +losing precious time! Forgive him!" he added, turning to Pacomius. +"You must forgive him!" + +"I--forgive him," answered Pacomius, but the light in his eye showed +that he was deeply offended. + +"Well," he went on, addressing Bodlevski, "will it suit you to have +the person pass as Maria Solontseva, widow of a college assessor?" + + +IV + +THE CAPTAIN OF THE GOLDEN BAND + + +Bodlevski had not time to nod his head in assent, when suddenly the +outer door was pushed quickly open and a tall man, well built and +fair-haired, stepped swiftly into the room. He wore a military uniform +and gold-rimmed eyeglasses. + +The company turned their faces toward him in startled surprise, but no +one moved. All continued to stand in close order round the table. + +"Health to you, eaglets! honorable men of Vilna! What are you up to? +What are you busy at?" cried the newcomer, swiftly approaching the +table and taking the chair that Pacomius Borisovitch had just been +knocked out of. + +"What is all this?" he continued, with one hand seizing the vial of +colorless liquid and with the other the photograph of the college +assessor's widow. "So this is hydrochloric acid for erasing ink? Very +good! And this is a photo! So we are fabricating passports? Very fine! +Business is business! Hey! Witnesses!" + +And the fair-haired man whistled sharply. From the outer door appeared +two faces, set on shoulders of formidable proportions. + +The red-headed man silently went up to the newcomer and fiercely +seized him by the collar. At the same moment the rest seized chairs or +logs or bars to defend themselves. + +The fair-haired man meanwhile, not in the least changing his +expression of cool self-confidence, quickly slipped his hands into his +pockets and pulled out a pair of small double-barreled pistols. In the +profound silence in which this scene took place they could distinctly +hear the click of the hammers as he cocked them. He raised his right +hand and pointed the muzzle at the breast of his opponent. + +The red-headed man let go his collar, and glancing contemptuously at +him, with an expression of hate and wrath, silently stepped aside. + +"How much must we pay?" he asked sullenly. + +"Oho! that's better. You should have begun by asking that!" answered +the newcomer, settling himself comfortably on his chair and toying +with his pistols. "How much do you earn?" + +"We get little enough! Just five rubles," answered the red-headed man. + +"That's too little. I need a great deal more. But you are lying, +brother! You would not stir for less than twenty rubles!" + +"Thanks for the compliment!" interrupted Pacomius Borisovitch. + +The fair-haired man nodded to him satirically. "I need a lot more," he +repeated firmly and impressively; "and if you don't give me at least +twenty-five rubles I'll denounce you this very minute to the +police--and you see I have my witnesses ready." + +"Sergei Antonitch! Mr. Kovroff! Have mercy on us! Where can we get so +much from? I tell you as in the presence of the Creator! There are ten +of us, as you see. And there are three of you. And I, Yuzitch, and +Gretcka deserve double shares!" added Pacomius Borisovitch +persuasively. + +"Gretcka deserves nothing at all for catching me by the throat," +decided Sergei Antonitch Kovroff. + +"Mr. Kovroff!" began Pacomius again. "You and I are gentlemen----" + +"What! What did you say?" Kovroff contemptuously interrupted him. "You +put yourself on my level? Ha! ha! ha! No, brother; I am still in the +Czar's service and wear my honor with my uniform! I, brother, have +never stained myself with theft or crime, Heaven be praised. But what +are you?" + +"Hm! And the Golden Band? Who is its captain?" muttered Gretcka +angrily, half to himself. + +"Who is its captain? I am--I, Lieutenant Sergei Antonitch Kovroff, of +the Chernovarski Dragoons! Do you hear? I am captain of the Golden +Band," he said proudly and haughtily, scrutinizing the company with +his confident gaze. "And you haven't yet got as far as the Golden +Band, because you are _cowards_! Chuproff," he cried to one of his +men, "go and take the mask off Finch, or the poor boy will suffocate, +and untie his arms--and give him a good crack on the head to teach him +to keep watch better." + +The "mask" that Kovroff employed on such occasions was nothing but a +piece of oilcloth cut the size of a person's face, and smeared on one +side with a thick paste. Kovroff's "boys" employed this "instrument" +with wonderful dexterity; one of them generally stole up behind the +unconscious victim and skillfully slapped the mask in his face; the +victim at once became dumb and blind, and panted from lack of breath; +at the same time, if necessary, his hands were tied behind him and he +was leisurely robbed, or held, as the case might be. + +The Golden Band was formed in the middle of the thirties, when the +first Nicholas had been about ten years on the throne. Its first +founders were three Polish nobles. It was never distinguished by the +number of its members, but everyone of them could honestly call +himself an accomplished knave, never stopping at anything that stood +in the way of a "job." The present head of the band was Lieutenant +Kovroff, who was a thorough-paced rascal, in the full sense of the +word. Daring, brave, self-confident, he also possessed a handsome +presence, good manners, and the worldly finish known as education. +Before the members of the Golden Band, and especially before Kovroff, +the small rascals stood in fear and trembling. He had his secret +agents everywhere, following every move of the crooks quietly but +pertinaciously. At the moment when some big job was being pulled off, +Kovroff suddenly appeared unexpectedly, with some of his "boys," and +demanded a contribution, threatening instantly to inform the police if +he did not get it--and the rogues, in order to "keep him quiet," had +to give him whatever share of their plunder he graciously deigned to +indicate. Acting with extraordinary skill and acumen in all his +undertakings he always managed so that not a shadow of suspicion could +fall on himself and so he got a double share of the plunder: robbing +the honest folk and the rogues at the same time. Kovroff escaped the +contempt of the crooks because he did things on such a big scale and +embarked with his Golden Band on the most desperate and dangerous +enterprises that the rest of roguedom did not even dare to consider. + +The rogues, whatever their rank, have a great respect for daring, +skill, and force--and therefore they respected Kovroff, at the same +time fearing and detesting him. + +"Who are you getting that passport for?" he asked, calmly taking the +paper from the table and slipping it into his pocket. Gretcka nodded +toward Bodlevski. + +"Aha! for you, is it? Very glad to hear it!" said Kovroff, measuring +him with his eyes. "And so, gentlemen, twenty-five rubles, or +good-by--to our happy meeting in the police court!" + +"Mr. Kovroff! Allow me to speak to you as a man of honor!" Pacomius +Borisovitch again interrupted. "We are only getting twenty rubles for +the job. The whole gang will pledge their words of honor to that. Do +you think we would lie to you and stain the honor of the gang for +twenty measly rubles?" + +"That is business. That was well said. I love a good speech, and am +always ready to respect it," remarked Sergei Antonitch approvingly. + +"Very well, then, see for yourself," went on the red-nosed Pacomius, +"see for yourself. If we give you everything, we are doing our work +and not getting a kopeck!" + +"Let him pay," answered Kovroff, turning his eyes toward Bodlevski. + +Bodlevski took out his gold watch, his only inheritance from his +father, and laid it down on the table before Kovroff, with the five +rubles that remained. + +Kovroff again measured him with his eyes and smiled. + +"You are a worthy young man!" he said. "Give me your hand! I see that +you will go far." + +And he warmly pressed the engraver's hand. "But you must know for the +future," he added in a friendly but impressive way, "that I never take +anything but money when I am dealing with these fellows. Ho, you!" he +went on, turning to the company, "some one go to uncle's and get cash +for this watch; tell him to pay conscientiously at least two thirds of +what it is worth; it is a good watch. It would cost sixty rubles to +buy. And have a bottle of champagne got ready for me at the bar, +quick! And if you don't, it will be the worse for you!" he called +after the departing Yuzitch, who came back a few minutes later, and +gave Kovroff forty rubles. Kovroff counted them, and put twenty in his +pocket, returning the remainder in silence, but with a gentlemanly +smile, to Bodlevski. + +"Fair exchange is no robbery," he said, giving Bodlevski the passport +of the college assessor's widow. "Now that old rascal Pacomius may get +to work." + +"What is there to do?" laughed Pacomius; "the passport will do very +well. So let us have a little glass, and then a little game of cards." + +"We are going to know each other better; I like your face, so I hope +we shall make friends," said Kovroff, again shaking hands with +Bodlevski. "Now let us go and have some wine. You will tell me over +our glasses what you want the passport for, and on account of your +frankness about the watch, I am well disposed to you. Lieutenant +Sergei Kovroff gives you his word of honor on that. I also can be +magnanimous," he concluded, and the new friends accompanied by the +whole gang went out to the large hall. + +There began a scene of revelry that lasted till long after midnight. +Bodlevski, feeling his side pocket to see if the passport was still +there, at last left the hall, bewildered, as though under a spell. He +felt a kind of gloomy satisfaction; he was possessed by this +satisfaction, by the uncertainty of what Natasha could have thought +out, by the question how it would all turn out, and by the conviction +that his first crime had already been committed. All these feelings +lay like lead on his heart, while in his ears resounded the wild songs +of the Cave. + + +V + +THE KEYS OF THE OLD PRINCESS + + +It was nine o'clock in the evening. Natasha lit the night lamp in the +bedroom of the old Princess Chechevinski, and went silently into the +dressing room to prepare the soothing powders which the doctors had +prescribed for her, before going to sleep. + +The old princess was still very weak. Although her periods of +unconsciousness had not returned, she was still subject to paroxysms +of hysteria. At times she sank into forgetfulness, then started +nervously, sometimes trembling in every limb. The thought of the blow +of her daughter's flight never left her for a moment. + +Natasha had just taken the place of the day nurse. It was her turn to +wait on the patient until midnight. Silence always reigned in the +house of the princess, and now that she was ill the silence was +intensified tenfold. Everyone walked on tiptoe, and spoke in whispers, +afraid even of coughing or of clinking a teaspoon on the sideboard. +The doorbells were tied in towels, and the whole street in front of +the house was thickly strewn with straw. At ten the household was +already dispersed, and preparing for sleep. Only the nurse sat +silently at the head of the old lady's bed. + +Pouring out half a glass of water, Natasha sprinkled the powder in it, +and took from the medicine chest a phial with a yellowish liquid. It +was chloral. Looking carefully round, she slowly brought the lip of +the phial down to the edge of the glass and let ten drops fall into +it. "That will be enough," she said to herself, and smiled. Her face, +as always, was coldly quiet, and not the slightest shade of any +feeling was visible on it at that moment. + +Natasha propped the old lady up with her arm. She drank the medicine +given to her and lay down again, and in a few minutes the chloral +began to have its effect. With an occasional convulsive movement of +her lower lip, she sank into a deep and heavy sleep. Natasha watched +her face following the symptoms of unconsciousness, and when she was +convinced that sleep had finally taken complete possession of her, and +that for several hours the old woman was deprived of the power to hear +anything or to wake up, she slowly moved her chair nearer the +bedstead, and without taking her quietly observant eyes from the old +woman's face, softly slipped her hand under the lower pillow. Moving +forward with the utmost care, not more than an inch or so at a time, +her hand stopped instantly, as soon as there was the slightest nervous +movement of the old woman's face, on which Natasha's eyes were fixed +immovably. But the old woman slept profoundly, and the hand again +moved forward half an inch or so under the pillow. About half an hour +passed, and the girl's eyes were still fastened on the sleeping face, +and her hand was still slipping forward under the pillow, moving +occasionally a little to one side, and feeling about for something. +Natasha's expression was in the highest degree quiet and concentrated, +but under this quietness was at the same time concealed something +else, which gave the impression that if--which Heaven forbid!--the old +woman should at that moment awake, the other free hand would instantly +seize her by the throat. + +At last the finger-ends felt something hard. "That is it!" thought +Natasha, and she held her breath. In a moment, seizing its treasure, +her hand began quietly to withdraw. Ten minutes more passed, and +Natasha finally drew out a little bag of various colored silks, in +which the old princess always kept her keys, and from which she never +parted, carrying it by day in her pocket, and by night keeping it +under her pillow. One of the keys was an ordinary one, that of her +wardrobe. The other was smaller and finely made; it was the key of her +strong box. + +About an hour later, the same keys, in the same order, and with the +same precautions, found their way back to their accustomed place under +the old lady's pillow. + +Natasha carefully wiped the glass with her handkerchief, in order that +not the least odor of chloral might remain in it, and with her usual +stillness sat out the remaining hours of her watch. + + +VI + +REVENGED + + +The old princess awoke at one o'clock the next day. The doctor was +very pleased at her long and sound sleep, the like of which the old +lady had not enjoyed since her first collapse, and which, in his view, +was certain to presage a turn for the better. + +The princess had long ago formed a habit of looking over her financial +documents, and verifying the accounts of income and expenditure. This +deep-seated habit, which had become a second nature, did not leave +her, now she was ill; at any rate, every morning, as soon as +consciousness and tranquillity returned to her, she took out the key +of her wardrobe, ordered the strong box to be brought to her, and, +sending the day nurse out of the room, gave herself up in solitude to +her beloved occupation, which had by this time become something like a +childish amusement. She drew out her bank securities, signed and +unsigned, now admiring the colored engravings on them, now sorting and +rearranging them, fingering the packets to feel their thickness, +counting them over, and several thousands in banknotes, kept in the +house in case of need, and finally carefully replaced them in the +strong box. The girl, recalled to the bedroom by the sound of the +bell, restored the strong box to its former place, and the old +princess, after this amusement, felt herself for some time quiet and +happy. + +The nurses had had the opportunity to get pretty well used to this +foible; so that the daily examination of the strong box seemed to them +a part of the order of things, something consecrated by custom. + +After taking her medicine, and having her hands and face wiped with a +towel moistened with toilet water, the princess ordered certain +prayers to be read out to her, or the chapter of the Gospel appointed +for the day, and then received her son. From the time of her +illness--that is, from the day when she signed the will making him her +sole heir--he had laid it on himself as a not altogether pleasant duty +to put in an appearance for five minutes in his mother's room, where +he showed himself a dutiful son by never mentioning his sister, but +asking tenderly after his mother's health, and finally, with a deep +sigh, gently kissing her hand, taking his departure forthwith, to sup +with some actress or to meet his companions in a wine shop. + +When he soon went away, the old lady, as was her habit, ordered her +strong box to be brought, and sent the nurse out of the room. It was a +very handsome box of ebony, with beautiful inlaid work. + +The key clicked in the lock, the spring lid sprang up, and the eyes of +the old princess became set in their sockets, full of bewilderment and +terror. Twenty-four thousand rubles in bills, which she herself with +her own hands had yesterday laid on the top of the other securities, +were no longer in the strong box. All the unsigned bank securities +were also gone. The securities in the name of her daughter Anna had +likewise disappeared. There remained only the signed securities in the +name of the old princess and her son, and a few shares of stock. In +the place of all that was gone, there lay a note directed "to Princess +Chechevinski." + +The old lady's fingers trembled so that for a long time she could not +unfold this paper. Her staring eyes wandered hither and thither as if +she had lost her senses. At last she managed somehow to unfold the +note, and began to read: + +"You cursed me, forced me to flee, and unjustly deprived me of my +inheritance. I am taking my money by force. You may inform the police, +but when you read this note, I myself and he who carried out this act +by my directions, will have left St. Petersburg forever. + +"Your daughter, + +"PRINCESS ANNA CHECHEVINSKI." + +The old lady's hands did not fall at her sides, but shifted about on +her lap as if they did not belong to her. Her wandering, senseless +eyes stopped their movements, and in them suddenly appeared an +expression of deep meaning. The old princess made a terrible, +superhuman effort to recover her presence of mind and regain command +over herself. A single faint groan broke from her breast, and her +teeth chattered. She began to look about the room for a light, but the +lamp had been extinguished; the dull gray daylight filtering through +the Venetian blinds sufficiently lit the room. Then the old lady, with +a strange, irregular movement, crushed the note together in her hand, +placed it in her mouth, and with a convulsive movement of her jaws +chewed it, trying to swallow it as quickly as possible. + +A minute passed, and the note had disappeared. The old princess closed +the strong box and rang for the day nurse. Giving her the usual order +in a quiet voice, she had still strength enough to support herself on +her elbow and watch the nurse closing the wardrobe, and then to put +the little bag with the keys back under her pillow, in its accustomed +place. Then she again ordered the nurse to go. + +When, two hours later, the doctor, coming for the third time, wished +to see his patient and entered her bedroom, he found only the old +woman's lifeless body. The blow had been too much--the daughter of the +ancient and ever honorable line of Chechevinski a fugitive and a +thief! + +Natasha had had her revenge. + + +VII + +BEYOND THE FRONTIER + + +On the morning of that same day, at nine o'clock, a well-dressed lady +presented at the Bank of Commerce a number of unsigned bank shares. At +the same time a young man, also elegantly dressed, presented a series +of signed shares, made out in the name of "Princess Anna +Chechevinski." They were properly indorsed, the signature +corresponding to that in the bank books. + +After a short interval the cashier of the bank paid over to the +well-dressed lady a hundred and fifty thousand rubles in bills, and to +the elegantly dressed young man seventy thousand rubles. The lady +signed her receipt in French, Teresa Dore; the young man signed his +name, Ivan Afonasieff, son of a merchant of Kostroma. + +A little later on the same day--namely, about two o'clock--a light +carriage carried two passengers along the Pargoloff road: a quietly +dressed young woman and a quietly dressed young man. Toward evening +these same young people were traveling in a Finnish coach by the stony +mountain road in the direction of Abo. + +Four days later the old Princess Chechevinski was buried in the Nevski +monastery. + +On his return from the monastery, young Prince Chechevinski went +straight for the strong box, which he had hitherto seen only at a +distance, and even then only rarely. He expected to find a great deal +more money in it than he found--some hundred and fifty thousand +rubles; a hundred thousand in his late mother's name, and fifty +thousand in his own. This was the personal property of the old +princess, a part of her dowry. The young prince made a wry face--the +money might last him two or three years, not more. During the lifetime +of the old princess no one had known accurately how much she +possessed, so that it never even entered the young prince's head to +ask whether she had not had more. He was so unmethodical that he never +even looked into her account book, deciding that it was uninteresting +and not worth while. + +That same day the janitor of one of the huge, dirty tenements in +Vosnesenski Prospekt brought to the police office notice of the fact +that the Pole, Kasimir Bodlevski, had left the city; and the +housekeeper of the late Princess Chechevinski informed the police that +the serf girl Natalia Pavlovna (Natasha) had disappeared without +leaving a trace, which the housekeeper now announced, as the three +days' limit had elapsed. + +At that same hour the little ship of a certain Finnish captain was +gliding down the Gulf of Bothnia. The Finn stood at the helm and his +young son handled the sails. On the deck sat a young man and a young +woman. The young woman carried, in a little bag hung round her neck, +two hundred and forty-four thousand rubles in bills, and she and her +companion carried pistols in their pockets for use in case of need. +Their passports declared that the young woman belonged to the noble +class, and was the widow of a college assessor, her name being Maria +Solontseva, while the young man was a Pole, Kasimir Bodlevski. + +The little ship was crossing the Gulf of Bothnia toward the coast of +Sweden. + + + +VIII + +BACK TO RUSSIA + + +In the year 1858, in the month of September, the "Report of the St. +Petersburg City Police" among the names of "Arrivals" included the +following: + + _Baroness van Dring, Hanoverian subject. + Ian Vladislav Karozitch, Austrian subject_. + +The persons above described might have been recognized among the +fashionable crowds which thronged the St. Petersburg terminus of +the Warsaw railway a few days before: A lady who looked not +more than thirty, though she was really thirty-eight, dressed +with simple elegance, tall and slender, admirably developed, +with beautifully clear complexion, piercing, intelligent gray eyes, +under finely outlined brows, thick chestnut hair, and a firm +mouth--almost a beauty, and with an expression of power, subtlety and +decision. "She is either a queen or a criminal," a physiognomist would +have said after observing her face. A gentleman with a red beard, whom +the lady addressed as "brother," not less elegantly dressed, and with +the same expression of subtlety and decision. They left the station in +a hired carriage, and drove to Demuth's Hotel. + +Before narrating the adventures of these distinguished persons, let us +go back twenty years, and ask what became of Natasha and Bodlevski. +When last we saw them the ship that carried them away from Russia was +gliding across the Gulf of Bothnia toward the Swedish coast. Late in +the evening it slipped into the port of Stockholm, and the worthy +Finn, winding in and out among the heavy hulls in the harbor--he was +well used to the job--landed his passengers on the wharf at a lonely +spot near a lonely inn, where the customs officers rarely showed their +noses. Bodlevski, who had beforehand got ready the very modest sum to +pay for their passage, with pitiable looks and gestures and the few +Russian phrases the good Finn could understand, assured him that he +was a very poor man, and could not even pay the sum agreed on in full. +The deficit was inconsiderable, some two rubles in all, and the good +Finn was magnanimous; he slapped his passenger on the shoulder, called +him a "good comrade," declared that he would not press a poor man, and +would always be ready to do him a service. He even found quarters for +Bodlevski and Natasha in the inn, under his protection. The Finn was +indeed a very honest smuggler. On the next morning, bidding a final +farewell to their nautical friend, our couple made their way to the +office of the British Consul, and asked for an opportunity to speak +with him. At this point Natasha played the principal rle. + +"My husband is a Pole," said the handsome girl, taking a seat opposite +the consul in his private office, "and I myself am Russian on the +father's side, but my mother was English. My husband is involved in a +political enterprise; he was liable to transportation to Siberia, but +a chance made it possible for us to escape while the police were on +their way to arrest him. We are now political fugitives, and we +intrust our lives to the protection of English law. Be generous, +protect us, and send us to England!" + +The ruse, skillfully planned and admirably presented, was completely +successful, and two or three days later the first passenger ship under +the English flag carried the happy couple to London. + +Bodlevski destroyed his own passport and that of the college +assessor's widow, Maria Solontseva, which Natasha had needed as a +precaution while still on Russian soil. When they got to England, it +would be much handier to take new names. But with their new position +and these new names a great difficulty presented itself: they could +find no suitable outlet for their capital without arousing very +dangerous suspicions. The many-sided art of the London rogues is known +to all the world; in their club, Bodlevski, who had lost no time in +making certain pleasant and indispensable acquaintances there, soon +succeeded in getting for himself and Natasha admirably counterfeited +new passports, once more with new names and occupations. With these, +in a short time, they found their way to the Continent. They both felt +the full force of youth and a passionate desire to live and enjoy +life; in their hot heads hummed many a golden hope and plan; they +wished, to begin with, to invest their main capital somewhere, and +then to travel over Europe, and to choose a quiet corner somewhere +where they could settle down to a happy life. + +Perhaps all this might have happened if it had not been for cards and +roulette and the perpetual desire of increasing their capital--for the +worthy couple fell into the hands of a talented company, whose agents +robbed them at Frascati's in Paris, and again in Hamburg and various +health resorts, so that hardly a year had passed when Bodlevski one +fine night woke up to the fact that they no longer possessed a ruble. +But they had passed a brilliant year, their arrival in the great +cities had had its effect, and especially since Natasha had become a +person of title; in the course of the year she succeeded in purchasing +an Austrian barony at a very reasonable figure--a barony which, of +course, only existed on paper. + +When all his money was gone, there was nothing left for Bodlevski but +to enroll himself a member of the company which had so successfully +accomplished the transfer of his funds to their own pockets. Natasha's +beauty and Bodlevski's brains were such strong arguments that the +company willingly accepted them as new recruits. The two paid dear for +their knowledge, it is true, but their knowledge presently began to +bear fruit in considerable abundance. Day followed day, and year +succeeded year, a long series of horribly anxious nights, violent +feelings, mental perturbations, crafty and subtle schemes, a complete +cycle of rascalities, an entire science of covering up tracks, and the +perpetual shadow of justice, prison, and perhaps the scaffold. +Bodlevski, with his obstinate, persistent, and concentrated character, +reached the highest skill in card-sharping and the allied wiles. All +games of "chance" were for him games of skill. At thirty he looked at +least ten years older. The life he led, with its ceaseless effort, +endless mental work, perpetual anxiety, had made of him a fanatical +worshiper at the shrine of trickery. He dried up visibly in body and +grew old in mind, mastering all the difficult arts of his profession, +and only gained confidence and serenity when he had reached the +highest possible skill in every branch of his "work." From that moment +he took a new lease of life; he grew younger, he became gay and +self-confident, his health even visibly improved, and he assumed the +air and manner of a perfect gentleman. + +As for Natasha, her life and efforts in concert with Bodlevski by no +means had the same wearing effect on her as on him. Her proud, decided +nature received all these impressions quite differently. She continued +to blossom out, to grow handsomer, to enjoy life, to take hearts +captive. All the events which aroused so keen a mental struggle in her +companion she met with entire equanimity. The reason was this: When +she made up her mind to anything, she always decided at once and with +unusual completeness; a very short time given to keen and accurate +consideration, a rapid weighing of the gains and losses of the matter +in hand, and then she went forward coldly and unswervingly on her +chosen path. Her first aim in life had been revenge, then a brilliant +and luxurious life--and she knew that they would cost dear. Therefore, +once embarked on her undertaking, Natasha remained calm and +indifferent, brilliantly distinguished, and ensnaring the just and the +unjust alike. Her intellect, education, skill, resource, and innate +tact made it possible for her everywhere to gain a footing in select +aristocratic society, and to play by no means the least rle there. +Many beauties envied her, detested her, spoke evil of her, and yet +sought her friendship, because she almost always queened it in +society. Her friendship and sympathy always seemed so cordial, so +sincere and tender, and her epigrams were so pointed and poisonous, +that every hostile criticism seemed to shrivel up in that glittering +fire, and there seemed to be nothing left but to seek her friendship +and good will. For instance, if things went well in Baden, one could +confidently foretell that at the end of the summer season Natasha +would be found in Nice or Geneva, queen of the winter season, the +lioness of the day, and the arbiter of fashion. She and Bodlevski +always behaved with such propriety and watchful care that not a shadow +ever fell on Natasha's fame. It is true that Bodlevski had to change +his name once or twice and to seek a new field for his talents, and to +make sudden excursions to distant corners of Europe--sometimes in +pursuit of a promising "job," sometimes to evade the too persistent +attentions of the police. So far everything had turned out favorably, +and his name "had remained unstained," when suddenly a slight mishap +befell. The matter was a trifling one, but the misfortune was that it +happened in Paris. There was a chance that it might find issue in the +courts and the hulks, so that there ensued a more than ordinarily +rapid change of passports and a new excursion--this time to Russia, +back to their native land again, after an absence of twenty years. +Thus it happened that the papers announced the arrival in St. +Petersburg of Baroness von Dring and Ian Vladislav Karozitch. + + + +IX + +THE CONCERT OF THE POWERS + + +A few days after there was a brilliant reunion at Princess +Shadursky's. All the beauty and fashion of St. Petersburg were +invited, and few who were invited failed to come. It happened that +Prince Shadursky was an admirer of the fair sex, and also that he had +had the pleasure of meeting the brilliant Baroness von Dring at +Hamburg, and again in Paris. It was, therefore, to be expected that +Baroness von Dring should be found in the midst of an admiring throng +at Princess Shadursky's reception. Her brother, Ian Karozitch, was +also there, suave, alert, dignified, losing no opportunity to make +friends with the distinguished company that thronged the prince's +rooms. + +Late in the evening the baroness and her brother might have been seen +engaged in a _tte--tte_, seated in two comfortable armchairs, and +anyone who was near enough might have heard the following +conversation: + +"How goes it?" Karozitch asked in a low tone. + +"As you see, I am making a hit," answered the baroness in the same +quiet tone. But her manner was so detached and indifferent that no one +could have guessed her remark was of the least significance. It should +be noted that this was her first official presentation to St. +Petersburg society. And in truth her beauty, united with her lively +intellect, her amiability, and her perfect taste in dress, had +produced a general and even remarkable effect. People talked about her +and became interested in her, and her first evening won her several +admirers among those well placed in society. + +"I have been paying attention to the solid capitalists," replied +Karozitch; "we have made our _dbut_ in the _rle_ of practical +actors. Well, what about him?" he continued, indicating Prince +Shadursky with his eyes. + +"In the web," she replied, with a subtle smile. + +"Then we can soon suck his brains?" + +"Soon--but he must be tied tighter first. But we must not talk here." +A moment later Karozitch and the baroness were in the midst of the +brilliant groups of guests. + +A few late comers were still arriving. "Count Kallash!" announced the +footman, who stood at the chief entrance to the large hall. + +At this new and almost unknown but high-sounding name, many eyes were +turned toward the door through which the newcomer must enter. A hum of +talk spread among the guests: + +"Count Kallash----" + +"Who is he----?" + +"It is a Hungarian name--I think I heard of him somewhere." + +"Is this his first appearance?" + +"Who is this Kallash? Oh, yes, one of the old Hungarian families----" + +"How interesting----" + +Such questions and answers crossed each other in a running fire among +the various groups of guests who filled the hall, when a young man +appeared in the doorway. + +He lingered a moment to glance round the rooms and the company; then, +as if conscious of the remarks and glances directed toward him, but +completely "ignoring" them, and without the least shyness or +awkwardness, he walked quietly through the hall to the host and +hostess of the evening. + +People of experience, accustomed to society and the ways of the great +world, can often decide from the first minute the _rle_ which anyone +is likely to play among them. People of experience, at the first view +of this young man, at his first entrance, merely by the way he entered +the hall, decided that his _rle_ in society would be brilliant--that +more than one feminine heart would beat faster for his presence, that +more than one dandy's wrath would be kindled by his successes. + +"How handsome he is!" a whisper went round among the ladies. The men +for the most part remained silent. A few twisted the ends of their +mustache and made as though they had not noticed him. This was already +enough to foreshadow a brilliant career. + +And indeed Count Kallash could not have passed unnoticed, even among a +thousand young men of his class. Tall and vigorous, wonderfully well +proportioned, he challenged comparison with Antinos. His pale face, +tanned by the sun, had an expression almost of weariness. His high +forehead, with clustering black hair and sharply marked brows, bore +the impress of passionate feeling and turbulent thought strongly +repressed. It was difficult to define the color of his deep-set, +somewhat sunken eyes, which now flashed with southern fire, and were +now veiled, so that one seemed to be looking into an abyss. A slight +mustache and pointed beard partly concealed the ironical smile that +played on his passionate lips. The natural grace of good manners and +quiet but admirably cut clothes completed the young man's exterior, +behind which, in spite of all his reticence, could be divined a +haughty and exceptional nature. A more profound psychologist would +have seen in him an obstinately passionate, ungrateful nature, which +takes from others everything it desires, demanding it from them as a +right and without even a nod of acknowledgment. Such was Count +Nicholas Kallash. + +A few days after the reception at Prince Shadursky's Baroness von +Dring was installed in a handsome apartment on Mokhovoi Street, at +which her "brother," Ian Karozitch, or, to give him his former name, +Bodlevski, was a frequent visitor. By a "lucky accident" he had met on +the day following the reception our old friend Sergei Antonovitch +Kovroff, the "captain of the Golden Band." Their recognition was +mutual, and, after a more or less faithful recital of the events of +the intervening years, they had entered into an offensive and +defensive alliance. + +When Baroness von Dring was comfortably settled in her new quarters, +Sergei Antonovitch brought a visitor to Bodlevski: none other than the +Hungarian nobleman, Count Nicholas Kallash. + +"_Gentlemen, you are strangers_; let me introduce you to each other," +said Kovroff, presenting Count Kallash to Bodlevski. + +"Very glad to know you," answered the Hungarian count, to Bodlevski's +astonishment in Russian; "very glad, indeed! I have several times had +the honor of hearing of you. Was it not you who had some trouble about +forged notes in Paris?" + +"Oh, no! You are mistaken, dear count!" answered Bodlevski, with a +pleasant smile. "The matter was not of the slightest importance. The +amount was a trifle and I was unwilling even to appear in court!" + +"You preferred a little journey to Russia, didn't you?" Kovroff +remarked with a smile. + +"Little vexations of that kind may happen to anyone," said Bodlevski, +ignoring Kovroff's interruption. "You yourself, dear count, had some +trouble about some bonds, if I am not mistaken?" + +"You are mistaken," the count interrupted him sharply. "I have had +various troubles, but I prefer not to talk about them." + +"Gentlemen," interrupted Kovroff, "we did not come here to quarrel, +but to talk business. Our good friend, Count Kallash," he went on, +turning to Bodlevski, "wishes to have the pleasure of cooperating in +our common undertaking, and--I can recommend him very highly." + +"Ah!" said Bodlevski, after a searching study of the count's face. "I +understand! the baroness will return in a few minutes and then we can +discuss matters at our leisure." + +But in spite of this understanding it was evident that Bodlevski and +Count Kallash had not impressed each other very favorably. This, +however, did not prevent the concert of the powers from working +vigorously together. + + +X + +AN UNEXPECTED REUNION + + +On the wharf of the Fontauka, not far from Simeonovski Bridge, a crowd +was gathered. In the midst of the crowd a dispute raged between an old +woman, tattered, disheveled, miserable, and an impudent-looking youth. +The old woman was evidently stupid from misery and destitution. + +While the quarrel raged a new observer approached the crowd. He was +walking leisurely, evidently without an aim and merely to pass the +time, so it is not to be wondered at that the loud dispute arrested +his attention. + +"Who are you, anyway, you old hag? What is your name?" cried the +impudent youth. + +"My name? My name?" muttered the old woman in confusion. "I am a--I am +a princess," and she blinked at the crowd. + +Everyone burst out laughing. "Her Excellency, the Princess! Make way +for the Princess!" cried the youth. + +The old woman burst into sudden anger. + +"Yes, I tell you, I am a princess by birth!" and her eyes flashed as +she tried to draw herself up and impose on the bantering crowd. + +"Princess What? Princess Which? Princess How?" cried the impudent +youth, and all laughed loudly. + +"No! Not Princess How!" answered the old woman, losing the last shred +of self-restraint; "but Princess Che-che-vin-ski! Princess Anna +Chechevinski!" + +When he heard this name Count Kallash started and his whole expression +changed. He grew suddenly pale, and with a vigorous effort pushed his +way through the crowd to the miserable old woman's side. + +"Come!" he said, taking her by the arm. "Come with me! I have +something for you!" + +"Something for me?" answered the old woman, looking up with stupid +inquiry and already forgetting the existence of the impudent youth. +"Yes, I'll come! What have you got for me?" + +Count Kallash led her by the arm out of the crowd, which began to +disperse, abashed by his appearance and air of determination. +Presently he hailed a carriage, and putting the old woman in, ordered +the coachman to drive to his rooms. + +There he did his best to make the miserable old woman comfortable, and +his housekeeper presently saw that she was washed and fed, and soon +the old woman was sleeping in the housekeeper's room. + +To explain this extraordinary event we must go back twenty years. + +In 1838 Princess Anna Chechevinski, then in her twenty-sixth year, had +defied her parents, thrown to the winds the traditions of her princely +race, and fled with the man of her choice, followed by her mother's +curses and the ironical congratulations of her brother, who thus +became sole heir. + +After a year or two she was left alone by the death of her companion, +and step by step she learned all the lessons of sorrow. From one stage +of misfortune to another she gradually fell into the deepest misery, +and had become a poor old beggar in the streets when Count Kallash +came so unexpectedly to her rescue. + +It will be remembered that, as a result of Natasha's act of vengeance, +the elder Princess Chechevinski left behind her only a fraction of the +money her son expected to inherit. And this fraction he by no means +hoarded, but with cynical disregard of the future he poured money out +like water, gambling, drinking, plunging into every form of +dissipation. Within a few months his entire inheritance was +squandered. + +Several years earlier Prince Chechevinski had taken a deep interest in +conjuring and had devoted time and care to the study of various forms +of parlor magic. He had even paid considerable sums to traveling +conjurers in exchange for their secrets. Naturally gifted, he had +mastered some of the most difficult tricks, and his skill in card +conjuring would not have done discredit even to a professional +magician. + +The evening when his capital had almost melted away and the shadow of +ruin lay heavy upon him, he happened to be present at a reception +where card play was going on and considerable sums were staked. + +A vacancy at one of the tables could not be filled, and, in spite of +his weak protest of unwillingness, Prince Chechevinski was pressed +into service. He won for the first few rounds, and then began to lose, +till the amount of his losses far exceeded the slender remainder of +his capital. A chance occurred where, by the simple expedient of +neutralizing the cut, mere child's play for one so skilled in +conjuring, he was able to turn the scale in his favor, winning back in +a single game all that he had already lost. He had hesitated for a +moment, feeling the abyss yawning beneath him; then he had falsed, +made the pass, and won the game. That night he swore to himself that +he would never cheat again, never again be tempted to dishonor his +birth; and he kept his oath till his next run of bad luck, when he +once more neutralized the cut and turned the "luck" in his direction. + +The result was almost a certainty from the outset, Prince Chechevinski +became a habitual card sharper. + +For a long time fortune favored him. His mother's reputation for +wealth, the knowledge that he was her sole heir, the high position of +the family, shielded him from suspicion. Then came the thunderclap. He +was caught in the act of "dealing a second" in the English Club, and +driven from the club as a blackleg. Other reverses followed: a public +refusal on the part of an officer to play cards with him, followed by +a like refusal to give him satisfaction in a duel; a second occasion +in which he was caught redhanded; a criminal trial; six years in +Siberia. After two years he escaped by way of the Chinese frontier, +and months after returned to Europe. For two years he practiced his +skill at Constantinople. Then he made his way to Buda-Pesth, then to +Vienna. While in the dual monarchy, he had come across a +poverty-stricken Magyar noble, named Kallash, whom he had sheltered in +a fit of generous pity, and who had died in his room at the Golden +Eagle Inn. Prince Chechevinski, who had already borne many aliases, +showed his grief at the old Magyar's death by adopting his name and +title; hence it was that he presented himself in St. Petersburg in the +season of 1858 under the high-sounding title of Count Kallash. + +An extraordinary coincidence, already described, had brought him face +to face with his sister Anna, whom he had never even heard of in all +the years since her flight. He found her now, poverty-stricken, +prematurely old, almost demented, and, though he had hated her +cordially in days gone by, his pity was aroused by her wretchedness, +and he took her to his home, clothed and fed her, and surrounded her +with such comforts as his bachelor apartment offered. + +In the days that followed, every doubt he might have had as to her +identity was dispelled. She talked freely of their early childhood, of +their father's death, of their mother; she even spoke of her brother's +coldness and hostility in terms which drove away the last shadow of +doubt whether she was really his sister. But at first he made no +corresponding revelations, remaining for her only Count Kallash. + + +XI + +THE PHOTOGRAPH ALBUM + + +Little by little, however, as the poor old woman recovered something +of health and strength, his heart went out toward her. Telling her +only certain incidents of his life, he gradually brought the narrative +back to the period, twenty years before, immediately after their +mother's death, and at last revealed himself to his sister, after +making her promise secrecy as to his true name. Thus matters went on +for nearly two years. + +The broken-down old woman lived in his rooms in something like +comfort, and took pleasure in dusting and arranging his things. One +day, when she was tidying the sitting room, her brother was startled +by a sudden exclamation, almost a cry, which broke from his sister's +lips. + +"Oh, heaven, it is she!" she cried, her eyes fixed on a page of the +photograph album she had been dusting. "Brother, come here; for +heaven's sake, who is this?" + +"Baroness von Dring," curtly answered Kallash, glancing quickly at +the photograph. "What do you find interesting in her?" + +"It is either she or her double! Do you know who she looks like?" + +"Lord only knows! Herself, perhaps!" + +"No, she has a double! I am sure of it! Do you remember, at mother's, +my maid Natasha?" + +"Natasha?" the count considered, knitting his brows in the effort to +recollect. + +"Yes, Natasha, my maid. A tall, fair girl. A thick tress of chestnut +hair. She had such beautiful hair! And her lips had just the same +proud expression. Her eyes were piercing and intelligent, her brows +were clearly marked and joined together--in a word, the very original +of this photograph!" + +"Ah," slowly and quietly commented the count, pressing his hand to his +brow. "Exactly. Now I remember! Yes, it is a striking likeness." + +"But look closely," cried the old woman excitedly; "it is the living +image of Natasha! Of course she is more matured, completely developed. +How old is the baroness?" + +"She must be approaching forty. But she doesn't look her age; you +would imagine her to be about thirty-two from her appearance." + +"There! And Natasha would be just forty by now!" + +"The ages correspond," answered her brother. + +"Yes." Princess Anna sighed sadly. "Twenty-two years have passed since +then. But if I met her face to face I think I would recognize her at +once. Tell me, who is she?" + +"The baroness? How shall I tell you? She has been abroad for twenty +years, and for the last two years she has lived here. In society she +says she is a foreigner, but with me she is franker, and I know that +she speaks Russian perfectly. She declares that her husband is +somewhere in Germany, and that she lives here with her brother." + +"Who is the 'brother'?" asked the old princess curiously. + +"The deuce knows! He is also a bit shady. Oh, yes! Sergei Kovroff +knows him; he told me something about their history; he came here with +a forged passport, under the name of Vladislav Karozitch, but his real +name is Kasimir Bodlevski." + +"Kasimir Bodlevski," muttered the old woman, knitting her brows. "Was +he not once a lithographer or an engraver, or something of the sort?" + +"I think he was. I think Kovroff said something about it. He is a fine +engraver still." + +"He was? Well, there you are!" and Princess Anna rose quickly from her +seat. "It is she--it is Natasha! She used to tell me she had a +sweetheart, a Polish hero, Bodlevski. And I think his name was +Kasimir. She often got my permission to slip out to visit him; she +said he worked for a lithographer, and always begged me to persuade +mother to liberate her from serfdom, so that she could marry him." + +This unexpected discovery meant much to Kallash. Circumstances, +hitherto slight and isolated, suddenly gained a new meaning, and were +lit up in a way that made him almost certain of the truth. He now +remembered that Kovroff had once told him of his first acquaintance +with Bodlevski, when he came on the Pole at the Cave, arranging for a +false passport; he remembered that Natasha had disappeared immediately +before the death of the elder Princess Chechevinski, and he also +remembered how, returning from the cemetery, he had been cruelly +disappointed in his expectations when he had found in the strong box a +sum very much smaller than he had always counted on, and with some +foundation; and before him, with almost complete certainty, appeared +the conclusion that the maid's disappearance was connected with the +theft of his mother's money, and especially of the securities in his +sister's name, and that all this was nothing but the doing of Natasha +and her companion Bodlevski. + +"Very good! Perhaps this information will come in handy!" he said to +himself, thinking over his future measures and plans. "Let us see--let +us feel our way--perhaps it is really so! But I must go carefully and +keep on my guard, and the whole thing is in my hands, dear baroness! +We will spin a thread from you before all is over." + + +XII + +THE BARONESS AT HOME + + +Every Wednesday Baroness von Dring received her intimate friends. She +did not care for rivals, and therefore ladies were not invited to +these evenings. The intimate circle of the baroness consisted of our +Knights of Industry and the "pigeons" of the bureaucracy, the world of +finance, the aristocracy, which were the objects of the knights' +desires. + +It often happened, however, that the number of guests at these +intimate evenings went as high as fifty, and sometimes even more. + +The baroness was passionately fond of games of chance, and always sat +down to the card table with enthusiasm. But as this was done +conspicuously, in sight of all her guests, the latter could not fail +to note that fortune obstinately turned away from the baroness. She +almost never won on the green cloth; sometimes Kovroff won, sometimes +Kallash, sometimes Karozitch, but with the slight difference that the +last won more seldom and less than the other two. + +Thus every Wednesday a considerable sum found its way from the +pocketbook of the baroness into that of one of her colleagues, to find +its way back again the next morning. The purpose of this clever scheme +was that the "pigeons" who visited the luxurious salons of the +baroness, and whose money paid the expenses of these salons, should +not have the smallest grounds for suspicion that the dear baroness's +apartment was nothing but a den of sharpers. Her guests all considered +her charming, to begin with, and also rich and independent and +passionate by nature. This explained her love of play and the +excitement it brought, and which she would not give up, in spite of +her repeated heavy losses. + +Her colleagues, the Knights of Industry, acted on a carefully devised +and rigidly followed plan. They were far from putting their uncanny +skill in motion every Wednesday. So long as they had no big game in +sight, the game remained clean and honest. In this way the band might +lose two or three thousand rubles, but such a loss had no great +importance, and was soon made up when some fat "pigeon" appeared. + +It sometimes happened that this wily scheme of honest play went on for +five or six weeks in succession, so that the small fry, winning the +band's money, remained entirely convinced that it was playing in an +honorable and respectable private house, and very naturally spread +abroad the fame of it throughout the whole city. But when the fat +pigeon at last appeared, the band put forth all its forces, all the +wiles of the black art, and in a few hours made up for the generous +losses of a month of honorable and irreproachable play on the green +cloth. + +Midnight was approaching. + +The baroness's rooms were brilliantly lit up, but, thanks to the thick +curtains which covered the windows, the lights could not be seen from +the street, though several carriages were drawn up along the sidewalk. + +Opening into the elegant drawing-room was a not less elegant card +room, appreciatively nicknamed the Inferno by the band. In it stood a +large table with a green cloth, on which lay a heap of bank notes and +two little piles of gold, before which sat Sergei Antonovitch Kovroff, +presiding over the bank with the composure of a true gentleman. + +What Homeric, Jovine calm rested on every feature of his face! What +charming, fearless self-assurance, what noble self-confidence in his +smile, in his glance! What grace, what distinction in his pose, and +especially in the hand which dealt the cards! Sergei Kovroff's hands +were decidedly worthy of attention. They were almost always clad in +new gloves, which he only took off on special occasions, at dinner, or +when he had some writing to do, or when he sat down to a game of +cards. As a result, his hands were almost feminine in their delicacy, +the sensibility of the finger tips had reached an extraordinary degree +of development, equal to that of one born blind. And those fingers +were skillful, adroit, alert, their every movement carried out with +that smooth, indefinable grace which is almost always possessed by the +really high-class card sharper. His fingers were adorned with numerous +rings, in which sparkled diamonds and other precious stones. And it +was not for nothing that Sergei Kovroff took pride in them! This +glitter of diamonds, scattering rainbow rays, dazzled the eyes of his +fellow players. When Sergei Kovroff sat down to preside over the bank, +the sparkling of the diamonds admirably masked those motions of his +fingers which needed to be masked; they almost insensibly drew away +the eyes of the players from his fingers, and this was most of all +what Sergei Kovroff desired. + +Round the table about thirty guests were gathered. Some of them sat, +but most of them played standing, with anxious faces, feverishly +sparkling eyes, and breathing heavily and unevenly. Some were pale, +some flushed, and all watched with passionate eagerness the fall of +the cards. There were also some who had perfect command of themselves, +distinguished by extraordinary coolness, and jesting lightly whether +they lost or won. But such happily constituted natures are always a +minority when high play is going on. + +Silence reigned in the Inferno. There was almost no conversation; only +once in a while was heard a remark, in a whisper or an undertone, +addressed by a player to his neighbor; the only sound was that short, +dry rustle of the cards and the crackling of new bank notes, or the +tinkle of gold coins making their way round the table from the bank to +the players, and from the players back to the bank. + +The two Princes Shadursky, father and son, both lost heavily. They sat +opposite Sergei Kovroff, and between them sat Baroness von Dring, who +played in alliance with them. The clever Natasha egged them on, +kindling their excitement with all the skill and calculation possible +to one whose blood was as cold as the blood of a fish, and both the +Shadurskys had lost their heads, no longer knowing how much they were +losing. + + +XIII + +AN EXPLANATION + + +Count Kallash and his sister had just breakfasted when the count's +French footman entered the study. + +"Madame la baronne von Dring!" he announced obsequiously. + +Brother and sister exchanged a rapid glance. + +"Now is our opportunity to make sure," said Kallash, with a smile. + +"If it is she, I shall recognize her by her voice," whispered Princess +Anna. "Shall I remain here or go?" + +"Remain in the meantime; it will be a curious experience. _Faites +entrer_!" he added to the footman. + +A moment later light, rapid footsteps were heard in the entrance hall, +and the rustling of a silk skirt. + +"How do you do, count! I have come to see you for a moment. I came in +all haste, on purpose. I have come _in person_, you must be duly +appreciative! Vladislav is too busy, and the matter is an important +one. I wanted to see you at the earliest opportunity. Well, we may all +congratulate ourselves. Fate and fortune are decidedly on our side!" +said the baroness, speaking rapidly, as she entered the count's study. + +"What has happened? What is the news?" asked the count, going forward +to meet her. + +"We have learned that the Shadurskys have just received a large sum of +money; they have sold an estate, and the purchaser has paid them in +cash. Our opportunity has come. Heaven forbid that we should lose it! +We must devise a plan to make the most of it." + +The baroness suddenly stopped short in the middle of the sentence, and +became greatly confused, noticing that there was a third person +present. + +"Forgive me! I did not give you warning," said the count, shrugging +his shoulders and smiling; "permit me! _Princess Anna Chechevinski!_" +he continued with emphasis, indicating his poor, decrepit sister. "Of +course you would not have recognized her, baroness." + +"But _I_ recognized Natasha immediately," said the old woman quietly, +her eyes still fixed on Natasha's face. + +The baroness suddenly turned as white as a sheet, and with trembling +hands caught the back of a heavy armchair. + +Kallash with extreme politeness assisted her to a seat. + +"You didn't expect to meet me, Natasha?" said the old woman gently and +almost caressingly, approaching her. + +"I do not know you. Who are you?" the baroness managed to whisper, by +a supreme effort. + +"No wonder; I am so changed," replied Princess Anna. "But _you_ are +just the same. There is hardly any change at all." + +Natasha began to recover her composure. + +"I don't understand you," she said coldly, contracting her brows. + +"But I understand _you_ perfectly." + +"Allow me, princess," Kallash interrupted her, "permit me to have an +explanation with the baroness; she and I know each other well. And if +you will pardon me, I shall ask you in the meantime to withdraw." + +And he courteously conducted his sister to the massive oak doors, +which closed solidly after her. + +"What does this mean?" said the baroness, rising angrily, her gray +eyes flashing at the count from under her broad brows. + +"A coincidence," answered Kallash, shrugging his shoulders with an +ironical smile. + +"How a coincidence? Speak clearly!" + +"The former mistress has recognized her former maid--that is all." + +"How does this woman come to be here? Who is she?" + +"I have told you already; Princess Anna Chechevinski. And as to how +she came here, that was also a coincidence, and a strange one." + +"Impossible!" exclaimed the baroness. + +"Why impossible? They say the dead sometimes return from the tomb, and +the princess is still alive. And why should the matter not have +happened thus, for instance? Princess Anna Chechevinski's maid Natasha +took advantage of the confidence and illness of the elder princess to +steal from her strong box, with the aid of her sweetheart, Kasimir +Bodlevski, money and securities--mark this, baroness--securities in +the name of Princess Anna. And might it not happen that this same +lithographer Bodlevski should get false passports at the Cave, for +himself and his sweetheart, and flee with her across the frontier, and +might not this same maid, twenty years later, return to Russia under +the name of Baroness von Dring? You must admit that there is nothing +fantastic in all this! What is the use of concealing? You see I know +everything!" + +"And what follows from all this?" replied the baroness with a forced +smile of contempt. + +"Much _may_ follow from it," significantly but quietly replied +Kallash. "But at present the only important matter is, that I know +all. I repeat it--_all_." + +"Where are your facts?" asked the baroness. + +"Facts? Hm!" laughed Kallash. "If facts are needed, they will be +forthcoming. Believe me, dear baroness, that if I had not legally +sufficient facts in my hands, I would not have spoken to you of this." + +Kallash lied, but lied with the most complete appearance of +probability. + +The baroness again grew confused and turned white. + +"Where are your facts? Put them in my hands!" she said at last, after +a prolonged silence. + +"Oh, this is too much! Get hold of them yourself!" the count replied, +with the same smile. "The facts are generally set forth to the +prisoner by the court; but it is enough for you in the meantime to +know that the facts exist, and that they are in my possession. +Believe, if you wish. If you do not wish, do not believe. I will +neither persuade you nor dissuade you." + +"And this means that I am in your power? she said slowly, raising her +piercing glance to his face. + +"Yes; it means that you are in my power," quietly and confidently +answered Count Kallash. + +"But you forget that you and I are in the same boat." + +"You mean that I am a sharper, like you and Bodlevski? Well, you are +right. We are all berries of the same bunch--except _her_" (and he +indicated the folding doors). "She, thanks to many things, has tasted +misery, but she is honest. But we are all rascals, and I first of all. +You are perfectly right in that. If you wish to get me in your +power--try to find some facts against me. Then we shall be quits!" + +"And what is it you wish?" + +"It is too late for justice, at least so far as she is concerned," +replied the count, with a touch of sadness; "but it is not too late +for a measure of reparation. But we can discuss that later," he went +on more lightly, as if throwing aside the heavy impression produced by +the thought of Princess Anna's misery. "And now, dear baroness, let us +return to business, the business of Prince Shadursky! I will think the +matter over, and see whether anything suggests itself." + +He courteously conducted the baroness to the carriage, and they +parted, to all appearance, friends. But there were dangerous elements +for both in that seeming friendship. + + +XIV + +GOLD MINING + + +A wonderful scheme was hatched in Count Kallash's fertile brain. +Inspired by the thought of Prince Shadursky's newly replenished +millions, he devised a plan for the gang which promised brilliant +results, and only needed the aid of a discreet and skillful +confederate. And what confederate could be more trustworthy than +Sergei Antonovitch Kovroff? So the two friends were presently to be +found in secret consultation in the count's handsome study, with a +bottle of good Rhine wine before them, fine cigars between their lips, +and the memory of a well-served breakfast lingering pleasantly in +their minds. They were talking about the new resources of the +Shadurskys. + +"To take their money at cards--what a wretched business--and so +infernally commonplace," said Count Kallash. "To tell you the truth, I +have for a long time been sick of cards! And, besides, time is money! +Why should we waste several weeks, or even months, over something that +could be done in a few days?" + +Kovroff agreed completely, but at the same time put the question, if +not cards, what plan was available? + +"That is it exactly!" cried Kallash, warming up. "I have thought it +all over. The problem is this: we must think up something that would +surprise Satan himself, something that would make all Hades smile and +blow us hot kisses. But what of Hades?--that's all nonsense. We must +do something that will make the whole Golden Band throw up their caps. +That is what we have to do!" + +"Quite a problem," lazily answered Kovroff, chewing the end of his +cigar. "But you are asking too much." + +"But that is not all," the count interrupted him; "listen! This is +what my problem demands. We must think of some project that unites two +precious qualities: first, a rapid and huge profit; second, entire +absence of risk." + +"Conditions not altogether easy to fulfill," remarked Kovroff +doubtfully. + +"So it seems. And daring plans are not to be picked up in the street, +but are the result of inspiration. It is what is called a 'heavenly +gift,' my dear friend." + +"And you have had an inspiration?" smiled Sergei Antonovitch, with a +slightly ironical shade of friendly skepticism. + +"I have had an inspiration," replied the supposititious Hungarian +nobleman, falling into the other's tone. + +"And your muse is----?" + +"The tenth of the muses," the count interrupted him: "another name is +Industry." + +"She is the muse of all of us." + +"And mine in particular. But we are not concerned with her, but with +her prophetic revelations." + +"Oh, dear count! Circumlocutions apart! This Rhine wine evidently +carries you to misty Germany. Tell me simply what the matter is." + +"The matter is simply this: we must institute a society of 'gold +miners,' and we must find gold in places where the geological +indications are dead against it. That is the problem. The Russian +laws, under threat of arrest and punishment, sternly forbid the +citizens of the Russian Empire, and likewise the citizens of other +lands within the empire, to buy or sell the noble metals in their +crude form, that is, in nuggets, ore, or dust. For example, if you +bought gold in the rough from me--gold dust, for example--we should +both, according to law, have to take a pleasant little trip beyond the +Ural Mountains to Siberia, and there we should have to engage in +mining the precious metal ourselves. A worthy occupation, no doubt, +but not a very profitable one for us." + +"Our luxuries would be strictly limited," jested Kovroff, with a wry +smile. + +"There it is! You won't find many volunteers for that occupation, and +that is the fulcrum of my whole plan. You must understand that gold +dust in the mass is practically indistinguishable in appearance from +brass filings. Let us suppose that we secretly sell some perfectly +pure brass filings for gold dust, and that they are readily bought of +us, because we sell considerably below the market rate. It goes +without saying that the purchaser will presently discover that we have +done him brown. But, I ask you, will he go and accuse us knowing that, +as the penalty for his purchase, he will have to accompany us along +the Siberian road?" + +"No man is his own enemy," sententiously replied Kovroff, beginning to +take a vivid interest in what his companion was saying. "But how are +you going to work it?" + +"You will know at the proper time. The chief thing is, that our +problem is solved in the most decisive manner. You and I are pretty +fair judges of human nature, so we may be pretty sure that we shall +always find purchasers, and I suggest that we make a beginning on +young Prince Shadursky. How we shall get him into it is my business. +I'll tell you later on. But how do you like the general idea of my +plan?" + +"It's clever enough!" cried Kovroff, pressing his hand with the gay +enthusiasm of genuine interest. + +"For this truth much thanks!" cried Kallash, clinking glasses with +him. "It is clever--that is the best praise I could receive from you. +Let us drink to the success of my scheme!" + + +XV + +THE FISH BITES + + +Three days after this conversation the younger prince Shadursky dined +with Sergei Antonovitch Kovroff. + +That morning he received a note from Kovroff, in which the worthy +Sergei complained of ill health and begged the prince to come and dine +with him and cheer him up. + +The prince complied with his request, and appearing at the appointed +time found Count Kallash alone with his host. + +Among other gossip, the prince announced that he expected shortly to +go to Switzerland, as he had bad reports of the health of his mother, +who was in Geneva. + +At this news Kallash glanced significantly toward Kovroff. + +Passing from topic to topic, the conversation finally turned to the +financial position of Russia. Sergei Antonovitch, according to his +expression, "went to the root of the matter," and indicated the +"source of the evil," very frankly attacking the policy of the +government, which did everything to discourage gold mining, hedging +round this most important industry with all kinds of difficulties, and +practically prohibiting the free production of the precious metals by +laying on it a dead weight of costly formalities. + +"I have facts ready to hand," he went on, summing up his argument. "I +have an acquaintance here, an employee of one of the best-known men in +the gold-mining industry." Here Kovroff mentioned a well-known name. +"He is now in St. Petersburg. Well, a few days ago he suddenly came to +me as if he had something weighing on his mind. And I have had +business relations with him in times past. Well, what do you think? He +suddenly made me a proposal, secretly of course; would I not take some +gold dust off his hands? You must know that these trusted employees +every year bring several hundred pounds of gold from Asia, and of +course it stands to reason that they cannot get rid of it in the +ordinary way, but smuggle it through private individuals. It is +uncommonly profitable for the purchasers, because they buy far below +the market rates. So there are plenty of purchasers. Several of the +leading jewelers" (and here he named three or four of the best-known +firms) "never refuse such a deal, and last year a banking house in +Berlin bought a hundred pounds' weight of gold through agents here. +Well, this same employee, my acquaintance, is looking for an +opportunity to get rid of his wares. And he tells me he managed to +bring in about forty pounds of gold, if not more. I introduce this +fact to illustrate the difficulties put in the way of enterprise by +our intelligent government." + +Shadursky did not greatly occupy himself with serious questions and he +was totally ignorant of all details of financial undertakings. It was, +therefore, perfectly easy for Sergei Antonovitch to assume a tone of +solid, practical sense, which imposed completely on the young prince. +Young Shadursky, from politeness, and to prove his worldly wisdom, +assented to Kovroff's statements with equal decision. All the same, +from this conversation, he quite clearly seized on the idea that under +certain circumstances it would be possible to buy gold at a much lower +price than that demanded by the Imperial Bank. And this was just the +thought which Kallash and Kovroff wished to sow in the young prince's +mind. + +"Of course, I myself do not go in for that kind of business," went on +Kovroff carelessly, "and so I could not give my friend any help. But +if some one were going abroad, for instance, he might well risk such +an operation, which would pay him a very handsome profit." + +"How so? In what way?" asked Shadursky. + +"Very simply. You buy the goods here, as I already said, much below +the government price. So that to begin with you make a very profitable +bargain. Then you go abroad with your wares and there, as soon as the +exchange value of gold goes up, you can sell it at the nearest bank. I +know, for instance, that the agent of the ---- Bank" (and he mentioned +a name well known in St. Petersburg) "made many a pretty penny for +himself by just such a deal. This is how it was: He bought gold dust +for forty thousand rubles, and six weeks later got rid of it in +Hamburg for sixty thousand. Whatever you may say, fifty per cent on +your capital in a month and a half is pretty good business." + +"Deuce take it! A pretty profitable bargain, without a doubt!" cried +Shadursky, jumping from his chair. "It would just suit me! I could get +rid of it in Geneva or Paris," he went on in a jesting tone. + +"What do you think? Of course!" Sergei Antonovitch took him up, but in +a serious tone. "You or some one else--in any case it would be a good +bargain. For my acquaintance has to go back to Asia, and has only a +few days to spare. He doesn't know where to turn and rather than take +his gold back with him, he would willingly let it go at an even lower +rate than the smugglers generally ask. If I had enough free cash I +would go in for it myself." + +"It looks a good proposition," commented Count Kallash. + +"It is certainly very enticing; what do you think?" said Prince +Shadursky interrogatively, folding his arms. + +"Hm--yes! very enticing," answered Kovroff. "A fine chance for anyone +who has the money." + +"I would not object! I would not object!" protested Shadursky. +"Suppose you let me become acquainted with your friend." + +"You? Well--" And Kovroff considered; "if you wish. Why not? Only I +warn you, first, if you are going to buy, buy quickly, for my friend +can't wait; and secondly, keep the matter a complete secret, for very +unpleasant results might follow." + +"That goes without saying. That stands to reason," assented Shadursky. +"I can get the money at once and I am just going abroad, in a day or +two at the latest. So it would be foolish to miss such a chance. So it +is a bargain?" And he held out his hand to Kovroff. + +"How a bargain?" objected the cautious Sergei Antonovitch. "I am not +personally concerned in the matter, and you must admit, my dear +prince, that I can make no promises for my acquaintance." + +"I don't mean that!" cried Shadursky. "I only ask you to arrange for +me to meet him. Bring us together--and drop him a hint that I do not +object to buying his wares. You will confer a great obligation on me." + +"Oh, that is quite a different matter. That I can always do; the more +so, because we are such good friends. Why should I not do you such a +trifling service? As far as an introduction is concerned, you may +count on it." And they cordially shook each other by the hand. + + +XVI + +GOLD DUST + + +Both Kallash and Kovroff were too cautious to take an immediate, +personal part in the gold-dust sale. There was a certain underling, +Mr. Escrocevitch by name, at Sergei Kovroff's beck and call--a shady +person, rather dirty in aspect, and who was, therefore, only admitted +to Sergei's presence by the back door and through the kitchen, and +even then only at times when there were no outsiders present. + +Mr. Escrocevitch was a person of general utility and was especially +good at all kinds of conjuring tricks. Watches, snuff-boxes, +cigar-cases, silver spoons, and even heavy bronze paper-weights +acquired the property of suddenly vanishing from under his hands, and +of suddenly reappearing in a quite unexpected quarter. This valuable +gift had been acquired by Mr. Escrocevitch in his early years, when he +used to wander among the Polish fairs, swallowing burning flax for the +delectation of the public and disgorging endless yards of ribbon and +paper. + +Mr. Escrocevitch was a precious and invaluable person also owing to +his capacity of assuming any _rle_, turning himself into any given +character, and taking on the corresponding tone, manners, and +appearance, and he was, further, a pretty fair actor. + +He it was who was chosen to play the part of the Siberian employee. + +Not more than forty-eight hours had passed since the previous +conversation. Prince Shadursky was just up, when his footman announced +to him that a Mr. Valyajnikoff wished to see him. + +The prince put on his dressing gown and went into the drawing-room, +where the tolerably presentable but strangely dressed person of Mr. +Escrocevitch presented itself to him. + +"Permit me to have the honor of introducing myself," he began, bowing +to Prince Shadursky; "I am Ivanovitch Valyajnikoff. Mr. Sergei +Antonovitch Kovroff was so good as to inform me of a certain intention +of yours about the dust. So, if your excellency has not changed your +mind, I am ready to sell it to you with pleasure." + +"Very good of you," answered Prince Shadursky, smiling gayly, and +giving him a chair. + +"To lose no time over trifles," continued Mr. Escrocevitch, "let me +invite you to my quarters. I am staying at a hotel; you can see the +goods there; you can make tests, and, if you are satisfied, I shall be +very happy to oblige your excellency." + +Prince Shadursky immediately finished dressing, ordered his carriage, +and went out with the supposititious Valyajnikoff. They drove to a +shabby hotel and went to a dingy room. + +"This is my poor abode. I am only here on the wing, so to speak. I +humbly request you to be seated," Mr. Escrocevitch said obsequiously. +"Not to lose precious time, perhaps your excellency would like to look +at my wares? Here they are--and I am most willing to show them." + +And he dragged from under the bed a big trunk, in which were five +canvas bags of various sizes, packed full and tied tightly. + +"Here, here it is! This is our Siberian dust," he said, smiling and +bowing, indicating the trunk with a wave of his hand, as if +introducing it to Prince Shadursky. + +"Would not your excellency be so good as to choose one of these bags +to make a test? It will be much better if you see yourself that the +business is above board, with no swindle about it. Choose whichever +you wish!" + +Shadursky lifted one of the bags from the trunk, and when Mr. +Escrocevitch untied it before the young prince's eyes appeared a mass +of metallic grains, at which he gazed not without inward pleasure. + +"How are you going to make a test?" he asked. "We have no blow-pipes +nor test-tubes here?" + +"Make your mind easy, your excellency! We shall find everything we +require--blow-pipes and test-tubes and nitric acid, and even a decimal +weighing machine. In our business we arrange matters in such a way +that we need not disturb outsiders. Only charcoal we haven't got, but +we can easily send for some." + +And going to the door, he gave the servant in the passage an order, +and a few minutes later the latter returned with a dish of charcoal. + +"First class! Now everything is ready," cried Mr. Escrocevitch, +rubbing his hands; and for greater security he turned the key in the +door. + +"Take whichever piece of charcoal you please, your excellency; but, +not to soil your hands, you had better let me take it myself, and you +sprinkle some of the dust on it," and he humbled himself before the +prince. "Forgive me for asking you to do it all yourself, since it is +not from any lack of politeness on my part, but simply in order that +your excellency should be fully convinced that there is no deception." +Saying this, he got his implements ready and lit the lamp. + +The blow-pipe came into action. Valyajnikoff made the experiment, and +Shadursky attentively followed every movement. The charcoal glowed +white hot, the dust ran together and disappeared, and in its place, +when the charcoal had cooled a little, and the amateur chemist +presented it to Prince Shadursky, the prince saw a little ball of gold +lying in a crevice of the charcoal, such as might easily have formed +under the heat of the blow-pipe. + +"Take the globule, your excellency, and place it, for greater +security, in your pocketbook," said Escrocevitch; "you may even wrap +it up in a bit of paper; and keep the sack of gold dust yourself, so +that there can be no mistake." + +Shadursky gladly followed this last piece of advice. + +"And now, your excellency, I should like you kindly to select another +bag; we shall make two or three more tests in the same way." + +The prince consented to this also. + +Escrocevitch handed him a new piece of charcoal to sprinkle dust on, +and once more brought the blow-pipe into operation. And again the +brass filings disappeared and in the crevice appeared a new globule of +gold. + +"Well, perhaps these two tests will be sufficient. What is your +excellency good enough to think on that score?" asked the supposed +Valyajnikoff. + +"What is the need of further tests? The matter is clear enough," +assented the prince. + +"If it is satisfactory, we shall proceed to make it even more +satisfactory. Here we have a touch-stone, and here we have some nitric +acid. Try the globules on the touch-stone physically, and, so to +speak, with the nitric acid chemically. And if you wish to make even +more certain, this is what we shall do. What quantity of gold does +your excellency wish to take?" + +"The more the better. I am ready to buy all these bags." + +"_Very_ much obliged to your excellency, as this will suit me +admirably," said Escrocevitch, bowing low. "And so, if your excellency +is ready, then I humbly beg you to take each bag, examine it, and seal +it with your excellency's own seal. Then let us take one of the +globules and go to one of the best jewelers in St. Petersburg. Let him +tell us the value of the gold and in this way the business will be +exact; there will be no room for complaint on either side, since +everything will be fair and above board." + +The prince was charmed with the honesty and frankness of Mr. +Valyajnikoff. + +They went together to one of the best-known jewelers, who, in their +presence, made a test and announced that the gold was chemically pure, +without any alloy, and therefore of the highest value. + +On their return to the hotel, Mr. Escrocevitch weighed the bags, which +turned out to weigh forty-eight pounds. Allowing three pounds for the +weight of the bags, this left forty-five pounds of pure gold. + +"How much a pound do you want?" Shadursky asked him. + +"A pretty low price, your excellency," answered the Siberian, with a +shrug of his shoulders, "as I am selling from extreme necessity, +because I have to leave for Siberia; I've spent too much time and +money in St. Petersburg already; and if I cannot sell my wares, I +shall not be able to go at all. I assume that the government price is +known to your excellency?" + +"But I am willing to take two hundred rubles a pound." + +I can't take a kopeck less, and even so I am making a reduction of +nearly a hundred rubles the pound." + +"All right!" assented Shadursky. "That will amount to--" he went on, +knitting his brows, "forty-five pounds at two hundred rubles a +pound----" + +"It will make exactly nine thousand, your excellency. Just exactly +nine," Escrocevitch obsequiously helped him out. The prince, cutting +the matter short, immediately gave him a check, and taking the trunk +with the coveted bags, drove with the Siberian employee to his +father's house, where the elder Prince Shadursky, at his son's +pressing demand, though very unwillingly, exchanged the check for nine +thousand rubles in bills, for which Ivan Ivanovitch Valyajnikoff +forthwith gave a receipt. The prince was delighted with his purchase, +and he did not utter a syllable about it to anyone except Kovroff. + +Sergei Antonovitch gave him a friendly counsel not to waste any time, +but to go abroad at once, as, according to the _Exchange Gazette_, +gold was at that moment very high, so that he had an admirable +opportunity to get rid of his wares on very favorable terms. + +The prince, in fact, without wasting time got his traveling passport, +concealed his purchase with the utmost care, and set out for the +frontier, announcing that he was on his way to his mother, whose +health imperatively demanded his presence. + +The success of the whole business depended on the fact that brass +filings, which bear a strong external resemblance to gold dust, are +dissipated in the strong heat of the blow-pipe. The charcoal was +prepared beforehand, a slight hollow being cut in it with a penknife, +in the bottom of which is placed a globule of pure gold, the top of +which is just below the level of the charcoal, and the hollow is +filled up with powdered charcoal mixed with a little bees-wax. The +"chemist" who makes the experiments must make himself familiar with +the distinctive appearance of the charcoal, so as to pick it out from +among several pieces, and must remember exactly where the crevice is. + +On this first occasion, Escrocevitch had prepared all four pieces of +charcoal, which were brought by the servant in the passage. He chose +as his temporary abode a hotel whose proprietor was an old ally of +his, and the servant was also a confederate. + +Thus was founded the famous "Gold Products Company," which is still in +very successful operation, and is constantly widening its sphere of +activity. + + +XVII + +THE DELUGE + + +Count Kallash finally decided on his course of action. It was too late +to seek justice for his sister, but not too late for a tardy +reparation. The gang had prospered greatly, and the share of Baroness +von Dring and Bodlevski already amounted to a very large figure. +Count Kallash determined to demand for his sister a sum equal to that +of the securities in her name which Natasha had stolen, calculating +that this would be enough to maintain his sister in peace and comfort +to the end of her days. His own life was too stormy, too full of risks +for him to allow his sister's fate to depend on his, so he had decided +to settle her in some quiet nook where, free from danger, she might +dream away her few remaining years. + +To his surprise Baroness von Dring flatly refused to be put under +contribution. + +"Your demand is outrageous," she said. "I am not going to be the +victim of any such plot!" + +"Very well, I will compel you to unmask?" + +"To unmask? What do you mean, count? You forget yourself!" + +"Well, then, I shall try to make you remember me!" And Kallash turned +his back on her and strode from the room. A moment later, and she +heard the door close loudly behind him. + +The baroness had already told Bodlevski of her meeting with Princess +Anna, and she now hurried to him for counsel. They agreed that their +present position, with Kallash's threats hanging over their heads, was +intolerable. But what was to be done? + +Bodlevski paced up and down the room, biting his lips, and seeking +some decisive plan. + +"We must act in such a way," he said, coming to a stand before the +baroness, "as to get rid of this fellow once for all. I think he is +dangerous, and it never does any harm to take proper precautions. Get +the money ready, Natasha; we must give it to him." + +"What! give him the money!" and the baroness threw up her hands. "Will +that get us out of his power? Can we feel secure? It will only last +till something new happens. At the first occasion----" + +"Which will also be the last!" interrupted Bodlevski. "Suppose we do +give him the money to-day; does that mean that we give it for good? +Not at all! It will be back in my pocket to-morrow! Let us think it +out properly!" and he gave her a friendly pat on the shoulder, and sat +down in an easy chair in front of her. + +The result of their deliberations was a little note addressed to Count +Kallash: + +"DEAR COUNT," it ran, "I was guilty of an act of folly toward you +to-day. I am ashamed of it, and wish to make amends as soon as +possible. We have always been good friends, so let us forget our +little difference, the more so that an alliance is much more +advantageous to us both than a quarrel. Come this evening to receive +the money you spoke of, and to clasp in amity the hand of your devoted +friend, VON D." + +Kallash came about ten o'clock in the evening, and received from +Bodlevski the sum of fifty thousand rubles in notes. The baroness was +very amiable, and persuaded him to have some tea. There was not a +suggestion of future difficulties, and everything seemed to promise +perfect harmony for the future. Bodlevski talked over plans of future +undertakings, and told him, with evident satisfaction, that they had +just heard of the arrest of the younger Prince Shadursky, in Paris, +for attempting to defraud a bank by a pretended sale of gold dust. +Count Kallash was also gay, and a certain satisfaction filled his mind +at the thought of his sister's security, as he felt the heavy packet +of notes in his pocket. He smoked his cigar with evident satisfaction, +sipping the fragrant tea from time to time. The conversation was gay +and animated, and for some reason or other turned to the subject of +clubs. + +"Ah, yes," interposed Bodlevski, "_a propos_! I expect to be a member +of the Yacht Club this summer. Let me recommend to you a new field of +action. They will disport themselves on the green water, and we on the +green cloth! By the way, I forgot to speak of it--I bought a boat the +other day, a mere rowboat. It is on the Fontauka Canal, at the +Simeonovski bridge. We must come for a row some day." + +"Delightful," exclaimed the baroness. "But why some day? Why not +to-night? The moon is beautiful, and, indeed, it is hardly dark at +midnight. Your speaking of boats has filled me with a sudden desire to +go rowing. What do you say, dear count?" and she turned amiably to +Kallash. + +Count Kallash at once consented, considering the baroness's idea an +admirable one, and they were soon on their way toward the Simeonovski +bridge. + +"How delightful it is!" cried the baroness, some half hour later, as +they were gliding over the quiet water. "Count, do you like strong +sensations?" she asked suddenly. + +"I am fond of strong sensations of every kind," he replied, taking up +her challenge. + +"Well, I am going to offer you a little sensation, though it always +greatly affects me. Everything is just right for it, and I am in the +humor, too." + +"What is it to be?" asked Count Kallash indifferently. + +"You will see in a moment. Do you know that there are underground +canals in St. Petersburg?" + +"In St. Petersburg?" asked Kallash in astonishment. + +"Yes, in St. Petersburg! A whole series of underground rivers, wide +enough for a boat to pass through. I have rowed along them several +times. Does not that offer a new sensation, something quite unlike St. +Petersburg?" + +"Yes, it is certainly novel," answered Count Kallash, now interested. +"Where are they? Pray show them to me." + +"There is one a few yards off. Shall we enter? You are not afraid?" +she said with a smile of challenge. + +"By no means--unless you command me to be afraid," Kallash replied in +the same tone. "Let us enter at once!" + +"Kasimir, turn under the arch!" and the boat cut across the canal +toward a half circle of darkness. A moment more and the darkness +engulfed them completely. They were somewhere under the Admiralty, not +far from St. Isaac's Cathedral. Away ahead of them was a tiny half +circle of light, where the canal joined the swiftly flowing Neva. +Carriages rumbled like distant thunder above their heads. + +"Deuce take it! it is really rather fine!" cried the count, with +evident pleasure. "A meeting of pirates is all we need to make it +perfect. It is a pity that we cannot see where we are!" + +"Light a match. Have you any?" said the baroness. + +"I have, and wax matches, too." The count took out a match and lit it, +and the underground stream was lit by a faint ruddy glow. The channel, +covered by a semi-circular arch, was just wide enough for one boat to +pass through, with oars out. The black water flowed silently by in a +sluggish, Stygian stream. Bats, startled by the light, fluttered in +their faces, and then disappeared in the darkness. + +As the boat glided on, the match burned out in Count Kallash's +fingers. He threw it into the water, and opened his matchbox to take +another. + +At the same moment he felt a sharp blow on the head, followed by a +second, and he sank senseless in the bottom of the boat. + +"Where is the money?" cried Bodlevski, who had struck him with the +handle of the oar. "Get his coat open!" and the baroness deftly drew +the thick packet from the breast pocket of his coat. "Here it is! I +have it!" she replied quickly. + +"Now, overboard with him! Keep the body steady!" A dull splash, and +then silence. "To-night we shall sleep secure!" + +They counted without their host. Princess Anna had also her scheme of +vengeance, and had worked it out, without a word to her brother. When +Natasha and Bodlevski entered their apartment, they found the police +in possession, and a few minutes later both were under arrest. +Abundant evidence of fraud and forgery was found in their dwelling, +and the vast Siberian solitudes avenged the death of their last +victim. + + + +JRGEN WILHELM BERGSE + + +_THE AMPUTATED ARMS_ + + +It happened when I was about eighteen or nineteen years old (began Dr. +Simsen). I was studying at the University, and being coached in +anatomy by my old friend Slling. He was an amusing fellow, this +Slling. Full of jokes and whimsical ideas, and equally merry, whether +he was working at the dissecting table or brewing a punch for a jovial +crowd. + +He had but one fault--if one might call it so--and that was his +exaggerated idea of punctuality. He grumbled if you were late two +minutes; any longer delay would spoil the entire evening for him. He +himself was never known to be late. At least not during the entire +years of my studying. + +One Wednesday evening our little circle of friends met as usual in my +room at seven o'clock. I had made the customary preparations for the +meeting, had borrowed three chairs--I had but one myself--had cleaned +all my pipes, and had persuaded Hans to take the breakfast dishes from +the sofa and carry them downstairs. One by one my friends arrived, the +clock struck seven, and to our great astonishment, Slling had not yet +appeared. One, two, even five minutes passed before we heard him run +upstairs and knock at the door with his characteristic short blows. + +When he entered the room he looked so angry and at the same time so +upset that I cried out: "What's the matter, Slling? You look as if +you had been robbed." + +"That's exactly what has happened," replied Slling angrily. "But it +was no ordinary sneak thief," he added, hanging his overcoat behind +the door. + +"What have you lost?" asked my neighbor Nansen. + +"Both arms from the new skeleton I've just recently received from the +hospital," said Slling with an expression as if his last cent had +been taken from him. "It's vandalism!" + +We burst out into loud laughter at this remarkable answer, but Slling +continued: "Can you imagine it? Both arms are gone, cut off at the +shoulder joint;--and the strangest part of it is that the same thing +has been done to my shabby old skeleton which stands in my bedroom, +There wasn't an arm on either of them." + +"That's too bad," I remarked. "For we were just going to study the +_anatomy_ of the arm to-night." + +"Osteology," corrected Slling gravely. "Get out your skeleton, little +Simsen. It isn't as good as mine, but it will do for this +evening." + +I went to the corner where my anatomical treasures were hidden behind +a green curtain--"the Museum," was what Slling called it--but my +astonishment was great when I found my skeleton in its accustomed +place and wearing as usual my student's uniform--but without arms. + +"The devil!" cried Slling. "That was done by the same person who +robbed me; the arms are taken off at the shoulder joint in exactly the +same manner. You did it, Simsen!" + +I declared my innocence, very angry at the abuse of my fine skeleton, +while Nansen cried: "Wait a moment, I'll bring in mine. There hasn't +been a soul in my room since this morning, I can swear to that. I'll +be back in an instant." + +He hurried into his room, but returned in a few moments greatly +depressed and somewhat ashamed. The skeleton was in its usual place, +but the arms were gone, cut off at the shoulder in exactly the same +manner as mine. + +The affair, mysterious in itself, had now come to be a serious matter. +We lost ourselves in suggestions and explanations, none of which +seemed to throw any light on the subject. Finally we sent a messenger +to the other side of the house where, as I happened to know, was a new +skeleton which the young student Ravn had recently received from the +janitor of the hospital. + +Ravn had gone out and taken the key with him. The messenger whom we +had sent to the rooms of the Iceland students returned with the +information that one of them had used the only skeleton they possessed +to pummel the other with, and that consequently only the thigh bones +were left unbroken. + +What were we to do? We couldn't understand the matter at all. Slling +scolded and cursed and the company was about to break up when we heard +some one coming noisily upstairs. The door was thrown open and a tall, +thin figure appeared on the threshold--our good friend Niels Daae. + +He was a strange chap, this Niels Daae, the true type of a species +seldom found nowadays. He was no longer young, and by reason of a +queer chain of circumstances, as he expressed it, he had been through +nearly all the professions and could produce papers proving that he +had been on the point of passing not one but three examinations. + +He had begun with theology; but the story of the quarrel between Jacob +and Esau had led him to take up the study of law. As a law student he +had come across an interesting poisoning case, which had proved to him +that a study of medicine was extremely necessary for lawyers; and he +had taken up the study of medicine with such energy that he had +forgotten all his law and was about to take his last examinations at +the age of forty. + +Niels Daae took the story of our troubles very seriously. "Every pot +has two handles," he began. "Every sausage two ends, every question +two sides, except this one--this has three." (Applause.) "When we look +at it from the legal point of view there can be no doubt that it +belongs in the category of ordinary theft. But from the fact that the +thief took only the arms when he might have taken the entire skeleton, +we must conclude that he is not in a responsible condition of mind, +which therefore introduces a medical side to the affair. From a legal +point of view, the thief must be convicted for robbery, or at least +for the illegal appropriation of the property of others; but from the +medical point of view, we must acquit him, because he is not +responsible for his acts. Here we have two professions quarreling with +one another, and who shall say which is right? But now I will +introduce the theological point of view, and raise the entire affair +up to a higher plane. Providence, in the material shape of a patron of +mine in the country, whose children I have inoculated with the juice +of wisdom, has sent me two fat geese and two first-class ducks. These +animals are to be cooked and eaten this evening in Mathiesen's +establishment, and I invite this honored company to join me there. +Personally I look upon the disappearance of these arms as an all-wise +intervention of Providence, which sets its own inscrutable wisdom up +against the wisdom which we would otherwise have heard from the lips +of my venerable friend Slling." + +Daae's confused speech was received with laughter and applause, and +Slling's weak protests were lost in the general delight at the +invitation. I have often noticed that such improvised festivities are +usually the most enjoyable, and so it was for us that evening. Niels +Daae treated us to his ducks and to his most amusing jokes, Slling +sang his best songs, our jovial host Mathiesen told his wittiest +stories, and the merriment was in full swing when we heard cries in +the street, and then a rush of confused noises broken by screams of +pain. + +"There's been an accident," cried Slling, running out to the door. + +We all followed him and discovered that a pair of run-away horses had +thrown a carriage against a tree, hurling the driver from his box, +under the wheels. His right arm had been broken near the shoulder. In +the twinkling of an eye the hall of festivities was transformed into +an emergency hospital. Slling shook his head as he examined the +injury, and ordered the transport of the patient to the city hospital. +It was his belief that the arm would have to be amputated, cut off at +the shoulder joint, just as had been the case with our skeleton. +"Damned odd coincidence, isn't it?" he remarked to me. + +Our merry mood had vanished and we took our way, quiet and depressed, +through the old avenues toward our home. For the first time in its +existence possibly, our venerable "barracks," as we called the +dormitory, saw its occupants returning home from an evening's bout +just as the night watchman intoned his eleven o'clock verse. + +"Just eleven," exclaimed Slling. "It's too early to go to bed, and +too late to go anywhere else. We'll go up to your room, little Simsen, +and see if we can't have some sort of a lesson this evening. You have +your colored plates and we'll try to get along with them. It's a +nuisance that we should have lost those arms just this evening." + +"The Doctor can have all the arms and legs he wants," grinned Hans, +who came out of the doorway just in time to hear Slling's last word. + +"What do you mean, Hans?" asked Slling in astonishment. + +"It'll be easy enough to get them," said Hans. "They've torn down the +planking around the Holy Trinity churchyard, and dug up the earth to +build a new wall. I saw it myself, as I came past the church. Lord, +what a lot of bones they've dug out there! There's arms and legs and +heads, many more than the Doctor could possibly need." + +"Much good that does us," answered Slling. "They shut the gates at +seven o'clock and it's after eleven already." + +"Oh, yes, they shut them," grinned Hans again. "But there's another +way to get in. If you go through the gate of the porcelain factory and +over the courtyard, and through the mill in the fourth courtyard that +leads out into Spring Street, there you will see where the planking is +torn down and you can get into the churchyard easily." + +"Hans, you're a genius!" exclaimed Slling in delight. "Here, Simsen, +you know that factory inside and out, you're so friendly with that +fellow Outzen who lives there. Run along to him and let him give you +the key of the mill. It will be easy to find an arm that isn't too +much decayed. Hurry along, now; the rest of us will wait for you +upstairs." + +To be quite candid I must confess that I was not particularly eager to +fulfill Slling's command. I was at an age to have still a sufficient +amount of reverence for death and the grave, and the mysterious +occurrence of the stolen arms still ran through my mind. But I was +still more afraid of Slling's irony and of the laughter of my +comrades, so I trotted off as carelessly as if I had been sent to buy +a package of cigarettes. + +It was some time before I could arouse the old janitor of the factory +from his peaceful slumbers. I told him that I had an important message +from Outzen, and hurried upstairs to the latter's room. Outzen was a +strictly moral character; knowing this, I was prepared to have him +refuse me the key which would let me into the fourth courtyard and +from there into the cemetery. As I expected, Outzen took the matter +very seriously. He closed the Hebrew Bible which he had been studying +as I entered, turned up his lamp and looked at me in astonishment as I +made my request. + +"Why, my dear Simsen, it is a most sinful deed that you are about to +do," he said gravely. "Take my advice and desist. You will get no key +from me for any such cause. The peace of the grave is sacred. No man +dare disturb it." + +"And how about the gravedigger? He puts the newly dead down beside the +old corpses, and lives as peacefully as anyone else." + +"He is doing his duty," answered Outzen calmly. "But to disturb the +peace of the grave from sheer daring, with the fumes of the punch +still in your head,--that is a different matter,--that will surely be +punished!" + +His words irritated me. It is not very flattering, particularly if one +is not yet twenty, to be told that you are about to perform a daring +deed simply because you are drunk. Without any further reply to his +protests I took the key from its place on the wall and ran downstairs +two steps at a time, vowing to myself that I would take home an arm +let cost what it would. I would show Outzen, and Slling, and all the +rest, what a devil of a fellow I was. + +My heart beat rapidly as I stole through the long dark corridor, past +the ruins of the old convent of St. Clara, into the so-called third +courtyard. Here I took a lantern from the hall, lit it and crossed to +the mill where the clay was prepared for the factory. The tall wheels +and cylinders, with their straps and bolts, looked like weird +creatures of the night in the dim light of my tallow candle. I felt my +courage sinking even here, but I pulled myself together, opened the +last door with my key and stepped out into the fourth courtyard. A +moment later I stood on the dividing line between the cemetery and the +factory. + +The entire length of the tall blackened planking had been torn down. +The pieces of it lay about, and the earth had been dug up to +considerable depth, to make a foundation for a new wall between Life +and Death. The uncanny emptiness of the place seized upon me. I halted +involuntarily as if to harden myself against it. It was a raw, cold, +stormy evening. The clouds flew past the moon in jagged fragments, so +that the churchyard, with its white crosses and stones, lay now in +full light, now in dim shadow. Now and then a rush of wind rattled +over the graves, roared through the leafless trees, bent the +complaining bushes, and caught itself in the little eddy at the corner +of the church, only to escape again over the roofs, turning the old +weather vane with a sharp scream of the rusty iron. + +I looked toward the left--there I saw several weird white shapes +moving gently in the moonlight. "White sheets," I said to myself, +"it's nothing but white sheets! This drying of linen in the churchyard +ought to be stopped." + +I turned in the opposite direction and saw a heap of bones scarce two +paces distant from me. Holding my lantern lower, I approached them and +stretched out my hand--there was a rattling in the heap; something +warm and soft touched my fingers. + +I started and shivered. Then I exclaimed: "The rats! nothing but the +rats in the churchyard! I must not get frightened. It will be so +foolish--they would laugh at me. Where the devil is that arm? I can't +find one that isn't broken!" + +With trembling knees and in feverish haste I examined one heap after +another. The light in my lantern flickered in the wind and suddenly +went out. The foul smell of the smoking wick rose to my face and I +felt as if I were about to faint. It took all my energy to recover my +control. I walked two or three steps ahead, and saw at a little +distance a coffin which had been still in good shape when taken out of +the earth. + +I approached it and saw that it was of old-fashioned shape, made of +heavy oaken boards that were already rotting. On its cover was a metal +plate with an illegible inscription. The old wood was so brittle that +it would have been very easy for me to open the coffin with any sort +of a tool. I looked about me and saw a hatchet and a couple of spades +lying near the fence. I took one of the latter, put its flat end +between the boards--the old coffin fell apart with a dull crackling +protest. + +I turned my head aside, put my hand in through the opening, felt +about, and taking a firm hold on one arm of the skeleton, I loosened +it from the body with a quick jerk. The movement loosened the head as +well, and it rolled out through the opening right to my very feet. I +took up the skull to lay it in the coffin again--and then I saw a +greenish phosphorescent glimmer in its empty eye sockets, a glimmer +which came and went. Mad terror shook me at the sight. I looked up at +the houses in the distance, then back again to the skull; the empty +sockets shone more brightly than before. I felt that I must have some +natural explanation for this appearance or I would go mad. I took up +the head again--and never in my life have I had so overpowering an +impression of the might of death and decay than in this moment. +Myriads of disgusting clammy insects poured out of every opening of +the skull, and a couple of shining, wormlike centipedes--_Geophiles_, +the scientists call them--crawled about in the eye sockets. I threw +the skull back into the coffin, sprang over the heaps of bones without +even taking time to pick up my lantern, and ran like a hunted thing +through the dark mill, over the factory courtyards, until I reached +the outer gate. Here I washed the arm at the fountain, and smoothed my +disarranged clothing. I hid my booty under my overcoat, nodded to the +sleepy old janitor as he opened the door to me, and a few moments +later I entered my own room with an expression which I had attempted +to make quite calm and careless. + +"What the devil is the matter with you, Simsen?" cried Slling as he +saw me. "Have you seen a ghost? Or is the punch wearing off already? +We thought you'd never come; why, it's nearly twelve o'clock!" + +Without a word I drew back my overcoat and laid my booty on the table. + +"By all the devils," exclaimed Slling in anatomical enthusiasm, +"where did you find that superb arm? Simsen knows what he's about all +right. It's a girl's arm; isn't it beautiful? Just look at the +hand--how fine and delicate it is! Must have worn a No. 6 glove. +There's a pretty hand to caress and kiss!" + +The arm passed from one to the other amid general admiration. Every +word that was said increased my disgust for myself and for what I had +done. It was a woman's arm, then--what sort of a woman might she have +been? Young and beautiful possibly--her brothers' pride, her parents' +joy. She had faded away in her youth, cared for by loving hands and +tender thoughts. She had fallen asleep gently, and those who loved her +had desired to give her in death the peace she had enjoyed throughout +her lifetime. For this they had made her coffin of thick, heavy oaken +boards. And this hand, loved and missed by so many--it lay there now +on an anatomical table, encircled by clouds of tobacco smoke, stared +at by curious glances, and made the object of coarse jokes. O God! how +terrible it was! + +"I must have that arm," exclaimed Slling, when the first burst of +admiration had passed. "When I bleach it and touch it up with varnish, +it will be a superb specimen. I'll take it home with me." + +"No," I exclaimed, "I can't permit it. It was wrong of me to bring it +away from the churchyard. I'm going right back to put the arm in its +place." + +"Well, will you listen to that?" cried Slling, amid the hearty +laughter of the others. "Simsen's so lyric, he certainly must be +drunk. I must have that arm at any cost." + +"Not much," cut in Niels Daae; "you have no right to it. It was buried +in the earth and dug out again; it is a find, and all the rest of us +have just as much right to it as you have." + +"Yes, every one of us has some share in it," said some one else. + +"But what are you going to do about it?" remarked Slling. "It would +be vandalism to break up that arm. What God has joined together let no +man put asunder," he concluded with pathos. + +"Let's auction it off," exclaimed Daae. "I will be the auctioneer, and +this key to the graveyard will serve me for a hammer." + +The laughter broke out anew as Daae took his place solemnly at the +head of the table and began to whine out the following announcement: +"I hereby notify all present that on the 25th of November, at twelve +o'clock at midnight, in corridor No. 5 of the student barracks, a +lady's arm in excellent condition, with all its appurtenances of wrist +bones, joints, and finger tips, is to be offered at public auction. +The buyer can have possession of his purchase immediately after the +auction, and a credit of six weeks will be given to any reliable +customer. I bid a Danish shilling." + +"One mark," cried Slling mockingly. + +"Two," cried somebody else. + +"Four," exclaimed Slling. "It's worth it. Why don't you join in, +Simsen? You look as if you were sitting in a hornet's nest." + +I bid one mark more, and Slling raised me a thaler. There were no +more bids, the hammer fell, and the arm belonged to Slling. + +"Here, take this," he said, handing me a mark piece; "it's part of +your commission as grave robber. You shall have the rest later, unless +you prefer that I should turn it over to the drinking fund." With +these words Slling wrapped the arm in a newspaper, and the gay crowd +ran noisily down the stairs and through the streets, until their +singing and laughter were lost in the distance. + +I stood alone, still dazed and bewildered, staring at the piece of +money in my hand. My thoughts were far too much excited that I should +hope to sleep. I turned up my lamp and took out one of my books to try +and study myself into a quieter mood. But without success. + +Suddenly I heard a sound like that of a swinging pendulum. I raised my +head and listened attentively. There was no clock either in my room or +in the neighboring ones--but I could still hear the sound. At the same +moment my lamp began to flicker. The oil was apparently exhausted. I +was about to rise to fill it again, when my eyes fell upon the door, +and I saw the graveyard key, which I had hung there, moving slowly +back and forth with a rhythmic swing. Just as its motion seemed about +to die away, it would receive a gentle push as from an unseen hand, +and would swing back and forth more than ever. I stood there with open +mouth and staring eyes, ice-cold chills ran down my back, and drops of +perspiration stood out on my forehead. Finally, I could endure it no +longer. I sprang to the door, seized the key with both hands and put +it on my desk under a pile of heavy books. Then I breathed a sigh of +relief. + +My lamp was about to go out and I discovered that I had no more oil. +With feverish haste I threw my clothes off, blew out the light and +sprang into bed as if to smother my fears. + +But once alone in the darkness the fears grew worse than ever. They +grew into dreams and visions. It seemed to me as if I were out in the +graveyard again, and heard the screaming of the rusty weather vane as +the wind turned it. Then I was in the mill again; the wheels were +turning and stretching out ghostly hands to draw me into the yawning +maw of the machine. Then again, I found myself in a long, low, +pitch-black corridor, followed by Something I could not see--Something +that drove me to the mouth of a bottomless abyss. I would start up out +of my half sleep, listen and look about me, then fall back again into +an uneasy slumber. + +Suddenly something fell from the ceiling onto the bed, and +"buzz--buzz--buzz" sounded about my head. It was a huge fly which had +been sleeping in a corner of my room and had been roused by the heat +of the stove. It flew about in great circles, now around the bed, now +in all four corners of the chamber--"buzz--buzz--buzz"--it was +unendurable! At last I heard it creep into a bag of sugar which had +been left on the window sill. I sprang up and closed the bag tight. +The fly buzzed worse than ever, but I went back to bed and attempted +to sleep again, feeling that I had conquered the enemy. + +I began to count: I counted slowly to one hundred, two hundred, +finally up to one thousand, and then at last I experienced that +pleasant weakness which is the forerunner of true sleep. I seemed to +be in a beautiful garden, bright with many flowers and odorous with +all the perfumes of spring. At my side walked a beautiful young girl. +I seemed to know her well, and yet it was not possible for me to +remember her name, or even to know how we came to be wandering there +together. As we walked slowly through the paths she would stop to pick +a flower or to admire a brilliant butterfly swaying in the air. +Suddenly a cold wind blew through the garden. The young girl trembled +and her cheeks grew pale. "I am cold," she said to me, "do you not +see? It is Death who is approaching us." + +I would have answered, but in the same moment another stronger and +still more icy gust roared through the garden. The leaves turned pale +on the trees, the flowerets bent their heads, and the bees and +butterflies fell lifeless to the earth. "That is Death," whispered my +companion, trembling. + +A third icy gust blew the last leaves from the bushes, white crosses +and gravestones appeared between the bare twigs--and I was in the +churchyard again and heard the screaming of the rusty weather vane. +Beside me stood a heavy brass-bound coffin with a metal plate on the +cover. I bent down to read the inscription, the cover rolled off +suddenly, and from out the coffin rose the form of the young girl who +had been with me in the garden. I stretched out my arms to clasp her +to my breast--then, oh horror! I saw the greenish-gleaming, empty eye +sockets of the skull. I felt bony arms around me, dragging me back +into the coffin. I screamed aloud for help and woke up. + +My room seemed unusually light; but I remembered that it was a +moonlight night and thought no more of it. I tried to explain the +visions of my dream with various natural noises about me. The +imprisoned fly buzzed as loudly as a whole swarm of bees; one half of +my window had blown open, and the cold night air rushed in gusts into +my room. + +I sprang up to close the window, and then I saw that the strong white +light that filled my room did not come from the moon, but seemed to +shine out from the church opposite. I heard the chiming of the bells, +soft at first, as if in far distance, then stronger and stronger +until, mingled with the rolling notes of the organ, a mighty rush of +sound struck against my windows. I stared out into the street and +could scarcely believe my eyes. The houses in the market place just +beyond were all little one-story buildings with bow windows and wooden +eave troughs ending in carved dragon heads. Most of them had balconies +of carved woodwork, and high stone stoops with gleaming brass rails. + +But it was the church most of all that aroused my astonishment. Its +position was completely changed. Its front turned toward our house +where usually the side had stood. The church was brilliantly lighted, +and now I perceived that it was this light which filled my room. I +stood speechless amid the chiming of the bells and the roaring of the +organ, and I saw a long wedding procession moving slowly up the center +aisle of the church toward the altar. The light was so brilliant that +I could distinguish each one of the figures. They were all in strange +old-time costumes; the ladies in brocades and satins with strings of +pearls in their powdered hair, the gentlemen in uniform with knee +breeches, swords, and cocked hats held under their arms. But it was +the bride who drew my attention most strongly. She was clothed in +white satin, and a faded myrtle wreath was twisted through the +powdered locks beneath her sweeping veil. The bridegroom at her side +wore a red uniform and many decorations. Slowly they approached the +altar, where an old man in black vestments and a heavy white wig was +awaiting them. They stood before him, and I could see that he was +reading the ritual from a gold-lettered book. + +One of the train stepped forward and unbuckled the bridegroom's sword, +that his right hand might be free to take that of the bride. She +seemed about to raise her own hand to his, when she suddenly sank +fainting at his feet. The guests hurried toward the altar, the lights +went out, the music stopped, and the figures floated together like +pale white mists. + +But outside in the square it was still brighter than before, and I +suddenly saw the side portal of the church burst open and the wedding +procession move out across the market place. + +I turned as if to flee, but could not move a muscle. Quiet, as if +turned to stone, I stood and watched the ghostly figures that came +nearer and nearer. The clergyman led the train, then came the +bridegroom and the bride, and as the latter raised her eyes to me I +saw that it was the young girl of the garden. Her eyes were so full of +pain, so full of sad entreaty that I could scarce endure them; but how +shall I explain the feeling that shot through me as I suddenly +discovered that the right sleeve of her white satin gown hung empty at +her side? The train disappeared, and the tone of the church bells +changed to a strange, dry, creaking sound, and the gate below me +complained as it turned on its rusty hinges. I faced toward my own +door. I knew that it was shut and locked, but I knew that the ghostly +procession were coming to call me to account, and I felt that no walls +could keep them out. My door flew open, there was a rustling as of +silken gowns, but the figures seemed to float in in the changing forms +of swaying white mists. Closer and closer they gathered around me, +robbing me of breath, robbing me of the power to move. There was a +silence as of the grave--and then I saw before me the old priest with +his gold-lettered book. He raised his hand and spoke with a soft, deep +voice: "The grave is sacred! Let no one dare to disturb the peace of +the dead." + +"The grave is sacred!" an echo rolled through the room as the swaying +figures moved like reeds in the wind. + +"What do you want? What do you demand?" I gasped in the grip of a +deathly fear. + +"Give back to the grave that which belongs to it," said the deep voice +again. + +"Give back to the grave that which belongs to it," repeated the echo +as the swaying forms pressed closer to me. + +"But it's impossible--I can't--I have sold it--sold it at auction!" I +screamed in despair. "It was buried and found in the earth--and sold +for five marks eight shillings----" + +A hideous scream came from the ghostly ranks. They threw themselves +upon me as the white fog rolls in from the sea, they pressed upon me +until I could no longer breathe. Beside myself, I threw open the window +and attempted to spring out, screaming aloud: "Help! help! murder! +they are murdering me!" + +The sound of my own voice awoke me. I found myself in my night clothes +on the window sill, one leg already out of the window and both hands +clutching at the center post. On the street below me stood the night +watchman, staring up at me in astonishment, while faint white clouds +of mist rolled out of my window like smoke. All around outside lay the +November fog, gray and moist, and as the fresh air of the early dawn +blew cool on my face I felt my senses returning to me. I looked down +at the night watchman--God bless him! He was a big, strong, +comfortably fat fellow made of real flesh and blood, and no ghost +shape of the night. I looked at the round tower of the church--how +massive and venerable it stood there, gray in the gray of the morning +mists. I looked over at the market place. There was a light in the +baker shop and a farmer stood before it, tying his horse to a post. +Back in my own room everything was in its usual place. Even the little +paper bag with the sugar lay there on the window sill, and the +imprisoned fly buzzed louder than ever. I knew that I was really awake +and that the day was coming. I sprang back hastily from the window and +was about to jump into bed, when my foot touched something hard and +sharp. + +I stooped to see what it was, felt about on the floor in the half +light, and touched a long, dry, skeleton arm which held a tiny roll of +paper in its bony fingers. I felt about again, and found still another +arm, also holding a roll of paper. Then I began to think that my +reason must be going. What I had seen thus far was only an unusually +vivid dream--a vision of my heated imagination. But I knew that I was +awake now, and yet here lay two--no, three (for there was still +another arm)--hard, undeniable, material proofs that what I had +thought was hallucination, might have been reality. Trembling in the +thought that madness was threatening me, I tore open the first roll of +paper. On it was written the name: "Slling." I caught at the second +and opened it. There stood the word: "Nansen." + +I had just strength enough left to catch the third paper and open +it--there was my own name: "Simsen." + +Then I sank fainting to the floor. + +When I came to myself again, Niels Daae stood beside me with an empty +water bottle, the contents of which were dripping off my person and +off the sofa upon which I was lying. "Here, drink this," he said in a +soothing tone. "It will make you feel better." + +I looked about me wildly, as I sipped at the glass of brandy which put +new life into me once more. "What has happened?" I asked weakly. + +"Oh, nothing of importance," answered Niels. "You were just about to +commit suicide by means of charcoal gas. Those are mighty bad +ventilators on your old stove there. The wind must have blown them +shut, unless you were fool enough to close them yourself before you +went to bed. If you had not opened the window, you would have already +been too far along the path to Paradise to be called back by a glass +of brandy. Take another." + +"How did you get up here?" I asked, sitting upright on the sofa. + +"Through the door in the usual simple manner," answered Niels Daae. "I +was on watch last night in the hospital; but Mathiesen's punch is +heavy and my watching was more like sleeping, so I thought it better +to come away in the early morning. As I passed your barracks here, I +saw you sitting in the window in your nightshirt and calling down to +the night watchman that some one was murdering you. I managed to wake +up Jansen down below you, and got into the house through his window. +Do you usually sleep on the bare floor?" + +"But where did the arms come from?" I asked, still half bewildered. + +"Oh, the devil take those arms," cried Niels. "Just see if you can +stand up all right now. Oh, those arms there? Why, those are the arms +I cut off your skeletons. Clever idea, wasn't it? You know how grumpy +Slling gets if anything interferes with his tutoring. You see, I'd +had the geese sent me, and I wanted you to all come with me to +Mathiesen's place. I knew you were going to read the osteology of the +arm, so I went up into Slling's room, opened it with his own keys and +took the arms from his skeleton. I did the same here while you were +downstairs in the reading room. Have you been stupid enough to take +them down off their frames, and take away their tickets? I had marked +them so carefully, that each man should get his own again." + +I dressed hastily and went out with Niels into the fresh, cool morning +air. A few minutes later we separated, and I turned toward the street +where Slling lived. Without heeding the protest of his old landlady, +I entered the room where he still slept the sleep of the just. The +arm, still wrapped in newspaper, lay on his desk. I took it up, put +the mark piece in its place and hastened with all speed to the +churchyard. + +How different it looked in the early dawn! The fog had risen and +shining frost pearls hung in the bare twigs of the tall trees where +the sparrows were already twittering their morning song. There was no +one to be seen. The churchyard lay quiet and peaceful. I stepped over +the heaps of bones to where the heavy oaken coffin lay under a tree. +Cautiously I pushed the arm back into its interior, and hammered the +rusty nails into their places again, just as the first rays of the +pale November sun touched a gleam of light from the metal plate on the +cover.--Then the weight was lifted from my soul. + + + +OTTO LARSSEN + + +_THE MANUSCRIPT_ + + +Two gentlemen sat chatting together one evening. + +Their daily business was to occupy themselves with literature. At the +present moment they were engaged in drinking whisky,--an occupation +both agreeable and useful,--and in chatting about books, the theater, +women and many other things. Finally they came around to that +inexhaustible subject for conversation, the mysterious life of the +soul, the hidden things, the Unknown, that theme for which Shakespeare +has given us an oft-quoted and oft-abused device, which one of them, +Mr. X., now used to point his remarks. Raising his glass, he looked at +himself meditatively in a mirror opposite, and, in a good imitation of +the manner of his favourite actor, he quoted: + + "There are more things in heaven and earth than are + dreamt of in thy philosophy, Horatio." + +Mr. Y. arranged a fresh glass for himself, and answered: + +"I believe it. I believe also that it is given but to a few chosen +ones to see these things. It never fell to my lot, I know. Fortunately +for me, perhaps. For,--at least so it appears to me,--these chosen +ones appear on closer investigation to be individuals of an abnormal +condition of brain. As far as I personally am concerned, I know of +nothing more strange than the usual logical and natural sequence of +events on our globe. I confess things do sometimes happen outside of +this orderly sequence; but for the cold-blooded and thoughtful person +the Strange, the apparently Inexplicable, usually turns out to be a +sum of Chance, that Chance we will never be quite clever enough to +fully take into our calculations. + +"As an instance I would like to tell you the story of what happened +several years back to a friend of mine, a young French writer. He had +a good, sincere mind, but he had also a strong leaning toward +mysticism,--something which was just then in danger of becoming as +much of a fashion in France as it is here now. The event of which I am +about to tell you threw him into what was almost a delirium, which +came near to robbing him of his normal intelligence, and therefore +came near to robbing French readers of a few excellent books. + +"This was the way it happened: + +"It was about ten years back, and I was spending the spring and summer +in Paris. I had a room with the family of a _concierge_ on the left +bank, rue de Vaugirard, near the Luxembourg Gardens. + +"A few steps from my modest domicile lived my friend Lucien F. We had +become acquainted through a chain of circumstances which do not belong +to this story, but these circumstances had made firm friends of us, a +friendship which was a source of great pleasure and also of assistance +to me in my study of Paris conditions. This friendship also enabled me +to enjoy better and cheaper whisky than one can usually meet with in +the city by the Seine, a real good 'Jameson Highland.' + +"Lucien F. had already published several books which had aroused +attention through the oddity of their themes, and their gratifying +success had made it possible for him to establish himself in a +comfortably furnished bachelor apartment on the corner of the rue de +Vaugirard and the rue de Cond. + +"The apartment had a corridor and three rooms; a dining room, a +bedroom, and a charming study with an inclosed balcony, the three +windows of which,--a large one in the center and two smaller ones at +the side,--sent a flood of light in over the great writing table which +filled nearly the entire balcony. Inside the room, near the balcony, +stood a divan covered with a bearskin rug. Upon this divan I spent +many of my hours in Paris, occupied in the smoking of my friend's +excellent cigars, and the sampling of his superlatively good whisky. +At the same time I could lie staring up at the tops of the trees in +the Luxembourg Gardens, while Lucien worked at his desk. For, unlike +most writers, he could work best when he was not alone. + +"If I remained away several days, he would invariably ring my bell +early some morning, and drag me out of bed with the remark: 'The +whisky is ready. I can't write if you are not there.' + +"During the particular days of which I shall tell you, he was engaged +in the writing of a fantastic novelette, 'The Force of the Wind,' a +work which interested him greatly, and which he would interrupt +unwillingly at intervals to furnish copy for the well-known newspaper +that numbered him among the members of its staff. His books were +printed by the same house that did the printing for the paper. + +"Often, as I lay in my favorite position on the divan, the bell would +ring and we would be honored by a visit from the printer's boy +Adolphe, a little fellow in a blue blouse, the true type of Paris +gamin. Adolphe rejoiced in a broken nose, a pair of crafty eyes, and +had his fists always full of manuscripts which he treated with a +carelessness that would have driven a literary novice to despair. The +long rolls of yellow paper would hang out of his trousers pockets as +if ready to fall apart at his next movement. And the disrespectful +manner in which he crammed my friend Lucien's scarcely dried essay +into the breast of his blouse would have certainly called forth +remarks from a journalist of more self-conceit. + +"But his eyes were so full of sly cunning, and there was such an +atmosphere of Paris about the stocky little fourteen-year-old chap, +that we would often keep him longer with us, and treat him to a glass +of anisette to hear his opinion of the writers whose work he handled. +He was an amusing cross between a tricky little Paris gamin and a real +child, and he hit off the characteristics of the various writers with +as keen a touch of actuality as he could put into his stories of how +many centimes he had won that morning at 'craps' from his friend +Pierre. Pierre was another employee of the printing house, Adolphe's +comrade in his study of the mysteries of Paris streets, and now his +rival. They were both in love with the same girl, the fifteen-year-old +daughter of the keeper of 'La Prunelle' Caf, and her favor was often +the prize of the morning's game. + +"Now and then this rivalry between the two young Parisians would drop +into a hand-to-hand fight. I myself was witness to such a skirmish one +day, in front of 'La Prunelle.' The rivals pulled each other's hair +mightily while the manuscripts flew about over the pavement, and +Virginie, in her short skirts, stood at the door of the caf and +laughed until she seemed about to shake to pieces. + +"Pierre was the strongest, and Adolphe came off with a bloody nose. He +gathered up his manuscripts in grim silence and left the battlefield +and the still laughing Virginie with an expression of deep anger on +his wounded face. + +"The following day, when I teased him a little because of his defeat, +he smiled a sly smile and remarked: + +"'Yes, but I won a franc from him, the big stupid animal. And so it +was I, after all, who took Virginie out that evening. We went to the +Caf "Nant," where I let them put me in the coffin and pretend to be +decaying, to amuse her. She thought it was lots of fun.' + +"One morning Lucien had come for me as usual, put me on the divan, and +seated himself at his writing table. He was just putting the last +words to his novel, and the table was entirely covered with the +scattered leaves, closely written. I could just see his neck as he sat +there, a thin-sinewed, expressive neck. He bent over his work, blind +and deaf for anything else. I lay there and gazed out over the tops of +the trees in the park up into the blue summer sky. The window on the +left side of the desk stood wide open, for it was a warm and sultry +day. I sipped my whisky slowly. The air was heavy, and thunder +threatened in the distance. After a little while the clouds gathered +together, heavy, low-hanging, copper-hued, real thunder clouds, and +the trees in the park rustled softly. The air was stifling, and lay +heavy as lead on my breast. + +"'Lucien!' + +"Lucien did not hear or see anything, his pen flew over the paper. + +"I fell back lazily on my divan. + +"Then suddenly, there was a mighty tumult. A strong gust of wind swept +through the street, bending the trees in the gardens quite out of my +horizon. With a crash the right-hand window in the balcony flew wide +open, and like a cyclone, the wind swept through, clearing the table +in an instant of all the loose sheets of paper that had lain scattered +about it. + +"'The devil! Why don't you shut the window!' I cried, springing up +from the sofa. + +"'Spare your energy, it's too late,' said Lucien with a gentle mockery +in his soft voice. 'Look there!'--he pointed out into the street, +where his sheets of paper went swirling about in the heavy air like +white doves. + +"A second later came the rain, a veritable cloud-burst. We shut the +windows and gave ourselves up to melancholy thoughts about the lost +manuscript, the recovery of which now seemed utterly hopeless. + +"'That's one thousand francs, at least, that the wind has robbed me +of,' sighed Lucien. 'Well, _elfin_, that doesn't matter so much. But +do you know anything more tiresome than to work over the same subject +a second time? I can't think of doing it. It would fairly make me sick +to try it.' + +"We were in a sad mood that morning. When we went out to breakfast at +about two o'clock, we looked about for some traces of the lost +manuscript. + +"There was nothing to be seen. It had vanished completely, whirled off +to all four corners of the earth probably, this manuscript from which +Lucien had expected so much. Truly it was 'The Force of the Wind.'" + + * * * * * + +"Now comes the strange part of the story. One morning, two weeks +later, Lucien stood in the door of my little room, pale as a ghost. He +had a bundle of printer's proofs in his hand, and held them out to me +without a word. + +"I looked at it and read: + +"'"The Force of the Wind," by Lucien F.' + +"It was a good bundle of proofs, the entire first proofs of Lucien's +novel, that novel the manuscript of which we had seen blown out of the +balcony window and whirled away by the winds. + +"'My dear man,' I exclaimed, as I handed him back the proofs. 'You +_have_ been industrious indeed, to write your entire novel over again +in so short a time--and to have proofs already----' + +"Lucien did not answer. He stood silent, staring at me with a weird +look in his otherwise so sensible eyes. After a moment he stammered: + +"'I did not write the novel over again. I have not touched a pen since +the day the manuscript blew out of the window.' + +"'Are you a sleep-walker, Lucien?' + +"'Why do you ask?' + +"'Why, that would be the only natural explanation. They say we can do +a great many things in sleep, of which we know nothing when we wake. +I've heard queer stories of that. Men have committed murders in their +sleep. It happens quite often that sleep-walkers write letters in a +handwriting they do not recognize when awake.' + +"'I have never been a sleep-walker,' answered Lucien. + +"'Oh, you never can tell,' I remarked. 'Would you rather explain it as +magic? Or as the work of fairies? Or do you believe in ghosts? Your +muse has fascinated you, you mystic!' And I laughed and trilled a line +from 'The Mascot,' which we had seen the evening before at the Lyric. + +"But my merriment did not seem to strike an answering note in Lucien. +He turned from me in silence, and with an offended expression took his +hat and his proofs, and--humorist and skeptic as he was ordinarily, he +parted from me with the words, uttered in a theatrical tone: + +"'There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamed of in thy +philosophy.' + +"He turned on his heel and left the room. + +"To be candid, I was unpleasantly affected by the little scene. I +could not for an instant doubt Lucien's honesty,--he was so pale, so +frightened almost--so touching in the alarm and excitement of his +soul. Of course the only explanation that I could see was that he had +written his novel in a sleep-walking state. + +"For certainly no printer could set up type from a manuscript that did +not exist,--to say nothing of printing it and sending out proofs. + +"Several days passed, but Lucien did not come near me. I went to his +place once or twice, but the door was locked. Had the devil carried +him off bodily? Or had this strange and inexplicable occurrence robbed +him of his sanity, and robbed me of his friendship and his excellent +whisky? + +"After three useless attempts to find him at home, and after writing +him a letter which he did not answer, I gave up Lucien without any +further attempt to understand his enigmatical behavior. A short time +after, I left for my home without having seen or heard anything more +of him. + +"Months passed. I remained at home, and one evening when, during the +course of a gay party, the conversation came around to the subject of +mysticism and occult occurrences, I dished up my story of the +enigmatical manuscript. The Unknown, the Occult, was the rage just +then, and my story was received with great applause and called forth +numerous quotations as to 'more things in heaven and earth.' I came to +think so much of it myself that I wrote it out and sent it to +Professor Flammarion, who was just then making a study of the Unknown, +which he preserved in his later book 'L'Inconnu.' + +"The occupying myself with the story brought my mind around again to +memories of Lucien. One day, I saw a notice in _Le Figaro_ to the +effect that his book, 'The Force of the Wind,' had appeared in a +second large edition, and had aroused much attention, particularly in +spiritualistic circles. I seemed to see him again before me, with his +long nervous neck, which was so expressive. The vision of this neck +rose up before me whenever I drank the same sort of whisky that I had +drunk so often with him, and the longing to hear something more of my +lost friend came over me. I sat down one evening when in a sentimental +mood, and wrote to him, asking him to tell me something of himself and +to send me his book. + +"A week later I received the little book and the following letter +which I have here in my pocket. It is somewhat crumpled, for I have +read it several times. But no matter. I will read it to you now, if +you will pardon my awkward translating of the French original. + +"Here it is: + +"DEAR FRIEND: + +"Many thanks for your letter. Here is the book. I have to thank you +also that you did not lay my behavior of your last days in Paris up +against me. It must have seemed strange to you. I will try to explain +it. + +"I have been nervous from childhood. The fact that most of my books +have treated of fantastic subjects,--somewhat in the manner of Edgar +Allan Poe--has made me more susceptible for all that world which lies +beyond and about the world of every-day life. I have sought +after,--and yet feared--the mystical; cool and lucid as I can be at +times, I have always had an inclination for the enigmatical, the +Unknown. + +"But the first thing that ever happened in my life that I could not +explain or understand was the affair of the manuscript. You remember +the day I stood in your room? I must have looked the picture of +misery. The affair had played more havoc with my nerves than you can +very well understand. Your mockery hurt me, and yet under all I felt +ashamed of my own thoughts concerning this foolish occurrence. I could +not explain the phenomenon, and I shivered at the things that it +suggested to me. In this condition, which lasted several weeks, I +could not bear to see you or anyone else, and I was impolite enough +even to leave your letter unanswered. + +"The book appeared and made a hit, since that sort of thing was the +center of interest just then. But almost a month passed before I could +arouse myself from that condition of fear and--I had almost said, +softening of the brain--which prevented my enjoyment of my success. + +"Then the explanation came. Thanks to this occurrence I know now that +I shall never again be in danger of being 'haunted.' + +"And I know now that Chance can bring about stranger happenings than +can any fancied visitations from the spirit world. Here you have the +story of this 'mystic' occurrence, which came near endangering my +sanity, and which turns out to be a chance combination of a gust of +wind, a sudden downpour of rain, and the strange elements in the +character of our little friend Adolphe the printer's boy. + +"You remember that funny little chap with the crafty eye, his talent +for gambling, and his admiration for the girl of 'La Prunelle'? A +queer little mixture this child who has himself alone to look to for +livelihood and care, the typical race of the Paris streets, the +modified gamin from 'Les Miserables.' + +"About a month after the appearance of my book I lay on the divan one +day,--your favorite place, you remember?--and lost myself in idle +reasonings on the same old subject that never left my mind day or +night, when the bell rang and Adolphe appeared, to call for the essay +on 'Le Boulevarde.' There was an unusually nervous gleam in his eyes +that day. I gave him an anisette and tried to find out what his +trouble was. I did find it out, and I found out a good deal more +besides. + +"Thanks to his good fortune as a gambler, Virginie came to look upon +him with favor. Pierre was quite out of the race and Adolphe's +affection was reciprocated as much as his heart could desire. But with +his good fortune in love came all the suffering, all the torture, the +suspicions that tear the hearts of us men when we set our hopes upon a +woman's truth. Young as he was he went through them all, and now he +was torturing himself with the thought that she did not really love +him and was only pretending, while she gave her heart to another. +Perhaps he was right--why not? + +"I talked to Adolphe as man to man, and managed to bring back a gleam +of his usual jollity and sly humor. He took another glass of anisette, +and said suddenly: + +"'M. Lucien--I did something----' + +"'Did what?' I asked. + +"'Something I should have told you long ago--it was wrong, and you've +always been so nice to me----' + +"You remember the day, two months ago, when we had such a sudden wind +and rain storm, a regular cloud-burst? I was down here in this +neighborhood fetching manuscripts from M. Labouchre and M. Laroy. I +was to have come up here for copy from you, too. But then--you'll +understand after all I've been telling you,--I came around past 'La +Prunelle' and Virginie stood in the doorway, and she'd promised to go +out with me that evening. So I ran up to speak to her. And then when I +went on again, I saw a sheet with your writing lying in the street. +You know I know all the gentlemen's writing, whose copy I fetch. Then +I was frightened. I thought to myself, 'The devil,' I thought, 'here +I've lost M. Lucien's manuscript.' I couldn't remember calling for it, +but I thought I must have done so before I got M. Laroy's. I can't +remember much except Virginie these days. I took up the sheet and saw +three others a little further on. And I saw a lot more shining just +behind the railing of the Luxembourg Garden. You know how hard it +rained. The water held the paper down, so the wind couldn't carry it +any further. I ran into the Garden and picked up all the sheets, +thirty-two of them. All of them, except the first four I found in the +street, had blown in behind the railing. And I can tell you I was +precious glad that I had them all together. I ran back to the office, +told them I had dropped the manuscript in the street, but asked them +not to say anything to you about it. But the sheets were all +there,--you always number them so clearly, and 'handsome August,' the +compositor, promised he wouldn't tell on me. I knew if the foreman +heard of it, he'd put me out, for he had a grudge against me. So +nobody knew anything about it. But I thought I ought to tell you, +'cause you've been so nice to me. Maybe you'll understand how one gets +queer at times, when a girl like Virginie tells you she likes you +better than Pierre, and yet you think she might deceive you for his +sake--that big, stupid animal--But now I'll be going. Much obliged for +your kindness, M. Lucien, and for the anisette--' And he left me. + +"There you have the explanation, the very simple and natural +explanation of the phenomenon that almost drove me crazy. + +"The entire 'supernatural' occurrence was caused by a careless boy's +love affairs, by a gust of southwest wind, by a sudden heavy rain, and +by the chance that I had used English ink, the kind that water cannot +blur. All these simple natural things made me act so foolishly toward +a good friend, the sort of friend I have always known you to be. Let +me hear from you, and tell me what you people up North think of my +book. I give you my word that the 'Unknown Powers' shall never again +make me foolish enough to risk losing your friendship! + +"Yours + +"LUCIEN." + +"So this is my story. Yes, 'there are more things in heaven and +earth--' But the workings of Chance are the strangest of all. And this +whisky is really very good. Here's to you." + + + +BERNHARD SEVERIN INGEMANN + + +_THE SEALED ROOM_ + + +For many years there stood in a side street in Kiel an unpretentious +old frame house which had a forbidding, almost sinister appearance, +with its old-fashioned balcony and its overhanging upper stories. For +the last twenty years the house had been occupied by a greatly +respected widow, Madame Wolff, to whom the dwelling had come by +inheritance. She lived there quietly with her one daughter, in +somewhat straitened circumstances. + +What gave the house a mysterious notoriety, augmenting the sinister +quality in its appearance, was the fact that one of its rooms, a +corner room on the main floor, had not been opened for generations. +The door was firmly fastened and sealed with plaster, as well as the +window looking out upon the street. Above the door was an old +inscription, dated 1603, which threatened sudden death and eternal +damnation to any human being who dared to open the door or efface the +inscription. Neither door nor window had been opened in the two +hundred years that had passed since the inscription was put up. But +for a generation back or more, the partition wall and the sealed door +had been covered with wall paper, and the inscription had been almost +forgotten. + +The room adjoining the sealed chamber was a large hall, utilized only +for rare important events. Such an occasion arose with the wedding of +the only daughter of the house. For that evening the great hall, as it +was called, was brilliantly decorated and illuminated for a ball. The +building had deep cellars and the old floors were elastic. Madame +Wolff had in vain endeavored to avoid using the great hall at all, for +the foolish old legend of the sealed chamber aroused a certain +superstitious dread in her heart, and she rarely if ever entered the +hall herself. But merry Miss Elizabeth, her pretty young daughter, was +passionately fond of dancing, and her mother had promised that she +should have a ball on her wedding day. Her betrothed, Secretary +Winther, was also a good dancer, and the two young people combated the +mother's prejudice against the hall and laughed at her fear of the +sealed room. They thought it would be wiser to appear to ignore the +stupid legend altogether, and thus to force the world to forget it. In +spite of secret misgivings Madame Wolff yielded to their arguments. +And for the first time in many years the merry strains of dance music +were heard in the great hall that lay next the mysterious sealed +chamber. + +The bridal couple, as well as the wedding guests, were in the gayest +mood, and the ball was an undoubted success. The dancing was +interrupted for an hour while supper was served in an adjoining room. +After the repast the guests returned to the hall, and it was several +hours more before the last dance was called. The season was early +autumn and the weather still balmy. The windows had been opened to +freshen the air. But the walls retained their dampness and suddenly +the dancers noticed that the old wall paper which covered the +partition wall between the hall and the sealed chamber had been +loosened through the jarring of the building, and had fallen away from +the sealed door with its mysterious inscription. + +The story of the sealed chamber had been almost forgotten by most of +those present, forgotten with many other old legends heard in +childhood. The inscription thus suddenly revealed naturally aroused +great interest, and there was a general curiosity to know what the +mysterious closed room might hide. Conjectures flew from mouth to +mouth. Some insisted that the closed door must hide the traces of a +hideous murder, or some other equally terrible crime. Others suggested +that perhaps the room had been used as a hiding place for garments and +other articles belonging to some person who had died of a pestilence, +and that the room had been sealed for fear of spreading the disease. +Still others thought that in the sealed chamber there might be found a +secret entrance from the cellars, which had made the room available as +a hiding place for robbers or smugglers. The guests had quite +forgotten their dancing in the interest awakened by the sight of the +mysterious door. + +"For mercy's sake, don't let's go too near it!" exclaimed some of the +young ladies. But the majority thought it would be great fun to see +what was hidden there. Most of the men said that they considered it +foolish not to have opened the door long ago, and examined the room. +The young bridegroom did not join in this opinion, however. He upheld +the decision of his mother-in-law not to allow any attempt to effect +an entrance into the room. He knew that there was a clause in the +title deeds to the house which made the express stipulation that no +owner should ever permit the corner room to be opened. There was +discussion among the guests as to whether such a clause in a title +deed could be binding for several hundred years, and many doubted its +validity at any time. But most of them understood why Madame Wolff did +not wish any investigation, even should any of those present have +sufficient courage to dare the curse and break open the door. + +"Nonsense! What great courage is necessary for that?" exclaimed +Lieutenant Flemming Wolff, a cousin of the bride of the evening. This +gentleman had a reputation that was not of the best. He was known to +live mostly on debt and pawn tickets, and was of a most quarrelsome +disposition. As a duelist he was feared because of his specialty. This +was the ability, and the inclination, through a trick in the use of +the foils, to disfigure his opponent's face badly, without at all +endangering his life. In this manner he had already sadly mutilated +several brave officers and students, who had had the bad luck to stand +up against him. He himself was anything but pleasant to look upon, his +natural plainness having been rendering repellent by a life of low +debauchery. He cherished a secret grudge against the bridegroom and +bitter feelings toward the bride, because the latter had so plainly +shown her aversion for him when he had ventured to pay suit to her. + +The family had not desired any open break with this disagreeable +relative, and had therefore sent him an invitation to the wedding. +They had taken it for granted that, under the circumstances, he would +prefer to stay away. But he had appeared at the ball, and, perhaps to +conceal his resentment, he had been the most indefatigable dancer of +the evening. At supper he had partaken freely of the strongest wines, +and was plainly showing the effect of them by this time. His eyes +rolled wildly, and those who knew him took care not to contradict him, +or to have anything to say to him at all. + +With a boastful laugh he repeated his assertion that it didn't take +much courage to open a sealed door, especially when there might be a +fortune concealed behind it. In his opinion it was cowardly to let +oneself be frightened by a century-old legend. _He_ wouldn't let that +bother him if _he_ had influence enough in the family to win the +daughter and induce the mother to give a ball in the haunted hall. +With this last hit he hoped to arouse the young husband's ire. But the +latter merely shrugged his shoulders and turned away with a smile of +contempt. + +Lieutenant Wolff fired up at this, and demanded to know whether the +other intended to call his, the lieutenant's, courage into question by +his behavior. + +"Not in the slightest, when it is a matter of obtaining a loan, or of +mutilating an adversary with a trick at fencing," answered the +bridegroom angrily, taking care, however, that neither the bride nor +any of the other ladies should hear his words. Then he continued in a +whisper: "But I don't believe you'd have the courage to remain here +alone and in darkness, before this closed door, for a single hour. If +you wish to challenge me for this doubt, I am at your disposal as soon +as you have proven me in the wrong. But I choose the weapons." + +"They must be chosen by lot, sir cousin," replied the lieutenant, his +cheek pale and his jaws set. "I will expect you to breakfast to-morrow +morning at eight o'clock." + +The bridegroom nodded, and took the other's cold dry hand for an +instant. The men who had overheard the short conversation looked upon +it as a meaningless incident, the memory of which would disappear from +the lieutenant's brain with the vanishing wine fumes. + +The ball was now over. The bride left the hall with her husband and +several of the guests who were to accompany the young couple to their +new home. The lights went out in the old house. The door of the +dancing hall had been locked from the outside. Lieutenant Flemming +Wolff remained alone in the room, having hidden himself in a dark +corner where he had not been seen by the servants, who had +extinguished the lights and locked the door. The night watchman had +just called out two o'clock when the solitary guest found himself, +still giddy from the heavy wine, alone in the great dark hall in front +of the mysterious door. + +The windows were at only a slight elevation from the street, and a +spring would take him to safety should his desire to remain there, or +to solve the mystery of the sealed room, vanish. But next morning all +the windows in the great hall were found closed, just as the servants +had left them the night before. The night watchman reported that he +had heard a hollow-sounding crash in that unoccupied part of the house +during the night. But that was nothing unusual, as there was a general +belief in the neighborhood that the house was haunted. + +For hollow noises were often heard there, and sounds as of money +falling on the floor, and rattling and clinking as of a factory +machine. Enlightened people, it is true, explained these sounds as +echoes of the stamping and other natural noises from a large stable +just behind the old house. But in spite of these explanations and +their eminent feasibility, the dread of the unoccupied portion of the +house was so great that not even the most reckless man servant could +be persuaded to enter it alone after nightfall. + +Next morning at eight o'clock Winther appeared at his mother-in-law's +door, saying that he had forgotten something of importance in the +great hall the night before. Madame Wolff had not yet arisen, but the +maid who let in the early visitor noticed with surprise that he had a +large pistol sticking out of one of his pockets. + +Winther had been to his cousin's apartment and found it locked. He now +entered the great hall, and at first glance thought it empty. To his +alarm and astonishment, however, he saw that the sealed door had been +broken open. He approached it with anxiety, and found his wife's +cousin, the doughty duelist, lying pale and lifeless on the threshold. +Beside him lay a large stone which had struck his head in falling and +must have killed him at once. Over the door was a hole in the wall, +just the size of the stone. The latter had evidently rested on the +upper edge of the door, and must certainly have fallen on its opening. +The unfortunate man lay half in the mysterious chamber and half in the +hall, just as he must have fallen when the stone struck him. + +The formal investigation of the closed room was made in the presence +of the police authorities. It contained nothing but a small safe which +was built into the wall. When the safe had been opened by force, an +inner chamber, which had to be broken open by itself, was found to +contain a number of rolls of gold pieces, many jewels and numerous +notes and I.O.U.'s. The treasure was covered by an old document. From +this latter it was learned that the owner of the house two hundred +years ago had been a silk weaver by the name of Flemming Ambrosius +Wolff. He was said to have lent money on security for many years, but +had died apparently a poor man, because he had so carefully hidden his +riches that little of it was found after his death. + +With a niggardliness that bordered on madness, he had believed that he +could hide his treasure forever by shutting it up in the sealed room. +The curse over the door was to frighten away any venturesome mortal, +and further security was given by the clause in the title deed. + +The universally disliked Lieutenant Flamming Wolff must have had many +characteristics in common with this disagreeable old ancestor, to +whose treasure he would have fallen heir had he not lost his life in +the discovering of it. The old miser had not hidden his wealth for all +eternity, as he had hoped, but had only brought about the inheriting +of it by Madame Wolff, the owner of the house, and the next of kin. +The first use to which this lady put the money was to tear down the +uncanny old building and to erect in its stead a beautiful new home +for her daughter and son-in-law. + + + +STEEN STEENSEN BLICHER + + +_THE RECTOR OF VEILBYE_ + + +These extracts from the diary of Erik Sorensen, District Judge, +followed by two written statements by the rector of Aals, give a +complete picture of the terrible events that took place in the parish +of Veilbye during Judge Sorensen's first year of office. Should anyone +be inclined to doubt the authenticity of these documents let him at +least have no doubt about the story, which is, alas! only too sadly +true. The memory of these events is still fresh in the district, and +the events themselves have been the direct cause of a change in the +method of criminal trials. A suspected murderer is now tried through +all the courts before his conviction can be determined. Readers versed +in the history of law will doubtless know by this during what epoch +the story is laid. + + + +I + +[_From the Diary of District Judge Erik Srensen_.] + + +Now am I, unworthy one, by the grace of God made judge over this +district. May the Great Judge above give me wisdom and uprightness +that I may fulfill my difficult task in all humility! From the Lord +alone cometh judgment. + +It is not good that man should live alone. Now that I am able to +support a wife I will look about me for a help-meet. I hear much good +said about the daughter of the Rector of Veilbye. Since her mother's +death she has been a wise and economical keeper of her father's house. +And as she and her brother the student are the only children, she will +inherit a tidy sum when the old man dies. + +Morten Bruus of Ingvorstrup was here to-day and wanted to make me a +present of a fat calf. But I answered him in the words of Moses, +"Cursed be he who taketh gifts." He is of a very quarrelsome nature, a +sharp bargainer, and a boastful talker. I do not want to have any +dealings with him, except through my office as judge. + +I have prayed to God for wisdom and I have consulted with my own +heart, and I believe that Mistress Mette Quist is the only woman with +whom I could live and die. But I will watch her for a time in secret. +Beauty is deceptive and charm is a dangerous thing. But I must say +that she is the most beautiful woman I have yet seen. + +I think that Morten Bruus a very disagreeable person--I scarcely know +why myself. But whenever I see him something comes over me, something +that is like the memory of an evil dream. And yet it is so vague and +so faint, that I could not say whether I had really ever seen the man +in my dreams or not. It may be a sort of presentiment of evil; who +knows? + +He was here again and offered me a pair of horses--beautiful +animals--at a ridiculously low price. It looked queer to me. I know +that he paid seventy thalers for them, and he wanted to let me have +them for the same price. They are at the least worth one hundred +thalers, if not more. Was it intended for a bribe? He may have another +lawsuit pending. I do not want his horses. + +I paid a visit to the Rector of Veilbye to-day. He is a fine, +God-fearing man, but somewhat quick-tempered and dictatorial. And he +is close with his money, too, as I could see. Just as I arrived a +peasant was with him trying to be let off the payment of part of his +tithe. The man is surely a rogue, for the sum is not large. But the +rector talked to him as I wouldn't have talked to a dog, and the more +he talked the more violent he became. + +Well, we all have our faults. The rector meant well in spite of his +violence, for later on he told his daughter to give the man a sandwich +and a good glass of beer. She is certainly a charming and sensible +girl. She greeted me in a modest and friendly manner, and my heart +beat so that I could scarcely say a word in reply. My head farm hand +served in the rectory three years. I will question him,--one often +hears a straight and true statement from servants. + +A surprise! My farm hand Rasmus tells me that Morten Bruus came +a-wooing to the rectory at Veilbye some years back, but was sent away +with a refusal. The rector seemed to be pleased with him, for the man +is rich. But his daughter would not hear to it at all. Pastor Sren +may have tried hard to persuade her to consent at first. But when he +saw how much she disliked the man he let her do as she would. It was +not pride on her part, Rasmus said, for she is as simple and modest as +she is good and beautiful. And she knows that her own father is +peasant-born as well as Bruus. + +Now I know what the Ingvorstrup horses were intended for. They were to +blind the judge and to lead him aside from the narrow path of +righteousness. The rich Morten Bruus covets poor Ole Andersen's peat +moor and pasture land. It would have been a good bargain for Morten +even at seventy thalers. But no indeed, my good fellow, you don't know +Erik Srensen! + +Rector Sren Quist of Veilbye came to see me this morning. He has a +new coachman, Niels Bruus, brother to the owner of Ingvorstrup. Niels +is lazy and impertinent. The rector wanted him arrested, but he had no +witnesses to back up his complaint. I advised him to get rid of the +man somehow, or else to get along with him the best he could until the +latter's time was up. The rector was somewhat hasty at first, but +later on he listened calmly and thanked me for my good advice. He is +inclined to be violent at times, but can always be brought to listen +to reason. We parted good friends. + +I spent a charming day in Veilbye yesterday. The rector was not at +home, but Mistress Mette received me with great friendliness. She sat +by the door spinning when I arrived, and it seemed to me that she +blushed. It was hardly polite for me to wait so long before speaking. +When I sit in judgement I never lack for words, but in the presence of +this innocent maiden I am as stupid as the veriest simpleton of a +chicken thief. But I finally found my voice and the time passed +quickly until the rector's return. Then Mistress Mette left us and did +not return until she brought in our supper. + +Just as she stepped through the doorway the rector was saying to me, +"Isn't it about time that you should think of entering into the holy +estate of matrimony?" (We had just been speaking of a recent very fine +wedding in the neighborhood.) Mistress Mette heard the words and +flushed a deep red. Her father laughed and said to her, "I can see, my +dear daughter, that you have been standing before the fire." + +I shall take the good man's advice and will very soon try my fate with +her. For I think I may take the rector's words to be a secret hint +that he would not object to me as a son-in-law. And the daughter? Was +her blush a favorable sign? + +Poor Ole Anderson keeps his peat moor and his pasture land, but rich +Morten Bruus is angry at me because of it. When he heard the decision +he closed his eyes and set his lips tight, and his face was as pale as +a whitewashed wall. But he controlled himself and as he went out he +called back to his adversary, "Wish you joy of the bargain Ole +Anderson. The peat bog won't beggar me, and the cattle at Ingvorstrup +have all the hay they can eat." I could hear his loud laughter outside +and the cracking of his whip. It is not easy to have to sit in +judgment. Every decision makes but one enemy the more. + +Yesterday was the happiest day of my life. We celebrated our betrothal +in the Rectory of Veilbye. My future father-in-law spoke to the text, +"I gave my handmaid into thy bosom" (Genesis xvi, 5). His words +touched my heart. I had not believed that this serious and sometimes +brusque man could talk so sweetly. When the solemnity was over, I +received the first kiss from my sweet betrothed, and the assurance of +her great love for me. + +At supper and later on we were very merry. Many of the dead mother's +kin were present. The rector's family were too far away. After supper +we danced until day-break and there was no expense spared in the food +and wine. My future father-in-law was the strongest man present, and +could easily drink all the others under the table. The wedding is to +take place in six weeks. God grant us rich blessings. + +It is not good that my future father-in-law should have this Niels +Bruus in his service. He is a defiant fellow, a worthy brother of him +of Ingvorstrup. If it were I, he should have his wages and be turned +off, the sooner the better. But the good rector is stubborn and +insists that Niels shall serve out his time. The other day he gave the +fellow a box on the ear, at which Niels cried out that he would make +him pay for it. The rector told me of this himself, for no one else +had been present. I talked to Niels, but he would scarcely answer me. +I fear he has a stubborn and evil nature. My sweet betrothed also +entreats her father to send the fellow away, but the rector will not +listen to reason. I do not know what the old man will do when his +daughter leaves his home for mine. She saves him much worry and knows +how to make all things smooth and easy. She will be a sweet wife for +me. + +As I thought, it turned out badly. But there is one good thing about +it, Niels has now run off of himself. The rector is greatly angered, +but I rejoice in secret that he is rid of that dangerous man. Bruus +will probably seek retaliation, but we have law and justice in the +land to order such matters. + +This was the way of it: The rector had ordered Niels to dig up a bit +of soil in the garden. After a time when he went out himself to look +at the work, he found Niels leaning on his spade eating nuts. He had +not even begun to dig. The rector scolded him, but the fellow answered +that he had not taken service as a gardener. He received a good box on +the ear for that. At this he threw away his spade and swore valiantly +at his master. The old rector lost his temper entirely, seized the +spade and struck at the man several times. He should not have done +this, for a spade is a dangerous weapon, especially in the hands of a +man as strong as is the pastor in spite of his years. Niels fell to +the ground as if dead. But when the pastor bent over him in alarm, he +sprang up suddenly, jumped the hedge and ran away to the woods. + +This is the story of the unfortunate affair as my father-in-law tells +it to me. My beloved Mette is much worried about it. She fears the man +may do harm to the cattle, or set fire to the house, or in some such +way take his revenge. But I tell her there is little fear of that. + +Three weeks more and my beloved leaves her father's house for mine. +She has been here and has gone over the house and the farm. She is +much pleased with everything and praises our orderliness. She is an +angel, and all who know her say that I am indeed a fortunate man. To +God be the praise! + +Strange, where that fellow Niels went to! Could he have left the +country altogether? It is an unpleasant affair in any case, and there +are murmurings and secret gossip among the peasants. The talk has +doubtless started in Ingvorstrup. It would not be well to have the +rector hear it. He had better have taken my advice, but it is not my +province to school a servant of God, and a man so much older than I. +The idle gossip may blow over ere long. I will go to Veilbye to-morrow +and find out if he has heard anything. + +The bracelet the goldsmith has made for me is very beautiful. I am +sure it will please my sweet Mette. + +My honored father-in-law is much distressed and down-hearted. +Malicious tongues have repeated to him the stupid gossip that is going +about in the district. Morten Bruus is reported to have said that "he +would force the rector to bring back his brother, if he had to dig him +out of the earth." The fellow may be in hiding somewhere, possibly at +Ingvorstrup. He has certainly disappeared completely, and no one seems +to know where he is. My poor betrothed is much grieved and worried. +She is alarmed by bad dreams and by presentiments of evil to come. + +God have mercy on us all! I am so overcome by shock and horror that I +can scarcely hold the pen. It has all come in one terrible moment, +like a clap of thunder. I take no account of time, night and morning +are the same to me and the day is but a sudden flash of lightning +destroying the proud castle of my hopes and desires. A venerable man +of God--the father of my betrothed--is in prison! And as a suspected +murderer! There is still hope that he may be innocent. But this hope +is but as a straw to a drowning man. A terrible suspicion rests upon +him----And I, unhappy man that I am, must be his judge. And his +daughter is my betrothed bride! May the Saviour have pity on us! + +It was yesterday that this horrible thing came. About half an hour +before sunrise Morten Bruus came to my house and had with him the +cotter Jens Larsen of Veilbye, and the widow and daughter of the +shepherd of that parish. Morten Bruus said to me that he had the +Rector of Veilbye under suspicion of having killed his brother Niels. +I answered that I had heard some such talk but had regarded it as idle +and malicious gossip, for the rector himself had assured me that the +fellow had run away. "If that was so," said Morten, "if Niels had +really intended to run away, he would surely at first come to me to +tell me of it. But it is not so, as these good people can prove to +you, and I demand that you shall hear them as an officer of the law." + +"Think well of what you are doing," I said. "Think it over well, +Morten Bruus, and you, my good people. You are bringing a terrible +accusation against a respected and unspotted priest and man of God. If +you can prove nothing, as I strongly suspect, your accusations may +cost you dear." + +"Priest or no priest," cried Bruus, "it is written, 'thou shalt not +kill!' And also is it written, that the authorities bear the sword of +justice for all men. We have law and order in the land, and the +murderer shall not escape his punishment, even if he have the district +judge for a son-in-law." + +I pretended not to notice his thrust and began, "It shall be as you +say. Kirsten Mads' daughter, what is it that you know of this matter +in which Morten Bruus accuses your rector? Tell the truth, and the +truth only, as you would tell it before the judgment seat of the +Almighty. The law will demand from you that you shall later repeat +your testimony under oath." + +The woman told the following story: The day on which Niels Bruus was +said to have run away from the rectory, she and her daughter were +passing along the road near the rectory garden a little after the noon +hour. She heard some one calling and saw that it was Niels Bruus +looking out through the garden hedge. He asked the daughter if she did +not want some nuts and told the women that the rector had ordered him +to dig in the garden, but that he did not take the command very +seriously and would much rather eat nuts. At that moment they heard a +door open in the house and Niels said, "Now I'm in for a scolding." He +dropped back behind the hedge and the women heard a quarrel in the +garden. They could hear the words distinctly but they could see +nothing, as the hedge was too high. They heard the rector cry, "I'll +punish you, you dog. I'll strike you dead at my feet!" Then they heard +several sounding slaps, and they heard Niels curse back at the rector +and call him evil names. The rector did not answer this, but the women +heard two dull blows and saw the head of a spade and part of the +handle rise and fall twice over the hedge. Then it was very quiet in +the garden, and the widow and her daughter were frightened and hurried +on to their cattle in the field. The daughter gave the same testimony, +word for word. I asked them if they had not seen Niels Bruus coming +out of the garden. But they said they had not, although they had +turned back several times to look. + +This accorded perfectly with what the rector had told me. It was not +strange that the women had not seen the man run out of the garden, for +he had gone toward the wood which is on the opposite side of the +garden from the highroad. I told Morten Bruus that this testimony was +no proof of the supposed murder, especially as the rector himself had +narrated the entire occurrence to me exactly as the women had +described it. But he smiled bitterly and asked me to examine the third +witness, which I proceeded to do. + +Jens Larsen testified that he was returning late one evening from +Tolstrup (as he remembered, it was not the evening of Niels Bruus's +disappearance, but the evening of the following day), and was passing +the rectory garden on the easterly side by the usual footpath. From +the garden he heard a noise as of some one digging in the earth. He +was frightened at first for it was very late, but the moon shone +brightly and he thought he would see who it was that was at work in +the garden at that hour. He put off his wooden shoes and pushed aside +the twigs of the hedge until he had made a peep hole. In the garden he +saw the rector in his usual house coat, a white woolen nightcap on his +head. He was busily smoothing down the earth with the flat of his +spade. There was nothing else to be seen. Just then the rector had +started and partly turned toward the hedge, and the witness, fearing +he might be discovered, slipped down and ran home hastily. + +Although I was rather surprised that the rector should be working in +his garden at so late an hour, I still saw nothing in this statement +that could arouse suspicion of murder. I gave the complainant a solemn +warning and advised him not only to let fall his accusation, but to +put an end to the talk in the parish. He replied, "Not until I see +what it is that the rector buried in his garden." + +"That will be too late," I said. "You are playing a dangerous game. +Dangerous to your own honor and welfare." + +"I owe it to my brother," he replied, "and I demand that the +authorities shall not refuse me assistance." + +My office compelled me to accede to his demands. Accompanied by the +accuser and his witnesses I took my way to Veilbye. My heart was very +heavy, not so much because of any fear that we might find the missing +man buried in the garden, but because of the surprise and distress I +must cause the rector and my beloved. As we went on our way I thought +over how severely the law would allow me to punish the calumniators. +But alas, Merciful Heavens! What a terrible discovery was in store for +me! + +I had wished to have a moment alone with the rector to prepare him for +what was coming. But as I drove through the gate Morten Bruus spurred +his horse past me and galloped up to the very door of the house just +as the rector opened it. Bruus cried out in his very face, "People say +that you have killed my brother and buried him in your garden. I am +come with the district judge to seek for him." + +The poor rector was so shocked and astounded that he could not find a +word to answer. I sprang from my wagon and addressed him: "You have +now heard the accusation. I am forced by my office to fulfill this +man's demands. But your own honor demands that the truth shall be +known and the mouth of slander silenced." + +"It is hard enough," began the rector finally, "for a man in my +position to have to clear himself from such a suspicion. But come with +me. My garden and my entire house are open to you." + +We went through the house to the garden. On the way we met my +betrothed, who was startled at seeing Bruus. I managed to whisper +hastily to her, "Do not be alarmed, dear heart. Your enemies are going +to their own destruction." Morten Bruus led the way to the eastern +side of the garden near the hedge. We others followed with the +rector's farm hands, whom he himself had ordered to join us with +spades. + +The accuser stood and looked about him until we approached. Then he +pointed to one spot. "This looks as if the earth had been disturbed +lately. Let us begin here." + +"Go to work at once," commanded the rector angrily. + +The men set to work, but they were not eager enough to suit Bruus, who +seized a spade himself to fire them on. A few strokes only sufficed to +show that the firm earth of this particular spot had not been touched +for many years. We all rejoiced--except Bruus--and the rector was very +happy. He triumphed openly over his accuser, and laughed at him, +"Can't you find anything, you libeler?" + +Bruus did not answer. He pondered for a few moments, then called out, +"Jens Larsen, where was it you saw the rector digging?" + +Jens Larsen had been standing to one side with his hands folded, +watching the work. At Bruus's words he aroused himself as if from a +dream, looked around him and pointed to a corner of the garden several +yards from where we stood. "I think it was over there." + +"What's that, Jens!" cried the rector angrily. "When did I dig here?" + +Paying no heed to his, Morten Bruus called the men to the corner in +question. The earth here was covered by some withered cabbage stalks, +broken twigs, and other brush which he pushed aside hurriedly. The +work began anew. + +I stood by the rector talking calmly with him about the punishment we +could mete out to the dastardly accuser, when one of the men suddenly +cried out with an oath. We looked toward them; there lay a hat half +buried in the loose earth. "We have found him," cried Bruus. "That is +Niels's hat; I would know it anywhere." + +My blood seemed turned to ice. All my hopes dashed to the ground. +"Dig! Dig!" cried the bloodthirsty accuser, working himself with all +his might. I looked at the rector. He was ghastly pale, staring with +wide-open eyes at the horrible spot. + +Another shot! A hand was stretched up through the earth as if to greet +the workers. "See there!" screamed Bruus. "He is holding out his hand +to me. Wait a little, Brother Niels! You will soon be avenged!" + +The entire corpse was soon uncovered. It was the missing man. His face +was not recognizable, as decomposition had begun, and the nose was +broken and laid flat by a blow. But all the garments, even to the +shirt with his name woven into it, were known to those who stood +there. In one ear was a leaden ring, which, as we all knew, Niels +Bruus had worn for many years. + +"Now, priest," cried Morten Bruus, "come and lay your hand on this +dead man if you dare to!" + +"Almighty God!" sighed the rector, looking up to heaven, "Thou art my +witness that I am innocent. I struck him, that I confess, and I am +bitterly sorry for it. But he ran away. God Almighty alone knows who +buried him here." + +"Jens Larsen knows also," cried Bruus, "and I may find more witnesses. +Judge! You will come with me to examine his servants. But first of all +I demand that you shall arrest this wolf in sheep's clothing." + +Merciful God, how could I doubt any longer? The truth was clear to all +of us. But I was ready to sink into the earth in my shock and horror. +I was about to say to the rector that he must prepare to follow me, +when he himself spoke to me, pale and trembling like an aspen leaf. +"Appearances are against me," he said, "but this is the work of the +devil and his angels. There is One above who will bring my innocence +to light. Come, judge, I will await my fate in fetters. Comfort my +daughter. Remember that she is your betrothed bride." + +He had scarcely uttered the words when I heard a scream and a fall +behind us. It was my beloved who lay unconscious on the ground. I +thought at first that she was dead, and God knows I wished that I +could lie there dead beside her. I raised her in my arms, but her +father took her from me and carried her into the house. I was called +to examine the wound on the dead man's head. The cut was not deep, but +it had evidently fractured the skull, and had plainly been made by a +blow from a spade or some similar blunt instrument. + +Then we all entered the house. My beloved had revived again. She fell +on my neck and implored me, in the name of God, to help her father in +his terrible need. She begged me by the memory of our mutual love to +let her follow him to prison, to which I consented. I myself +accompanied him to Grenaa, but with a mournful heart. None of us spoke +a word on the sad journey. I parted from them in deep distress. The +corpse was laid in a coffin and will be buried decently to-morrow in +Veilbye churchyard. + +To-morrow I must give a formal hearing to the witnesses. God be +merciful to me, unfortunate man! + +Would that I had never obtained this position for which I--fool that I +am--strove so hard. + +As the venerable man of God was brought before me, fettered hand and +foot, I felt as Pilate must have felt as they brought Christ before +him. It was to me as if my beloved--God grant her comfort, she lies +ill in Grenaa--had whispered to me, "Do nothing against that good +man!" + +Oh, if he only were innocent, but I see no hope! + +The three first witnesses repeated their testimony under oath, word +for word. Then came statements by the rector's two farm hands and the +dairy maid. The men had been in the kitchen on the fatal day, and as +the windows were open they had heard the quarrel between the rector +and Niels. As the widow had stated, these men had also heard the +rector say, "I will strike you dead at my feet!" They further +testified that the rector was very quick-tempered, and that when +angered he did not hesitate to strike out with whatever came into his +hand. He had struck a former hand once with a heavy maul. + +The girl testified that on the night Jens Larsen claimed to have seen +the rector in the garden, she had lain awake and heard the creaking of +the garden door. When she looked out of the window she had seen the +rector in his dressing gown and nightcap go into the garden. She could +not see what he was doing there. But she heard the door creak again +about an hour later. + +When the witnesses had been heard, I asked the unfortunate man whether +he would make a confession, or else, if he had anything to say in his +own defense. He crossed his hands over his breast and said, "So help +me God, I will tell the truth. I have nothing more to say than what I +have said already. I struck the dead man with my spade. He fell down, +but jumped up in a moment and ran away from the garden out into the +woods. What may have happened to him there, or how he came to be +buried in my garden, this I do not know. When Jens Larsen and my +servant testify that they saw me at night in the garden, either they +are lying, or Satan has blinded them. I can see this--unhappy man that +I am--that I have no one to turn to for help here on earth. Will He +who is in heaven be silent also, then must I bow to His inscrutable +will." He bowed his head with a deep sigh. + +Some of those present began to weep, and a murmur arose that he might +possibly be innocent. But this was only the effect of the momentary +sympathy called out by his attitude. My own heart indeed spoke for +him. But the judge's heart may not dare to dictate to his brain or to +his conscience. My conviction forced me to declare that the rector had +killed Niels Bruus, but certainly without any premeditation or +intention to do so. It is true that Niels Bruus had often been heard +to declare that he would "get even with the rector when the latter +least expected it." But it is not known that he had fulfilled his +threat in any way. Every man clings to life and honor as long as he +can. Therefore the rector persists in his denial. My poor, dear Mette! +She is lost to me for this life at least, just as I had learned to +love her so dearly. + +I have had a hard fight to fight to-day. As I sat alone, pondering +over this terrible affair in which it is my sad lot to have to give +judgment, the door opened and the rector's daughter--I may no longer +call her my betrothed--rushed in and threw herself at my feet. I +raised her up, clasped her in my arms and we wept together in silence. +I was first to control myself. "I know what you would say, dear heart. +You want me to save your father. Alas, God help us poor mortals, I +cannot do it! Tell me, dearest one, tell me truly, do you yourself +believe your father to be innocent?" + +She crossed her hands on her heart and sobbed, "I do not know!" Then +she burst into tears again. "But he did not bury him in the garden," +she continued after a few moments. "The man may have died in the wood +from the blow. That may have happened----" + +"But, dearest heart," I said, "Jen Larsen and the girl saw your father +in the garden that night." + +She shook her head slowly and answered, "The evil one blinded their +eyes." She wept bitterly again. + +"Tell me, beloved," she began again, after a while, "tell me frankly +this much. If God sends us no further enlightenment in this +unfortunate affair, what sentence must you give?" + +She gazed anxiously at me, her lips trembling. + +"If I did not believe," I began slowly, "that anyone else in my place +would be more severe than I, then I would gladly give up my position +at once and refuse to speak the verdict. But I dare not conceal from +you that the mildest sentence that God, our king, and our laws demand +is, a life for a life." + +She sank to her knees, then sprang up again, fell back several steps +as if afraid of me, and cried out: "Would you murder my father? Would +you murder your betrothed bride? See here! See this!" She came nearer +and held up her hand with my ring on it before my eyes. "Do you see +this betrothal ring? What was it my father said when you put this ring +upon my finger? 'I have given my maid unto thy bosom!' But you, you +thrust the steel deep into my bosom!" + +Alas, every one of her words cut deep into my own heart. "Dearest +love," I cried, "do not speak so. You thrust burning irons into my +heart. What would you have me do? Acquit him, when the laws of God and +man condemn?" + +She was silent, sobbing desperately. + +"One thing I can do," I continued. "If it be wrong may God forgive me. +If the trial goes on to an end his life is forfeited, there is no hope +except in flight. If you can arrange an escape I will close my eyes. I +will not see or hear anything. As soon as your father was imprisoned, +I wrote to your brother in Copenhagen. He can arrive any moment now. +Talk to him, make friends with the jailer. If you lack money, all I +have is yours." + +When I had finished her face flushed with joy, and she threw her arms +about my neck. "God bless you for these words. Were my brother but +here, he will know what to do. But where shall we go?" her tone +changed suddenly and her arms dropped. "Even should we find a refuge +in a foreign country I could never see you again!" Her tone was so sad +that my heart was near to breaking. + +"Beloved," I exclaimed, "I will find you wherever you may hide +yourself! Should our money not be sufficient to support us I can work +for us all. I have learned to use the ax and the hoe." + +She rejoiced again and kissed me many times. We prayed to God to bless +our undertaking and parted with glad hearts. I also hoped for the +best. Doubts assail me, but God will find for us some light in this +darkness. + +Two more new witnesses. They bring nothing good, I fear, for Bruus +announced them with an expression I did not like. He has a heart of +stone, which can feel nothing but malice and bitterness. I give them a +hearing to-morrow. I feel as if they had come to bear witness against +me myself. May God strengthen my heart. + +All is over. He has confessed. + +The court was in session and the prisoner had been brought in to hear +the testimony of the new witnesses. These men stated as follows: On +the night in question they were walking along the path that led +between the woods and the rectory garden. A man with a large sack on +his back came out of the woods and walked ahead of them toward the +garden. They could not see his face, but in the bright moonlight his +figure was clearly visible, and they could see that he wore a loose +green garment, like a dressing gown, and a white nightcap. The man +disappeared through an opening in the rectory garden fence. + +Scarcely had the first witness ended his statement when the rector +turned ghastly pale, and gasped, in a voice that could scarcely be +heard, "I am ill." They gave him a chair. + +Bruus turned to his neighbor and exclaimed audibly, "That helped the +rector's memory." + +The prisoner did not hear the words, but motioned to me and said, +"Lead me back to my prison. I will talk to you there." They did as he +demanded. + +We set out at once for Grenaa. The rector was in the wagon with the +jailer and the gendarme, and I rode beside them. + +When the door of the cell was opened my beloved was making up her +father's bed, and over a chair by the bedside hung the fatal green +dressing gown. My dear betrothed greeted me with a cry of joy, as she +believed that I was come to set her father free. She hung about the +old man's neck, kissing away the tears that rolled unhindered down his +cheeks. I had not the heart to undeceive her, and I sent her out into +the town to buy some things for us. + +"Sit down, dear friend," said the rector, when we were alone. He +seated himself on the bed, staring at the ground with eyes that did +not see. Finally he turned toward me where I sat trembling, as if it +were my own sentence I was to hear, as in a manner it was. "I am a +great sinner," he sighed, "God only knows how great. His punishment +crushes me here that I may enter into His mercy hereafter." + +He grew gradually calmer and began: + +"Since my childhood I have been hot-tempered and violent. I could +never endure contradiction, and was always ready to give a blow. But I +have seldom let the sun go down upon my wrath, and I have never borne +hatred toward any man. As a half-grown boy I killed our good, kind +watchdog in one of my fits of rage for some trifling offense, and I +have never ceased to regret it. Later, as a student in Leipzig, I let +myself be carried away sufficiently to wound seriously my adversary in +one of our fencing bouts. A merciful fate alone saved me from becoming +a murderer then. It is for these earlier sins that I am now being +punished, but the punishment falls doubly hard, now that I am an old +man, a priest, a servant of the Lord of Peace, and a father! Ah, that +is the deepest wound!" He sprang up and wrung his hands in deep +despair. I would have said something to comfort him, but I could find +no words for such sorrow. + +When he had controlled himself somewhat he sat down again and +continued: "To you, once my friend and now my judge, I will confess +this crime, which it seems beyond a doubt that I have committed, +although I am not conscious cf having done so." (I was startled at +this, as I had expected a remorseful confession.) "Listen well to what +I shall now tell you. That I struck the unfortunate man with the +spade, that he fell down and then ran away, this is all that I know +with full consciousness.... What followed then? Four witnesses have +seen that I fetched the body and buried it in my garden--and now at +last I am forced to believe that it must be true. These are my reasons +for the belief. Three or four times in my life I have walked in my +sleep. The last time--it may have been nine or ten years ago--I was to +have held a funeral service on the following day, over the body of a +man who had died a sudden and terrible death. I could not find a +suitable text, until suddenly there came to me the words of an old +Greek philosopher, 'Call no man fortunate until his death.' It was in +my mind that the same idea was expressed in different words in the +Holy Scriptures. I sought and sought, but could not find it. At last I +went to bed much fatigued, and slept soundly. Next morning, when I sat +down at my desk, to my great astonishment I saw there a piece of +paper, on which was written, 'Call no man happy until his end hath +come' (Sirach xi. 34), and following it was a funeral sermon, short, +but as good in construction as any I have ever written. And all this +was in my own handwriting. It was quite out of the question that +anyone could have entered the room during the night, as I had locked +it myself, and it had not been opened until I entered next day. I knew +what had happened, as I could remember one or two such occurrences in +my life before. + +"Therefore, dear friend, when the last witnesses gave their testimony +to-day, I suddenly remembered my sleep-walking exploits, and I also +remembered, what had slipped my mind before, that on the morning after +the night the body was buried I had found my dressing gown in the hall +outside of my bedroom. This had surprised me, as I always hung it over +a chair near my bed. The unfortunate victim of my violence must have +died in the woods from his wound, and in my dream consciousness I must +have seen this and gone to fetch the body. It must be so. I know no +other explanation. God have mercy on my sinful soul." He was silent +again, covering his face with his hands and weeping bitterly. + +I was stuck dumb with astonishment and uncertainty. I had always +suspected that the victim had died on the spot where he was buried, +although I could not quite understand how the rector had managed to +bury the body by day without being seen. But I thought that he might +have covered it lightly with earth and twigs and finished his work at +night. He was a man of sufficient strength of mind to have done this. +When the latest witnesses were telling their story, I noted the +possible contradiction, and hoped it might prove a loophole of escape. +But, alas, it was all only too true, and the guilt of the rector +proven beyond a doubt. It was not at all impossible for a man to do +such things in his sleep. Just as it was quite possible that a man +with a fractured skull could run some distance before he fell to die. +The rector's story bore the stamp of truth, although the doubt _will_ +come that he desired thus to save a shred of honor for his name. + +The prisoner walked up and down the room several times, then stopping +before me he said gravely: "You have now heard my confession, here in +my prison walls. It is your mouth that must speak my sentence. But +what says your heart?" + +I could scarcely utter the words, "My heart suffers beyond expression. +I would willingly see it break if I could but save you from a shameful +death." (I dared not mention to him my last hope of escape in flight.) + +"That is impossible," he answered. "My life is forfeited. My death is +just, and shall serve as a warning to others. But promise me that you +will not desert my poor daughter. I had thought to lay her in your +arms"--tears choked his voice--"but, alas, that fond hope is vanished. +You cannot marry the daughter of a sentenced murderer. But promise me +that you will watch over her as her second father." In deep sorrow and +in tears I held his hand in mine. "Have you any news from my son?" he +began again. "I hope it will be possible to keep him in ignorance of +this terrible affair until--until it is all over. I could not bear to +see him now. And now, dear friend, let us part, not to meet again +except in the hall of justice. Grant me of your friendship one last +service, let it end soon. I long for death. Go now, my kind, +sympathetic judge. Send for me to-morrow to speak my sentence, and +send to-day for my brother in God, the pastor in Aals. He shall +prepare me for death. God be with you." + +He gave me his hand with his eyes averted. I staggered from the +prison, hardly conscious of what I was doing. I would have ridden home +without seeing his daughter had she not met me by the prison door. She +must have seen the truth in my face, for she paled and caught at my +arm. She gazed at me with her soul in her eyes, but could not speak. +"Flee! Save your father in flight!" was all I could say. + +I set spurs to my horse and rode home somehow. + +To-morrow, then! + +The sentence is spoken. + +The accused was calmer than the judge. All those present, except his +bitter enemy, were affected almost to tears. Some whispered that the +punishment was too severe. + +May God be a milder judge to me than I, poor sinner, am forced to be +to my fellow men. + +She has been here. She found me ill in bed. There is no escape +possible. He will not flee. Everything was arranged and the jailer was +ready to help. But he refuses, he longs for death. God be merciful to +the poor girl. How will she survive the terrible day? I am ill in body +and soul, I can neither aid nor comfort her. There is no word from the +brother. + +I feel that I am near death myself, as near perhaps as he is, whom I +sent to his doom. Farewell, my own beloved bride.... What will she do? +she is so strangely calm--the calm of wordless despair. Her brother +has not yet come, and to-morrow--on the Ravenshill----! + +Here the diary of Erik Srensen stopped suddenly. What followed can be +learned from the written and witnessed statements of the pastor of +Aals, the neighboring parish to Veilbye. + + +II + +It was during the seventeenth year of my term of office that the +terrible event happened in the neighborhood which filled all who heard +of it with shock and horror, and brought shame and disgrace upon our +holy calling. The venerable Sren Quist, Rector of Veilbye, killed his +servant in a fit of rage and buried the body in his garden. + +He was found guilty at the official trial, through the testimony of +many witnesses, as well as through his own confession. He was +condemned to death, and the sentence was carried out in the presence +of several thousand people on the little hill known as Ravenshill, +here in the field of Aals. + +The condemned man had asked that I might visit him in his prison. I +must state that I have never given the holy sacrament to a better +prepared or more truly repentant Christian. He was calm to the last, +full of remorse for his great sin. On the field of death he spoke to +the people in words of great wisdom and power, preaching to the text +from the Lamentations of Jeremiah, chap. ii., verse 6: "He hath +despised the priest in the indignation of his anger." He spoke of his +violence and of its terrible results, and of his deep remorse. He +exhorted his hearers to let his sin and his fate be an example to +them, and a warning not to give way to anger. Then he commended his +soul to the Lord, removed his upper garments, bound up his eyes with +his own hand, then folded his hands in prayer. When I had spoken the +words, "Brother, be of good cheer. This day shalt thou be with thy +Saviour in Paradise," his head fell by the ax. + +The one thing that made death bitter for him was the thought of his +children. The son had been sent for from Copenhagen, but as we +afterwards learned, he had been absent from the city, and therefore +did not arrive until shortly after his father had paid the penalty for +his crime. + +I took the daughter into my home, where she was brought, half +fainting, after they had led her father from the prison. She had been +tending him lovingly all the days of his trial. What made even greater +sorrow for the poor girl, and for the district judge who spoke the +sentence, was that these two young people had solemnly plighted their +troth but a few short weeks before, in the rectory of Veilbye. The son +arrived just as the body of the executed criminal was brought into my +house. It had been permitted to us to bury the body with Christian +rites, if we could do it in secret. The young man threw himself over +the lifeless body. Then, clasping his sister in his arms, the two wept +together in silence for some while. At midnight we held a quiet +service over the remains of the Rector of Veilbye, and the body was +buried near the door of Aals church. A simple stone, upon which I +have carved a cross, still stands to remind the passer-by of the sin +of a most unfortunate man. + +The next morning his two children had disappeared. They have never +been heard of since. God knows to what far-away corner of the world +they have fled, to hide their shame and their sorrow. The district +judge is very ill, and it is not believed that he will recover. + +May God deal with us all after His wisdom and His mercy! + +O Lord, inscrutable are thy ways! + +In the thirty-eighth year of my service, and twenty-one years after my +unfortunate brother in office, the Rector of Veilbye had been beheaded +for the murder of his servant, it happened one day that a beggar came +to my door. He was an elderly man, with gray hair, and walked with a +crutch. He looked sad and needy. None of the servants were about, so I +myself went into the kitchen and gave him a piece of bread. I asked +him where he came from. He sighed and answered: + +"From nowhere in particular." + +Then I asked him his name. He sighed still deeper, looked about him as +if in fear, and said, "They once called me Niels Bruus." + +I was startled, and said, "God have mercy on us! That is a bad name. +That is the name of a man who was killed many years back." + +Whereat the man sighed still deeper and replied: "It would have been +better for me had I died then. It has gone ill with me since I left +the country." + +At this the hair rose on my head, and I trembled in every limb. For it +seemed to me that I could recognize him, and also it seemed to me that +I saw Morten Bruus before me in the flesh, and yet I had laid the +earth over him three years before. I stepped back and made the sign of +the cross, for verily I thought it was a ghost I saw before me. + +But the man sat down in the chimney corner and continued to speak. +"Reverend father, they tell me my brother Morten is dead. I have been +to Ingvorstrup, but the new owner chased me away. Is my old master, +the Rector of Veilbye, still alive?" Then it was that the scales fell +from my eyes and I saw into the very truth of this whole terrible +affair. But the shock stunned me so that I could not speak. The man +bit into his bread greedily and went on. "Yes, that was all Brother +Morten's fault. Did the old rector have much trouble about it?" + +"Niels! Niels!" I cried from out the horror of my soul, "you have a +monstrous black sin upon your conscience! For your sake that +unfortunate man fell by the ax of the executioner!" + +The bread and the crutch fell from his hand, and he himself was near +to falling into the fire. "May God forgive you, Morten!" he groaned. +"God knows I didn't mean anything like that. May my sin be forgiven +me! But surely you only mean to frighten me! I come from far away, and +have heard nothing. No one but you, reverend father, has recognized +me. I have told my name to no one. When I asked them in Veilbye if the +rector was still there, they said that he was." + +"That is the new rector," I replied. "Not he whom you and your sinful +brother have slain." + +He wrung his hands and cried aloud, and then I knew that he had been +but a tool in the hands of that devil, Morten. Therefore I set to work +to comfort him, and took him into my study that he might calm himself +sufficiently to tell me the detail of this Satan's work. + +This was the story as he tells it: His brother Morten--truly a son of +Belial--cherished a deadly hatred toward pastor Sren Quist since the +day the latter had refused him the hand of his daughter. As soon as he +heard that the pastor's coachman had left him, he persuaded Niels to +take the place. + +"Watch your chance well," he had said, "we'll play the black coat a +trick some day, and you will be no loser by it." + +Niels, who was rough and defiant by nature, soon came to a quarrel +with his master, and when he had received his first chastisement, he +ran at once to Ingvorstrup to report it. "Let him strike you just once +again," said Morten. "Then come to me, and we will pay him for it." + +Then came the quarrel in the garden, and Niels ran off to Ingvorstrup. +He met his brother in the woods and told him what had occurred. + +"Did anyone see you on the way here?" asked Morten. + +Niels thought not. "Good," said Morten; "now we'll give him a fright +that he will not forget for a week or so." + +He led Niels carefully to the house, and kept him hidden there the +rest of the day. When all the household else had gone to sleep the two +brothers crept out, and went to a field where several days before they +had buried the body of a man of about Niels' age, size, and general +appearance. (He had hanged himself, some said because of ill-treatment +from Morten, in whose service he was. Others said it was because of +unhappy love.) They dug up the corpse, although Niels did not like the +work, and protested. But Morten was the stronger, and Niels had to do +as he was ordered. They carried the body back with them into the +house. + +Then Niels was ordered to take off all his clothes, piece by piece, +even to his shirt, and dress the dead man in them. Even his leaden +earring, which he had worn for many years, was put in the ear of the +corpse. After this was done, Morten took a spade and gave the head of +the corpse two crashing blows, one over the nose, the other on the +temple. The body was hidden in a sack and kept in the house during the +next day. At night the day following, they carried it out to the wood +near Veilbye. + +Several times Niels had asked of his brother what all this preparation +boded. But Morten answered only, "That is my affair. Do as I tell you, +and don't ask questions." + +When they neared the edge of the wood by Veilbye, Morten said, "Now +fetch me one of the coats the pastor wears most. If you can, get the +green dressing gown I have often seen him wear mornings." + +"I don't dare," said Niels, "he keeps it in his bed chamber." + +"Well, then, I'll dare it myself," said Morten. "And now, go your way, +and never show yourself here again. Here is a bag with one hundred +thalers. They will last you until you can take service somewhere in +another country. Go where no one has ever seen you, and take another +name. Never come back to Denmark again. Travel by night, and hide in +the woods by day until you are well away from here. Here are +provisions enough to last you for several days. And remember, never +show yourself here again, as you value your life." + +Niels obeyed, and has never seen his brother since that day. He had +had much trouble, had been a soldier and lost his health in the war, +and finally, after great trials and sufferings, had managed to get +back to the land of his birth. This was the story as told me by the +miserable man, and I could not doubt its truth. + +It was now only too clear to me that my unfortunate brother in the +Lord had fallen a victim to the hatred of his fiendish enemy, to the +delusion of his judge and the witnesses, and to his own credulous +imagination. + +Oh, what is man that he shall dare to sit in judgment over his +fellows! God alone is the Judge. He who gives life may alone give +death! + +I did not feel it my duty to give official information against this +crushed and broken sinner, particularly as the district judge is still +alive, and it would have been cruelty to let him know of his terrible +error. + +Instead, I gave what comfort my office permitted to the poor man, and +recommended him not to reveal his name or tell his story to anyone in +the district. On these conditions I would give him a home until I +could arrange for a permanent refuge for him in my brother's house, a +good distance from these parts. + +The day following was a Sunday. When I returned from evening service +at my branch parish, the beggar had disappeared. But by the evening of +the next day the story was known throughout the neighborhood. + +Goaded by the pangs of conscience, Niels had gone to Rosmer and made +himself known to the judge as the true Niels Bruus. Upon the hearing +of the terrible truth, the judge was taken with a stroke and died +before the week was out. But on Tuesday morning they found Niels Bruus +dead on the grave of the late rector Sren Quist of Veilbye, by the +door of Aals church. + + + +_HUNGARIAN MYSTERY STORIES_ + + + +FERENCZ MOLNAR + + +_THE LIVING DEATH_ + + +There is a very serious reason, my dear sisters, why at last, after an +absence of twenty years in America, I am confiding to you this strange +secret in the life of our beloved and lamented father, and of the old +house where we were children together. The truth is, if I read rightly +the countenances of my physicians as they whisper to each other by the +window of the chamber in which I am lying, that only a few days of +this life remain to me. + +It is not right that this secret should die with me, my dear sisters. +Though it will seem terrible to you, as it has to me, it will enable +you to better understand our blessed father, help you to account for +what must have seemed to you to be strange inconsistencies in his +character. That this secret was revealed to me was due to my indolence +and childish curiosity. + +For the first, and the last, time in my life I listened at a keyhole. +With shame and a hotly chiding conscience I yielded to that insatiable +curiosity--and when you have read these lines you will understand why +I do not regret that inexcusable, furtive act. + +I was only a lad when we went to live in that odd little house. You +remember it stood in the outskirts of Rakos, near the new cemetery. It +stood on a deep lot, and was roughly boarded on the side which looked +on the highway. You remember that on the first floor, next the street, +were the room of our father, the dining room, and the children's room. +In the rear of the house was the sculpture studio. There we had the +large white hall with big windows, where white-clothed laborers +worked. They mixed the plaster, made forms, chiseled, scratched, and +sawed. Here in this large hall had our father worked for thirty years. + +When I arrived, in the holidays, I noted a change in our father's +countenance. His beard was white, even when he did not work with the +plaster. Through his strong spectacles his eyes glittered peculiarly. +He was less calm than formerly. And he did not speak much, but all the +more did he read. + +Why, we all knew that after the passing away of our mother he became a +bookworm, reading very often by candlelight until morning. + +Then did it happen, about the fourth day after my arrival. I spent my +leisure hours in the studio; I carved little figures, formed little +pillar heads from the white plaster. In the corner a big barrel stood +filled with water. It was noon; the laborers went to lunch. + +I sat down close to the barrel and carved a Corinthian pillar. Father +came into the studio and did not notice me. He carried in his hands +two plates of soup. When he came into the studio he closed the door +behind him and looked around in the shop, as though to make sure he +was not observed. As I have said, he did not notice me. I was +astonished. Holding my breath, I listened. Father went through the +large hall, and then opened a small door, of which I knew only so much +that it led into a chamber three steps lower than the studio. + +I was full of expectation. I listened. I did not hear a word of +conversation. Presently father came back with the empty plates in his +hand. Somebody bolted the chamber's door behind him. + +Father went out of the studio, and I, much embarrassed, crept from +behind the barrel. + +I knew that the chamber had a window, which looked back toward the +plowed fields. I ran out of the studio and around the house. Much to +my astonishment, the chamber's window was curtained inside. A large +yellow plaid curtain hid everything from view. But I had to go, +anyway, for I heard Irma's voice calling from the yard: + +"Antal, to lunch!" + +I sat down to the table with you, my sisters, and looked at father. He +was sitting at the head of the table, and ate without saying a word. + +Day after day I troubled my head about this mystery in the chamber, +but said not a word to anybody. I went into the studio, as usual, but +I did not notice anything peculiar. Not a sound came from the chamber, +and when our father worked in the shop with his ten laborers he passed +by the small door as if beyond it there was nothing out of the +ordinary. + +On Thursday I had to go back to Germany. On Tuesday night curiosity +seized me again. Suddenly I felt that perhaps never would I know what +was going on in my father's house. That night, when the working people +were gone, I went into the studio. For a long time I was lost in my +thoughts. All kinds of romantic ideas passed through my head, while my +gaze rested on that small mysterious chamber door. + +In the studio it was dark already, and from under the small door in a +thin border a yellow radiance poured out. Suddenly I regained my +courage. I went to the door and listened. Somebody was speaking. It +was a man's voice, but I did not understand what he was saying. I was +putting my ear close to the door, when I heard steps at the front of +the studio. Father came. + +I quickly withdrew myself behind the barrel. Father walked through the +hall and knocked on the door softly. The bolt clicked and the door +opened. Father went into the chamber and closed the door immediately +and locked it. + +Now all discretion and sense of honor in me came to an end. Curiosity +mastered me. I knew that last year one part of this small room had +been partitioned off and was used as a woodhouse. And I knew that +there was a possibility of going into the woodhouse through the yard. + +I went out, therefore, but found the woodhouse was closed. Driven by +trembling curiosity, I ran into the house, took the key of the +woodhouse from its nail, and in a minute, through the crevice between +two planks, I was looking into that mysterious little room. + +There was a table in the middle of the room, and beside the wall were +two straw mattresses. On the table a lighted candle stood. A bottle of +wine was beside it, and around the table were sitting father and two +strangers. Both the strangers were all in black. Something in their +appearance froze me with terror. + +I fled in a panic of unreasoning fear, but returned soon, devoured by +curiosity. + +You, my sister Irma, must remember how I found you there, gazing with +starting eyeballs on the same mysteriously terrifying scene--and how I +drew you away with a laugh and a trifling explanation, so that I might +return and resume my ghastly vigil alone. + +One of the strangers wore a frock coat and had a sunburned, brown +face. He was not old yet, not more than forty-five or forty-eight. He +seemed to be a tradesman in his Sunday clothes. That did not interest +me much. + +I looked at the other old man, and then a shiver of cold went through +me. He was a famous physician, a professor, Mr. H----. I desire to lay +stress upon it that he it was, for I had read two weeks before in the +papers that he had died and was buried! + +And now he was sitting, in evening dress, in the chamber of a poor +plaster sculptor, in the chamber of my father behind a bolted door! + +I was aware of the fact that the physician knew father. Why, you can +recall that when father had asthma he consulted Mr. H----. Moreover, +the professor visited us very frequently. The papers said he was dead, +yet here he was! + +With beating heart and in terror, I looked and listened. + +The professor put some shining little thing on the table. + +"Here is my diamond shirt stud," he said to my father, "It is yours." + +Father pushed the jewel aside, refusing the gift. + +"Why, you are spending money on me," said the professor. + +"It makes no difference," replied father; "I shan't take the diamond." + +Then they were silent for a long while. At length the professor smiled +and said: + +"The pair of cuff buttons which I had from Prince Eugene I presented +to the watchman in the cemetery. They are worth a thousand guldens." + +And he showed his cuffs, from which the buttons were missing. Then he +turned to the sunburned man: + +"What did you give him, General Gardener?" + +The tall, strong man unbuttoned his frock coat. + +"Everything I had--my gold chain, my scarf pin, and my ring." + +I did not understand all that. What was it? Where did they come from? +A horrible presentiment arose in me. They came from the cemetery! They +wore the very clothes in which they were buried! + +What had happened to them? Were they only apparently dead? Did they +awake? Did they rise from the dead? What are they seeking here? + +They had a very low-voiced conversation with father. I listened in +vain. Only later on, when they got warmed with their subject and spoke +more audibly, did I understand them. + +"There is no other way," said the professor. "Put it in your will that +the coroner shall pierce your heart through with a knife." + +Do you remember, my sisters, the last will of our father, which was +thus executed? + +Father did not say a word. Then the professor went on, saying: + +"That would be a splendid invention. Had I been living till now I +would have published a book about it. Nobody takes the Indian fakir +seriously here in Europe. But, despite this, the buried fakirs, who +are two months under ground and then come back into life, are very +serious men. Perhaps they are more serious than ourselves, with all +our scientific knowledge. There are strange, new, dreadful things for +which we are not yet matured enough. + +"I died upon their methods; I can state that now. The mental state +which they reach systematically I reached accidentally. The solitude, +the absorbedness, the lying in a bed month by month, the gazing upon a +fixed point hour by hour--these are all self-evident facts with me, a +deserted misanthrope. + +"I died as the Indian fakirs do, and were I not a descendant of an old +noble family, who have a tomb in this country, I would have died +really. + +"God knows how it happened. I don't think there is any use of worrying +ourselves about it. I have still four days. Then we go for good and +all. But not back, no, no, not back to life!" + +He pointed with his hand toward the city. His face was burning from +fever, and he knitted his brows. His countenance was horrible at this +moment. Then he looked at the man with the sunburned face. + +"The case of Mr. Gardener is quite different. This is an ordinary +physician's error. But he has less than four days. He will be gone +to-morrow or positively day after to-morrow." + +He grasped the pulse of the sunburned man. + +"At this minute his pulse beats a hundred and twelve. You have a day +left, Mr. Gardener. But not back. We don't go back. Never!" + +Father said nothing. He looked at the professor with seriousness, and +fondly. The professor drank a glass of wine, and then turned toward +father. + +"Go to bed. You have to get up early; you still live; you have +children. We shall sleep if we can do so. It is very likely that +General Gardener won't see another morning. You must not witness +that." + +Now father began to speak, slowly, reverently. + +"If you, professor, have to send word--or perhaps Mr. +Gardener--somebody we must take care of--a command, if you have--" + +The professor looked at him sternly, saying but one word: + +"Nothing." + +Father was still waiting. + +"Absolutely nothing," repeated the professor. "I have died, but I have +four days yet. I live those here, my dear old friend, with you. But I +don't go back any more. I don't even turn my face backward. I don't +want to know where the others live. I don't want life, old man. It is +not honorable to go back. Go, my friend--go to bed." + +Father shook hands with them and disappeared. General Gardener sat +stiffly on his chair. The professor gazed into the air. + +I began to be aware of all that had happened here. These two +apparently dead men had come back from the cemetery, but how, in what +manner, by what means? I don't understand it perfectly even now. +There, in the small room, near to the cemetery, they were living their +few remaining days. They did not want to go back again into life. + +I shuddered. During these few minutes I seemed to have learned the +meaning of life and of death. Now I myself felt that the life of the +city was at a vast distance. I had a feeling that the professor was +right. It was not worth while. I, too, felt tired, tired of life, like +the professor, the feverish, clever, serious old man who came from the +coffin and was sitting there in his grave clothes waiting for the +final death. + +They did not speak a word to each other. They were simply waiting. I +did not have power to move away from the crack in the wall through +which I saw them. + +And now there happened the awful thing that drove me away from our +home, never to return. + +It was about half-past one when someone tapped on the window. The +professor took alarm and looked at Mr. Gardener a warning to take no +notice. But the tapping grew louder. The professor got up and went to +the window. + +He lifted the yellow curtain and looked out into the night. Quickly he +returned and spoke to General Gardener, and then both went to the +window and spoke with the person who had knocked. After a long +conversation they lifted the man through the window. + +On this terrible day nothing could happen that would surprise me. I +was benumbed. The man who was lifted through the window was clad in +white linen to his feet. He was a Hebrew, a poor, thin, weak, pale +Hebrew. He wore his white funeral dress. He shivered from cold, +trembled, seemed almost unconscious. The professor gave him some wine. +The Hebrew stammered: + +"Terrible! Oh, horrible!" + +I learned from his broken language that he had not been buried yet, +like the professor. He had not yet known the smell of the earth. He +had come from his bier. + +"I was laid out a corpse," he whimpered. "My God, they would have +buried me by to-morrow!" + +The professor gave him wine again. + +"I saw a light here," he went on. "I beg you will give me some +clothes--some soup, if you please--and I am going back again." Then he +said in German: + +"Meine gute, theure Frau! Meine Kinder!" (My good wife, my children.) + +He began to weep. The professor's countenance changed to a devilish +expression when he heard this lament. He despised the lamenting +Hebrew. + +"You are going back?" he thundered. "But you won't go back! Don't +shame yourself!" + +The Hebrew gazed at him stupidly. + +"I live in Rottenbiller Street," he stammered. "My name is Joseph +Braun." + +He bit his nails in his nervous agitation. Tears filled his eyes. "Ich +muss zu meine Kinder," he said in German again. (I must go to my +children.) + +"No!" exclaimed the professor. "You'll never go back!" + +"But why?" + +"I will not permit it!" + +The Hebrew looked around. He felt that something was wrong here. His +startled manner seemed to ask: "Am I in a lunatic asylum?" He dropped +his head and said to the professor simply: + +"I am tired." + +The professor pointed to the straw mattress. + +"Go to sleep. We will speak further in the morning." + +Fever blazed in the professor's face. On the other straw mattress +General Gardener now slept with his face to the wall. + +The Hebrew staggered to the straw mattress, threw himself down, and +wept. The weeping shook him terribly. The professor sat at the table +and smiled. + +Finally the Hebrew fell asleep. Hours passed in silence. I stood +motionless looking at the professor, who gazed into the candlelight. +There was not much left of it. Presently he sighed and blew it out. +For a little while there was dark, and then I saw the dawn penetrating +the yellow curtain at the window. The professor leaned back in his +chair, stretched out his feet, and closed his eyes. + +All at once the Hebrew got up silently and went to the window. He +believed the professor was asleep. He opened the window carefully and +started to creep out. The professor leaped from his chair, shouting: + +"No!" + +He caught the Hebrew by his shroud and held him back. There was a long +knife in his hand. Without another word, the professor pierced the +Hebrew through the heart. + +He put the limp body on the straw mattress, then went out of the +chamber toward the studio. In a few minutes he came back with father. +Father was pale and did not speak. They covered the dead Hebrew with a +rug, and then, one after the other, crept out through the window, +lifted the corpse out, and carried it away. In a quarter of an hour +they came back. They exchanged a few words, from which I learned that +they had succeeded in putting the dead Hebrew back on his bier without +having been observed. + +They shut the window. The professor drank a glass of wine and again +stretched out his legs on the chair. + +"It is impossible to go back," he said. "It is not allowed." + +Father went away. I did not see him any more. I staggered up to my +room, went to bed, and slept immediately. The next day I got up at ten +o'clock. I left the city at noon. + +Since that time, my dear sisters, you have not seen me. I don't know +anything more. At this minute I say to myself that what I know, what I +have set down here, is not true. Maybe it never happened, maybe I have +dreamed it all. I am not clear in my mind. I have a fever. + +But I am not afraid of death. Here, on my hospital bed, I see the +professor's feverish but calm and wise face. When he grasped the +Hebrew by the throat he looked like a lover of Death, like one who has +a secret relation with the passing of life, who advocates the claims +of Death, and who punishes him who would cheat Death. + +Now Death urges his claim upon me. I have no desire to cheat him--I am +so tired, so very tired. + +God be with you, my dear sisters. + + + +MAURUS JOKAI + + +_THIRTEEN AT TABLE_ + + +We are far amidst the snow-clad mountains of Transylvania. + +The scenery is magnificent. In clear weather, the plains of Hungary as +far as the Rez promontory may be seen from the summit of the +mountains. Groups of hills rise one above the other, covered with +thick forest, which, at the period when our tale commences, had just +begun to assume the first light green of spring. + +Toward sunset, a slight purple mist overspread the farther pinnacles, +leaving their ridges still tinged with gold. On the side of one of +these hills the white turrets of an ancient family mansion gleamed +from amid the trees. + +Its situation was peculiarly romantic. A steep rock descended on one +side, on whose pinnacle rose a simple cross. In the depth of the +valley beneath lay a scattered village, whose evening bells +melodiously broke the stillness of nature. + +Farther off, some broken roofs arose among the trees, from whence the +sound of the mill, and the yellow-tinted stream, betrayed the miners' +dwellings. + +Through the meadows in the valley beneath a serpentine rivulet wound +its silvery way, interrupted by numerous falls and huge blocks of +stone, which had been carried down in bygone ages from the mountains +during the melting of the snows. + +A little path, cut in the side of the rock, ascended to the castle; +while higher up, a broad road, somewhat broken by the mountain +streams, conducted across the hills to more distant regions. + +The castle itself was an old family mansion, which had received many +additions at different periods, as the wealth or necessities of the +family suggested. + +It was surrounded by groups of ancient chestnut trees, and the terrace +before the court was laid out in gardens, which were now filled with +anemones, hyacinths, and other early flowers. Now and then the head of +a joyous child appeared at the windows, which were opened to admit the +evening breeze; while various members of the household retinue were +seen hastening through the corridors, or standing at the doors in +their embroidered liveries. + +The castle was completely surrounded by a strong railwork of iron, the +stone pillars were overgrown by the evergreen leaves of the gobea and +epomoea. + +It was the early spring of 1848. + +A party, consisting of thirteen persons, had assembled in the +dining-room. They were all members of one family, and all bore the +name of Bardy. + +At the head of the board sat the grandmother, an old lady of eighty +years of age, whose snow-white hair was dressed according to the +fashion of her times beneath her high white cap. Her face was pale and +much wrinkled, and the eyes turned constantly upwards, as is the case +with persons who have lost their sight. Her hand and voice trembled +with age, and there was something peculiarly striking in the thick +snow-white eyebrows. + +On her right hand sat her eldest son, Thomas Bardy, a man of between +fifty and sixty. With a haughty and commanding countenance, +penetrating glance, lofty figure, and noble mien, he was a true type +of that ancient aristocracy which is now beginning to die out. + +Opposite to him, at the old lady's left hand, sat the darling of the +family--a lovely girl of about fifteen. Her golden hair fell in +luxuriant tresses round a countenance of singular beauty and +sweetness. The large and lustrous deep-blue eyes were shaded by long +dark lashes, and her complexion was pale as the lily, excepting when +she smiled or spoke, and a slight flush like the dawn of morning +overspread her cheeks. + +Jolanka was the orphan child of a distant relative, whom the Bardys +had adopted. They could not allow one who bore their name to suffer +want; and it seemed as if each member of the family had united to heap +affection and endearment on the orphan girl, and thus prevented her +from feeling herself a stranger among them. + +There were still two other female members of the family: Katalin, the +old lady's daughter, who had been for many years a widow; and the wife +of one of her sons, a pretty young woman, who was trying to teach a +little prattler at her side to use the golden spoon which she had +placed in his small, fat hand, while he laughed and crowed, and the +family did their best to guess what he said, or what he most +preferred. + +Opposite to them there sat two gentlemen. One of them was the husband +of the young mother, Jozsef Bardy--a handsome man of about +thirty-five, with regular features, and black hair and beard; a +constant smile beamed on his gay countenance, while he playfully +addressed his little son and gentle wife across the table. The other +was his brother, Barnabas--a man of herculean form and strength. His +face was marked by smallpox; he wore neither beard or mustache, and +his hair was combed smoothly back, like a peasant's. His disposition +was melancholy and taciturn; but he seemed constantly striving to +atone, by the amiability of his manners, for an unprepossessing +exterior. + +Next to him sat a little cripple, whose pale countenance bore that +expression of suffering sweetness so peculiar to the deformed, while +his lank hair, bony hands, and misshapen shoulders awakened the +beholder's pity. He, too, was an orphan--a grandchild of the old +lady's; his parents had died some years before. + +Two little boys of about five years old sat opposite to him. They were +dressed alike, and the resemblance between them was so striking that +they were constantly mistaken. They were twin-children of the young +couple. + +At the lower end of the table sat Imre Bardy, a young man of twenty, +whose handsome countenance was full of life and intelligence, his +figure manly and graceful, and his manner courteous and agreeable. A +slight moustache was beginning to shade his upper lip, and his dark +hair fell in natural ringlets around his head. He was the only son of +the _majoresco_, Tamas Bardy, and resembled him much in form and +feature. + +Beside him sat an old gentleman, with white hair and ruddy complexion. +This was Simon Bardy, an ancient relative, who had grown old with the +grandmother of the family. + +The same peculiarity characterized every countenance in the Bardy +family--namely the lofty forehead and marked brows, and the large +deep-blue eyes, shaded by their heavy dark lashes.[1] + +"How singular!" exclaimed one of the party; "we are thirteen at table +to-day." + +"One of us will surely die," said the old lady; and there was a +mournful conviction in the faint, trembling tones. + +"Oh, no, grandmother, we are only twelve and a half!" exclaimed the +young mother, taking the little one on her knee. + +"This little fellow only counts half on the railroad." + +All the party laughed at this remark, even the little cripple's +countenance relaxed into a sickly smile. + +"Ay, ay," continued the old lady, "the trees are now putting forth +their verdure, but at the fall of the leaf who knows if all of us, or +any of us, may still be sitting here?" + + * * * * * + +Several months had passed since this slight incident. + +In one of the apartments of the castle, the eldest Bardy and his son +were engaged in earnest conversation. + +The father paced hastily up and down the apartment, now and then +stopping short to address his son, who stood in the embrasure of one +of the windows. The latter wore the dress of the Matyas Hussars[2]--a +gray dolmany, with crimson cord; he held a crimson csako, with a +tricolored cockade, in his hand. + +"Go," said the father, speaking in broken accents; "the sooner the +better; let me not see you! Do not think I speak in anger, but I +cannot bear to look at you, and think where you are going. You are my +only son, and you know how I have loved you--how all my hopes have +been concentrated in you. But do not think that these tears, which you +see me shed for the first time, are on your account; for if I knew I +should lose you,--if your blood were to flow at the next battle,--I +should only bow my head in dust and say, 'The Lord gave, and the Lord +takes away, blessed be His holy name!' Yes, if I heard that you and +your infatuated companions were cut to pieces, I could stifle the +burning tears; but to know that your blood, when it flows, will be a +curse upon the earth, and your death will be the death of two +kingdoms--" + +"They may die now; but they will regenerate----" + +"This is not true; you only deceive yourselves with the idea that you +can build up a new edifice when you have overthrown the old one. Great +God, what sacrilege! Who had intrusted you with the fate of our +country, to tempt the Almighty? Who authorized you to lose all there +is for the hope of what may be? For centuries past have so many +honorable men fought in vain to uphold the old tottering constitution, +as you call it? Or were they not true patriots and heroes? Your +companions have hissed their persecuted countrymen in the Diet; but do +they love their country better than we do, who have shed our blood and +sacrificed our interests for her from generation to generation, and +even suffered disgrace, if necessary, to keep her in life?--for though +that life has been gradually weakened, still it is life. You promise +her glory; but the name of glory is death!" + +"It may be so, father; we may lose our country as regards ourselves, +but we give one instead of ten millions, who were hitherto our own +people, and yet strangers in their native land." + +"Chimera! The people will not understand you. They never even dreamt +of what you wish to give them. The true way to seek the people's +welfare is to give them what they need. + +"Ask my dependents! Is there one among them whom I have allowed to +suffer want or ruin, whom I have not assisted in times of need?--or +have I ever treated them unjustly? You will not hear a murmur. Tell +them that I am unjust notwithstanding, because I do not call the +peasant from his plow to give his opinions on forming the laws, and +constitution,--and what will be the consequence? They will stare at +you in astonishment; and yet, in their mistaken wrath, they will come +down some night and burn this house over my head." + +"That is the unnatural state of the times. It is all the fault of the +past bad management, if the people have no better idea. But let the +peasant once be free, let him be a man, and he will understand all +that is now strange to him." + +"But that freedom will cost the lives of thousands!" + +"I do not deny it. Indeed, I believe that neither I nor any of the +present generation will reap the fruits of this movement. I think it +probable that in a few years not one of those whose names we now hear +spoken of may still be living; and what is more, disgrace and curses +may be heaped upon their dust. But a time will come when the great +institutions of which they have laid the foundation will arise and +render justice to the memory of those who sacrificed themselves for +the happiness of future generations. To die for our country is a +glorious death, but to carry with us the curses of thousands, to die +despised and hated for the salvation of future millions, oh! that is +sublime--it is Messiah-like!" + +"My son--my only son!" cried his father, throwing himself passionately +on the young man's neck and sobbing bitterly. "Do you see these +tears?" + +"For the first time in my life I see them, father--I see you weep; my +heart can scarcely bear the weight of these tears--and yet I go! You +have reason to weep, for I bring neither joy nor glory on your +head--and yet I go! A feeling stronger than the desire of glory, +stronger than the love of my country, inspires my soul; and it is a +proof of the strength of my faith that I see your tears, my +father--and yet I go!" + +"Go!" murmured his father, in a voice of despair. "You may never +return again, or, when you do, you may find neither your father's +house nor the grave in which he is laid! But know, even then, in the +hour of your death, or in the hour of mine, I do not curse you--and +now, leave me." With these words he turned away and motioned to his +son to depart. + +Imre silently left the apartment, and as soon as he had closed the +door the tears streamed from his eyes; but before his sword had struck +the last step his countenance had regained its former determination, +and the fire of enthusiasm had kindled in his eye. + +He then went to take leave of his Uncle Jozsef, whom he found +surrounded by his family. The twins were sitting at his feet, while +his wife was playing bo-peep with the little one, who laughed and +shouted, while his mother hid herself behind his father's armchair. + +Imre's entrance interrupted the general mirth. The little boy ran over +to examine the sword and golden tassels, while the little one began to +cry in alarm at the sight of the strange dress. + +"Csitt, baba!" said his mother, taking him from his father's arms; +"your cousin is going to wars, and will bring you a golden horse." + +Jozsef wrung his nephew's hand. "God be with you!" he exclaimed, and +added in a lower voice, "You are the noblest of us all--you have done +well!" + +They then all embraced him in turns, and Imre left them, amidst +clamors of the little ones, and proceeded to his grandmother's +apartments. + +On the way, he met his Uncle Barnabas, who embraced him again and +again in silence, and then tore himself away without saying a word. + +The old lady sat in her great armchair, which she seldom quitted, and +as she heard the clash of Imre's sword, she looked up and asked who +was coming. + +"It is Imre!" said the fair-haired maiden, blushing, and her heart +beat quickly as she pronounced his name. + +Jolanka felt that Imre was more than a brother to her, and the feeling +with which she had learnt to return his affection was warmer than even +a sister's love. + +The widow lady and the cripple were also in the grandmother's +apartment; the child sat on a stool at the old lady's feet, and smiled +sadly as the young man entered. + +"Why that sword at your side, Imre?" asked the old lady in a feeble +voice. "Ah, this is no good world--no good world! But if God is +against us, who can resist His hand? I have spoken with the dead again +in dreams. I thought they all came around me and beckoned me to follow +them; but I am ready to go, and place my life with gratitude and +confidence in the hands of the Lord. Last night I saw the year 1848 +written in the skies in letters of fire. Who knows what may come over +us yet? This is no good world--no good world!" + +Imre bent silently over the old lady's hand and kissed it. + +"And so you are going? Well, God bless and speed you, if you go +beneath the cross, and never forget in life or in death to raise your +heart to the Lord;" and the old lady placed her withered hand upon her +grandson's head, and murmured, "God Almighty bless you!" + +"My husband was just such a handsome youth when I lost him," sighed +the widow lady as she embraced her nephew. "God bless you!" + +The little cripple threw his arms around his cousin's knees and, +sobbing, entreated him not to stay long away. + +The last who bade farewell was Jolanka. She approached with downcast +eyes, holding in her small white hands an embroidered cockade, which +she placed on his breast. It was composed of five colors--blue and +gold, red, white, and green.[3] + +"I understand," said the young man, in a tone of joyful surprise, as +he pressed the sweet girl to his heart, "Erdely[4] and Hungary united! +I shall win glory for your colors!" + +The maiden yielded to his warm embrace, murmuring, as he released her, +"Remember me!" + +"When I cease to remember you, I shall be no more," replied the youth +fervently. + +And then he kissed the young girl's brow, and once more bidding +farewell, he hurried from the apartment. + +Old Simon Bardy lived on the first floor: Imre did not forget him. + +"Well, nephew," said the old man cheerfully, "God speed you, and give +you strength to cut down many Turks!" + +"It is not with the Turks that we shall have to do," replied the young +man, smiling. + +"Well, with the French," said the old soldier of the past century, +correcting himself. + +A page waited at the gate with two horses saddled and bridled. + +"I shall not require you--you may remain at home," said Imre, as, +taking the bridle of one of the horses, vaulting lightly into the +saddle, he pressed his csako over his brow and galloped from the +castle. + +As he rode under the cross, he checked his horse and looked back. Was +it of his grandmother's words, or of the golden-haired Jolanka that he +thought? + +A white handkerchief waved from the window. + +"Farewell, light of my soul!" murmured the youth; and kissing his +hand, he once more dashed his spurs into his horse's flank, and turned +down the steep hill. + +Those were strange times. All at once the villages began to be +depopulated; the inhabitants disappeared, none knew whither. The doors +of the houses were closed. + +The bells were no longer heard in the evening, nor the maiden's song +as she returned from her work. The barking of dogs which had lost +their masters alone interrupted the silence of the streets, where the +grass began to grow. + +Imre Bardy rode through the streets of the village without meeting a +soul; few of the chimneys had smoke, and no fires gleamed through the +kitchen windows. + +Evening was drawing on, and a slight transparent mist had overspread +the valley. Imre was desirous of reaching Kolozsvar[5] early on the +next morning, and continued his route all night. + +About midnight the moon rose behind the trees, shedding her silvery +light over the forest. All was still, excepting the echo of the +miner's hammer, and the monotonous sound of his horse's step along the +rocky path. He rode on, lost in thought; when suddenly the horse +stopped short, and pricked his ears. + +"Come, come," said Imre, stroking his neck, "you have not heard the +cannon yet." + +The animal at last proceeded, turning his head impatiently from side +to side, and snorting and neighing with fear. + +The road now led through a narrow pass between two rocks, whose +summits almost met, and a slight bridge, formed of one or two rotten +planks, was thrown across the dry channel of a mountain stream which +cut up the path. + +As Imre reached the bridge, the horse backed, and no spurring could +induce him to cross. Imre at last pressed his knee angrily against the +trembling animal, striking him at the same time across the neck with +the bridle, on which the horse suddenly cleared the chasm at one bound +and then again turned and began to back. + +At that instant a fearful cry arose from beneath, which was echoed +from the rocks around, and ten or fifteen savage-looking beings +climbed from under the bridge, with lances formed of upright scythes. + +Even then there would have been time for the horseman to turn back, +and dash through a handful of men behind him, but either he was +ashamed of turning from the first conflict, or he was desirous, at any +risk, to reach Kolozsvar at the appointed time, and instead of +retreating by the bridge, he galloped towards the other end of the +pass, where the enemy rushed upon him from every side, yelling +hideously. + +"Back, Wallachian dogs!" cried Imre, cutting two of them down, while +several others sprang forward with the scythes. + +Two shots whistled by, and Imre, letting go the bridle, cut right and +left, his sword gleaming rapidly among the awkward weapons; and taking +advantage of a moment in which the enemy's charge began to slacken, he +suddenly dashed through the crowd towards the outlet of the rock, +without perceiving that another party awaited him above the rocks with +great stones, with which they prepared to crush him as he passed. + +He was only a few paces from the spot, when a gigantic figure, armed +with a short broad-axe, and with a Roman helmet on his head, descended +from the rock in front of him, and seizing the reins of the horse +forced him to halt. The young man aimed a blow at his enemy's head, +and the helmet fell back, cut through the middle, but the force of the +blow had broken his sword in two; and the horse lifted by his giant +foe, reared, so that the rider, losing his balance, was thrown against +the side of the rock, and fell senseless to the ground. + +At the same instant a shot was fired toward them from the top of the +rock. + +"Who fired there?" cried the giant, in a voice of thunder. The +bloodthirsty Wallachians would have rushed madly on their defenseless +prey, had not the giant stood between him and them. + +"Who fired on me?" he sternly exclaimed. The Wallachians stood back in +terror. + +"It was not on you, Decurio, that I fired, but on the hussar," +stammered out one of the men, on whom the giant had fixed his eye. + +"You lie, traitor! Your ball struck my armor, and had I not worn a +shirt of mail, it would have pierced my heart." + +The man turned deadly pale, trembling from head to foot. + +"My enemies have paid you to murder me?" The savage tried to speak, +but words died upon his lips. + +"Hang him instantly--he is a traitor!" + +The rest of the gang immediately seized the culprit and carried him to +the nearest tree, from whence his shrieks soon testified that his +sentence was being put in execution. + +The Decurio remained alone with the young man; and hastily lifting +him, still senseless, from the ground, he mounted his horse, and +placing him before him ere the savage horde had returned, he had +galloped some distance along the road from whence the youth had come, +covering him with his mantle as he passed the bridge, to conceal him +from several of the gang who stood there, and exclaiming, "Follow me +to the Topanfalvo." + +As soon as they were out of sight, he suddenly turned to the left, +down a steep, hilly path, and struck into the depth of the forest. + +The morning sun had just shot its first beams across the hills, +tinting with golden hue the reddening autumn leaves, when the young +hussar began to move in his fevered dreams, and murmured the name +"Jolanka." + +In a few moments he opened his eyes. He was lying in a small chamber, +through the only window of which the sunbeams shone upon his face. + +The bed on which he lay was made of lime-boughs, simply woven +together, and covered with wolves' skins. A gigantic form was leaning +against the foot of the bed with his arms folded, and as the young man +awoke, he turned round. It was the Decurio. + +"Where am I?" asked the young man, vaguely endeavoring to recall the +events of the past night. + +"In my house," replied Decurio. + +"And who are you?" + +"I am Numa, Decurio of the Roumin[6] Legion, your foe in battle, but +now your host and protector." + +"And why did you save me from your men?" asked the young man, after a +short silence. + +"Because the strife was unequal--a hundred against one." + +"But had it not been for you, I could have freed myself from them." + +"Without me you had been lost. Ten paces from where I stopped your +horse, you would inevitably have been dashed to pieces by huge stones +which they were preparing to throw down upon you from the rock." + +"And you did not desire my death?" + +"No, because it would have reflected dishonor on the Roumin name." + +"You are a chivalrous man, Decurio!" + +"I am what you are; I know your character, and the same feeling +inspires us both. You love your nation, as I do mine. Your nation is +great and cultivated; mine is despised and neglected, and my love is +more bitterly devoted. Your love for your country makes you happy; +mine deprives me of peace. You have taken up arms to defend your +country without knowing your own strength, or the number of the foe; I +have done the same. Either of us may lose, or we may both be blotted +out; but though the arms may be buried in the earth, rust will not eat +them." + +"I do not understand your grievances." + +"You do not understand? Know, then, that although fourteen centuries +have passed since the Roman eagle overthrew Diurbanus, there are still +those among us--the now barbarous people--who can trace their descent +from generation to generation, up to the times of its past glory. We +have still our traditions, if we have nothing more; and can point out +what forest stands in the place of the ancient Sarmisaegethusa, and +what town is built where one Decebalus overthrew the far-famed troops +of the Consulate. And alas for that town! if the graves over which its +houses are built should once more open, and turn the populous streets +into a field of battle! What is become of the nation, the heir of so +much glory?--the proud Dacians, the descendants of the far-famed +legions? I do not reproach any nation for having brought us to what we +now are; but let none reproach me if I desire to restore my people to +what they once were." + +"And do you believe that this is the time?" + +"We have no prophets to point out the hour, but it seems yours do not +see more clearly. We shall attempt it now, and if we fail our +grandchildren will attempt it again. We have nothing to lose but a few +lives; you risk much that is worth losing, and yet you assemble +beneath the banner of war. Then war. Then what would you do if you +were like us?--a people who possess nothing in this world among whom +there is not one able or one instructed head; for although every third +man bears the name of Papa, it is not every hundredth who can read! A +people excluded from every employment; who live a miserable life in +the severest manual labor; who have not one noble city in their +country, the home of three-fourths of their people. Why should we seek +to know the signs of the times in which we are to die, or be +regenerated! We have nothing but our wretchedness, and if we are +conquered we lose nothing. Oh! you did wrong for your own peace to +leave a nation to such utter neglect!" + +"We do not take up arms for our nation alone, but for freedom in +general." + +"You do wrong. It is all the same to us who our sovereign may be; only +let him be just towards us, and raise up our fallen people; but you +will destroy your nation--its power, its influence, and +privileges--merely that you may live in a country without a head." + +A loud uproar interrupted the conversation. A disorderly troop of +Wallachians approached the Decurio's house, triumphantly bearing the +hussar's csako on a pole before them. + +"Had I left you there last night, they would now have exhibited your +head instead of your csako." + +The crowd halted before the Decurio's window, greeting him with loud +vociferations. + +The Decurio spoke a few words in the Wallachian language, on which +they replied more vehemently than before, at the same time thrusting +forward the kalpag on the pole. + +The Decurio turned hastily round. "Was your name written on your +kalpag?" he asked the young man, in evident embarrassment. + +"It was." + +"Unhappy youth! The people, furious at not having found you, are +determined to attack your father's house." + +"And you will permit them?" asked the youth, starting from bed. + +"I dare not contradict them, unless I would lose their confidence. I +can prevent nothing." + +"Give me up--let them wreak their bloody vengeance on my head!" + +"I should only betray myself for having concealed you; and it would +not save your father's house." + +"And if they murder the innocent and unprotected, on whom will the +ignominy of their blood fall?" + +"On me; but I will give you the means of preventing this disgrace. Do +you accept it?" + +"Speak!" + +"I will give you a disguise; hasten to Kolozsvar and assemble your +comrades,--then return and protect your house. I will wait you there, +and man to man, in open honorable combat, the strife will no longer be +ignominious." + +"Thanks, thanks!" murmured the youth, pressing the Decurio's hand. + +"There is not a moment to lose; here is a peasant's mantle--if you +should be interrogated, you have only to show this paszura,[7] and +mention my name. Your not knowing the language is of no consequence; +my men are accustomed to, see Hungarian gentlemen visit me in +disguise, and having only seen you by night, they will not recognize +you." + +Imre hastily took the dress, while Decurio spoke to the people, made +arrangements for the execution of their plans, and pointed out the way +to the castle, promising to follow them immediately. + +"Accept my horse as a remembrance," said the young man, turning to the +Decurio. + +"I accept it, as it would only raise suspicion were you to mount it; +but you may recover it again in the field. Haste, and lose no time! If +you delay you will bring mourning on your own head and disgrace on +mine!" + +In a few minutes the young man, disguised as a Wallachian peasant, was +hastening on foot across the hills of Kolozsvar. + +It was past midnight. + +The inhabitants of the Bardy castle had all retired to rest. + +The iron gate was locked and the windows barred, when suddenly the +sound of demoniac cries roused the slumberers from their dreams. + +"What is that noise?" cried Jozsef Bardy, springing from his bed, and +rushing to the window. + +"The Olahok!"[8] cried a hussar, who had rushed to his master's +apartments on hearing the sounds. + +"The Olah! the Olah!" was echoed through the corridors by the +terrified servants. + +By the light of a few torches, a hideous crowd was seen before the +windows, armed with scythes and axes, which they were brandishing with +fearful menaces. + +"Lock all the doors!" cried Jozsef Bardy, with calm presence of mind. +"Barricade the great entrance, and take the ladies and children to the +back rooms. You must not lose your heads, but all assemble together in +the turret-chamber, from whence the whole building may be protected. +And taking down two good rifles from over his bed, he hastened to his +elder brother Tamas's apartments, and overlooked the court. + +"Have you heard the noise?" asked his brother as he entered. + +"I knew it would come," he replied, and coolly continued to pace the +room. + +"And are you not preparing for defense?" + +"To what purpose?--they will kill us all. I am quite prepared for what +must inevitably happen." + +"But it will not happen if we defend ourselves courageously. We are +eight men--the walls of the castle are strong--the besiegers have no +guns, and no place to protect them; we may hold out for days until +assistance comes from Kolozsvar." + +"We shall lose," replied Tamas coldly, and without the slightest +change of countenance. + +"Then I shall defend the castle myself. I have a wife and children, +our old grandmother and our sisters are here, and I shall protect +them, if I remain alone." + +At that instant Barnabas and old Simon entered with the widowed +sister. + +Barnabas had a huge twenty-pound iron club in his hand; grinding his +teeth, and with eyes darting fire, he seemed capable of meeting +single-handed the whole troop. + +He was followed by the widow, with two loaded pistols in her hand, and +old Simon, who entreated them not to use violence or exasperate the +enemy. + +"Conduct yourselves bravely!" replied the widow dryly; "let us not die +in vain." + +"Come with me--we shall send them all to hell!" cried Barnabas, +swinging his club in his herculean arm as if it had been a reed. + +"Let us not be too hasty," interrupted Jozsef; we will stand here in +the tower, from whence we can shoot every one that approaches, and if +they break in, we can meet them on the stairs." + +"For Heaven's sake!" cried Simon, "what are you going to do? If you +kill one of them they will massacre us all. Speak to them +peaceably--promise them wine--take them to the cellar--give them +money--try to pacify them! Nephew Tamas, you will speak to them?" +continued the old man, turning to Tamas, who still paced up and down, +without the slightest visible emotion. + +"Pacification and resistance are equally vain," he replied coldly; "we +are inevitably lost!" + +"We have no time for delay," said Jozsef impatiently; "take the arms +from the wall, Barnabas, give one to each servant--let them stand at +the back windows of the house, we two are enough here. Sister, stand +between the windows, that the stones may not hit you; and when you +load, do not strike the balls too far in, that our aim may be the more +secure!" + +"No! no!--I cannot let you fire," exclaimed the old man, endeavoring +to drag Jozsef from the window. "You must not fire yet--only remain +quiet." + +"Go to the hurricane, old man! would you have us use holy water +against a shower of stones?" + +At that instant several large stones were dashed through the windows, +breaking the furniture against which they fell. + +"Only wait," said Simon, "until I speak with them. I am sure I shall +pacify them. I can speak their language and I know them all--just let +me go to them." + +"A vain idea! If you sue for mercy they will certainly kill you, but +if you show courage, you may bring them to their senses. You had +better stay and take a gun." + +But the old man was already out of hearing, and hurrying downstairs, +he went out of a back door into the court, which the Wallachians had +not yet taken possession of. + +They were endeavoring to break down one of the stone pillars of the +iron gate with their axes and hammers, and had already succeeded in +making an aperture, through which one of the gang now climbed. + +Old Simon recognized him. "Lupey, my son, what do you want here?" said +the old man. "Have we ever offended you? Do you forget all that I have +done for you?--how I cured your wife when she was so ill, and got you +off from the military; and how, when your ox died, I gave you two fine +bullocks to replace it? Do you not know me, my son Lupey?" + +"I am not your son Lupey now; I am a 'malcontent!'" cried the +Wallachian, aiming a blow with a heavy hammer at the old man's head. + +Uttering a deep groan, Simon fell lifeless to the ground. + +The rest of the party saw the scene from the tower. + +Barnabas rushed from the room like a maddened tiger, while Jozsef, +retiring cautiously behind the embrasure of the window, aimed his gun +as they were placing his uncle's head upon a spike, and shot the first +who raised it. Another seized it, and the next instant he, too, fell +to the earth; another and another, as many as attempted to raise the +head, till, finally, none dared approach. + +The widow loaded the guns while Tamas sat quietly in an armchair. + +Meanwhile Barnabas had hurried to the attic, where several large +fragments of iron had been stowed away, and dragging them to a window +which overlooked the entrance, he waited until the gang had assembled +round the door, and were trying to break in; when lifting an enormous +piece with gigantic strength, he dropped it on the heads of the +besiegers. + +Fearful cries arose and the gang, who were at the door, fled right and +left, leaving four or five of their number crushed beneath the +ponderous mass. + +The next moment they returned with redoubled fury, dashing stones +against the windows and the roof, while the door resounded with the +blows of their clubs. + +Notwithstanding the stones which were flying round him, Barnabas stood +at the window dashing heavy iron masses, and killing two or three men +every time. + +His brother meanwhile continued firing from the tower, and not a ball +was aimed in vain. The besiegers had lost a great number, and began to +fall back, after fruitless efforts to break in the door, when a +footman entered breathless to inform Barnabas that the Wallachians +were beginning to scale the opposite side of the castle with ladders, +and that the servants were unable to resist them. + +Barnabas rushed to the spot. + +Two servants lay mortally wounded in one of the back rooms, through +the windows of which the Wallachians were already beginning to enter, +while another ladder had been placed against the opposite window, +which they were beginning to scale as Barnabas entered. + +"Here, wretches!" he roared furiously, and, seizing the ladder with +both hands, shook it so violently that the men were precipitated from +it, and then lifting it with supernatural strength, he dashed it +against the opposite one, which broke with the force of the weight +thrown against it, the upper part falling backwards with the men upon +it, while one of the party remained hanging from the window-sill, and, +after immense exertions to gain a footing, he too fell to the earth. + +Barnabas rushed into the next room grinding his teeth, his lips +foaming, and his face of a livid hue; so appalling was his appearance; +that one of the gang, who had been the first to enter by the window, +turned pale with terror, and dropped his axe. + +Taking advantage of this, Barnabas darted on his enemy, and dragging +him with irresistible force to the window, he dashed him from it. + +"On here! as many as you are!" he shouted furiously, the blood gushing +from his mouth from the blow of a stone. "On! all who wish a fearful +death!" + +At that instant, a shriek of terror rose within the house. + +The Wallachians had discovered the little back door which Simon had +left open, and, stealing through it, were already inside the house, +when the shrieks of a servant girl gave the besieged notice of their +danger. + +Barnabas, seizing his club, hurried in the direction of the sounds; he +met his brother on the stairs, who had likewise heard the cry, and +hastened thither with his gun in his hand, accompanied by the widow. + +"Go, sister!" said Jozsef, "take my wife and children to the attics; +we will try to guard the staircase step by step. Kiss them all for me. +If we die, the villains will put us all in one grave--we shall meet +again!" + +The widow retired. + +The two brothers silently pressed hands, and then, standing on the +steps, awaited their enemies. They did not wait long. + +The bloodhounds with shouts of vengeance rushed on the narrow stone +stairs. + +"Hah! thus near I love to have you, dogs of hell!" cried Barnabas, +raising his iron club with both hands, and dealing such blows right +and left, that none whom it reached rose again. The stairs were +covered with the dead and wounded, while their death cries, and the +sound of the heavy club, echoed fearfully through the vaulted +building. + +The foremost of the gang retreated as precipitately as they had +advanced, but were continually pressed forward again by the members +from behind, while Barnabas drove them back unweariedly, cutting an +opening through them with the blows of his club. + +He had already beaten them back nearly to the bottom of the stairs, +when one of the gang, who had concealed himself in a niche, pierced +him through the back with a spike. + +Dashing his club amongst the retreating crowd, he turned with a cry of +rage, and seizing his murderer by the shoulders, dragged him down with +him to the ground. + +The first four who rushed to help the murderer were shot dead by +Jozsef Bardy, who, when he had fired off both his muskets, still +defended his prostrated brother with the butt-end of one, until he was +overpowered and disarmed; after which a party of them carried him out +to the iron cross, and crucified him on it amidst the most shocking +tortures. + +On trying to separate the other brother from his murderer, they found +them both dead. With his last strength Barnabas had choked his enemy, +whom he still held firmly in his deadly grip, and they were obliged to +cut off his hand in order to disengage the Wallachian's body. + +Tamas, the eldest brother, now alone survived. Seated in his armchair +he calmly awaited his enemies, with a large silver chandelier burning +on the table before him. + +As the noise approached his chamber, he drew from its jeweled sheath +his broad curved sword, and, placing it on the table before him, +proceeded coolly to examine the ancient blade, which was inscribed +with unknown characters. + +At last the steps were at the door; the handle was turned--it had not +even been locked. + +The magnate rose, and, taking his sword from the table, he stood +silently and calmly before the enemies, who rushed upon him with +fearful oaths, brandishing their weapons still reeking with the blood +of his brothers. + +The nobleman stood motionless as a statue until they came within two +paces of him, when suddenly the bright black steel gleamed above his +head, and the foremost man fell at his feet with his skull split to +the chin. The next received a deep gash in the shoulder of his +outstretched arm, but not a word escaped the magnate's lips, his +countenance retained its cold and stern expression as he looked at his +enemies in calm disdain, as if to say, "Even in combat a nobleman is +worth ten boors." + +Warding off with the skill of a professed swordsman every blow aimed +at him, he coolly measured his own thrusts, inflicting severe wounds +on his enemies' faces and heads; but the more he evaded them the more +furious they became. At last he received a severe wound in the leg +from a scythe, and feel on one knee; but without evincing the +slightest pain, he still continued fighting with the savage mob, +until, after a long and obstinate struggle, he fell without a murmur, +or even a death-groan. + +The enraged gang cut his body to pieces, and in a few minutes they had +hoisted his head on his own sword. Even then the features retained +their haughty, contemptuous expression. + +He was the last man of the family with whom they had to combat, but +more than a hundred of their own band lay stretched in the court and +before the windows, covering the stairs and rooms with heaps of +bodies, and when the shouts of triumph ceased for an instant, the +groans of the wounded and the dying were heard from every side. + +None now remained but women and children. When the Wallachians broke +into the castle, the widow had taken them all to the attics, leaving +the door open, that her brothers might find refuge in case they were +forced to retreat; and here the weaker members of the family awaited +the issue of the combat which was to bring them life or death, +listening breathlessly to the uproar, and endeavoring, from its +confused sounds, to determine good or evil. + +At last the voices died away, and the hideous cries of the besiegers +ceased. The trembling women believed that the Wallachians had been +driven out, and, breathing more freely, each awaited with impatience +the approach of brother--husband--sons. + +At last a heavy step was heard on the stairs leading to the garret. + +"This is Barnabas's step!" cried the widow, joyfully, and still +holding the pistols in her hand, she ran to the door of the garret. + +Instead of her expected brother, a savage form, drunken with blood, +strode towards her, his countenance burning with rage and triumph. + +The widow started back, uttering a shriek of terror, and then with +that unaccountable courage of desperation, she aimed one of the +pistols at the Wallachian's breast, who instantly fell backwards on +one of his comrades, who followed close behind. The other pistol she +discharged into her own bosom. + +And now we must draw a veil over the scene that followed. What +happened there must not be witnessed by human eyes. + +Suffice it to say, they murdered every one, women and children, with +the most refined and brutal cruelty, and then threw their dead bodies +out of the window from which Barnabas had dashed down the iron +fragments on the besiegers' heads. + +They left the old grandmother to the last, that she might witness the +extermination of her whole family. Happily for her, her eyes had +ceased to distinguish the light of sun, and ere long the light of an +eternal glory had risen upon them. + +The Wallachians then dug a common grave for the bodies, and threw them +all in together. The little one, whom his parents loved so well, they +cast in alive, his nurse having escaped from the attics and carried +him downstairs, where they had been overtaken by the savages. + +"There are only eleven here!" cried one of the gang, who had counted +the bodies, "one of them must be still alive somewhere--there ought to +be twelve!" And then they once more rushed through the empty rooms, +overturning all the furniture, and cutting up and breaking everything +they met with. They searched the garrets and every corner of the +cellars, but without success. + +At last a yell of triumph was heard. One of them had discovered a door +which, being painted of the same color as the walls, had hitherto +escaped their observation. It concealed a small apartment in the +turret. With a few blows of their axes it was broken open, and they +rushed in. + +"Ah! a rare booty!" cried the foremost of the ruffians, while, with +bloodthirsty curiosity, the others pressed round to see the new +victim. + +There lay the little orphan with the golden hair; her eyes were closed +and a death-like hue had overspread her beautiful features. + +Her aunt; with an instinctive foreboding, had concealed her here when +she took the others to the attic. + +The orphan grasped a sharp knife in her hand, with which she had +attempted to kill herself; and when her fainting hands refused the +fearful service, she had swooned in despair. + +"Ah!" cried the Wallachians, in savage admiration, their bloodthirsty +countenances assuming a still more hellish expression. + +"This is a common booty!" cried several voices together. + +"A beautiful girl! A noble lady! ha, ha! She will just suit the +tattered Wallachians!" And with their foul and bloody hands, they +seized the young girl by her fair slight arms. + +"Ha! what is going on here?" thundered a voice from behind. + +The Wallachians looked round. + +A figure stood among them fully a head taller than all the rest. He +wore a brass helmet, in which a deep cleft was visible, and held in +his left hand a Roman sword. His features bore the ancient Roman +character. + +"The Decurio!" they murmured, making way for him. + +"What is going on here?" he repeated; and seizing the fainting girl in +the arms of a Wallachian, he ordered him to lay her down. + +"She is one of our enemies," replied the savage insolently. + +"Silence, knave! Does one of the Roumin nation seek enemies in women? +Lay her down instantly." + +"Not so, leader," interrupted Lupey; "our laws entitle us to a +division of the spoil. This girl is our booty; she belongs to us after +the victory." + +"I know our laws better than you do, churl! Due division of spoil is +just and fair; but we cast lots for what cannot be divided." + +"True, leader: a horse or an ox cannot be divided, and for them we +cast lots, but in this case--" + +"I have said it cannot, and I should like to know who dares to say it +can!" + +Lupey knew the Decurio too well to proffer another syllable, and the +rest turned silently from the girl; one voice alone was heard to +exclaim, "It can!" + +"Who dares to say that?" cried the Decurio; "let him come forward!" + +A young Wallachian, with long plaited hair, confronted the Decurio. He +was evidently intoxicated, and replied, striking his breast with his +fist: "I said so." + +Scarcely had the words escaped his lips, than the Decurio, raising his +left hand, severed the contradictor's head at one stroke from his +body; and as it fell back, the lifeless trunk dropped on its knees +before the Decurio, with its arms around him, as if in supplication. + +"Dare anyone still say it can?" asked Numa, with merciless rigor. + +The Wallachians turned silently away. + +"Put the horses immediately to the carriage; the girl must be placed +in it, and brought to Topanfalvo. Whoever has the good fortune of +winning her, has a right to receive her as I confide her to you; but +if anyone of you should dare to offend her in the slightest degree, +even by a look or a smile, remember this and take example from it," +continued the Decurio, pointing with his sword to the headless body of +the young man. "And now you may go--destroy and pillage." + +At these words the band scattered right and left, the Decurio with the +fainting girl, whom he lifted into the carriage and confided to some +faithful retainers cf the family, pointing out the road across the +hills. + +In half an hour the castle was in flames and the Wallachians, +descending into the cellars, had knocked out the bottoms of the casks, +and bathed in the sea of flowing wine and brandy, singing wild songs, +while the fire burst from every window enveloping the blackened walls; +after which the revelers departed, leaving their dead, and those who +were too helplessly intoxicated to follow them. + +Meanwhile they brought the young girl to the Decurio's house, and as +each man considered that he had an equal right to the prize, they kept +a vigilant eye upon her, and none dared offend her so much as by a +look. + +When the Decurio arrived, they all crowded into the house with him, +filling the rooms, as well as the entrance and porch. + +Having laid out the spoil before them on the ground, the leader +proceeded to divide it into equal shares, retaining for himself a +portion of ten men, after which most of the band dispersed to their +homes; but a good many remained, greedily eyeing their still +unappropriated victim, who lay pale and motionless as the dead on the +couch of lime-boughs where they had laid her. + +"You are waiting, I suppose, to cast lots for the girl?" said Numa +dryly. + +"Certainly," replied Lupey, with an insolent leer; "and his she will +be who casts highest. If two, or ten, or twenty of us should cast the +same, we have an equal right to her." + +"I tell you only one can have her," interrupted Numa sternly. + +"Then those who win must cast again among each other." + +"Casting the die will not do; we may throw all day long, and two may +remain at the end." + +"Well, let us play cards for her." + +"I cannot allow that, the more cunning will deceive the simpler." + +"Well, write our names upon bricks, and throw them all into a barrel; +and whichever name you draw will take away the girl." + +"I can say what name I please, for none of you can read." + +The Wallachian shook his head impatiently. + +"Well, propose something yourself, Decurio." + +"I will. Let us try which of us can give the best proof of courage and +daring; and whoever can do that, shall have the girl, for he best +deserves her." + +"Well said!" cried the men unanimously. "Let us each relate what we +have done, and then you can judge which among us is the boldest." + +"I killed the first Bardy in the court in sight of his family." + +"I broke in the door, when that terrible man was dashing down the iron +on our heads." + +"But it was I who pierced his heart." + +"I mounted the stairs first." + +"I fought nearly half an hour with the noble in the cloth of gold." + +And thus they continued. Each man, according to his own account, was +the first and the bravest--each had performed miracles of valor. + +"You have all behaved with great daring, but it is impossible now to +prove what has happened. The proof must be given here, by all of us +together, before my eyes, indisputably." + +"Well, tell us how," said Lupey impatiently, always fearing that the +Decurio was going to deceive them. + +"Look here," said Numa, drawing a small cask from beneath the bed--and +in doing so he observed that the young girl half opened her eyes, as +she glanced at him, and then closed them. She was awake, and had heard +all. + +As he stooped down, Numa whispered gently in her ear: "Fear nothing," +and then drew the cask into the middle of the room. + +The Wallachians stared with impatient curiosity as he knocked out the +bottom of the cask with a hatchet. + +"This cask contains gunpowder," continued Decurio. "We will light a +match and place it in the middle of the cask, and whoever remains +longest in the room is undoubtedly the most courageous; for there is +enough here to blow up not only this house, but the whole of the +neighboring village." + +At this proposition several of the men began to murmur. + +"If any are afraid they are not obliged to remain," said the Decurio +dryly. + +"I agree," said Lupey doggedly. "I will remain here; and perhaps, +after all, it is poppy-seeds you have got there--it looks very much +like them." + +The Decurio stooped down, and taking a small quantity between his +fingers, threw it into the Wallachian's pipe, which immediately +exploded, causing him to stagger backwards, and the next instant he +stood with a blackened visage, sans beard and moustache, amidst the +jeers and laughter of his comrades. + +This only exasperated him the more. + +"I will stay for all that!" he exclaimed; and lifting up the pipe +which he had dropped, he walked over and lit it at the burning match +which the Decurio was placing in the cask. + +Upon this, two-thirds of the men left the room. + +The rest assembled around the cask with much noise and bravado, +swearing by heaven and earth that they would stay until the match +burned out; but the more they swore, the more they looked at the +burning match, the flame of which was slowly approaching the +gunpowder. + +For some minutes their courage remained unshaken, but after that they +ceased to boast, and began to look at each other in silent +consternation, while their faces grew paler every instant. At last one +or two rose and stood aloof; the others followed their example, and +some grinding their teeth with rage, others chattering with terror, +they all began to leave the room. + +Only two remained beside the cask; Numa, who stood with his arms +folded leaning against the foot of the bed; and Lupey, who was sitting +on the iron of the cask with his back turned to the danger, and +smoking furiously. + +As soon as they were alone, the latter glanced behind him and saw the +flame was within an inch of the powder. + +"I'll tell you what, Decurio," he said, springing up, "we are only two +left, don't let us make food of each other; let us come to an +understanding on this matter." + +"If you are tired of waiting, I can press the match lower." + +"This is no jest, Numa; you are risking your own life. How can you +wish to send us both to hell for the sake of a pale girl? But I'll +tell you what--I'll give her up to you if you will only promise that +she shall be mine when you are tired of her." + +"Remain here and win her--if you dare." + +"To what purpose?" said the Wallachian, in a whining voice, and in his +impatience he began to tear his clothes and stamp with his feet, like +a petted child. + +"What I have said stands good," said the Decurio; "whoever remains +longest has the sole right to the lady." + +"Well, I will stay, of course; but what do I gain by it? I know you +will stay, too, and then the devil will have us both; and I speak not +only for myself when I say I do not wish that." + +"If you do not wish it, you had better be gone." + +"Well, I don't care--if you will give me a golden mark." + +"Not the half; stay if you like it." + +"Decurio, this is madness! The flame will reach the powder +immediately." + +"I see it." + +"Well, say a dollar." + +"Not a whit." + +"May the seventy-seven limited thunder-bolt strike you on St. +Michael's Day!" roared the Wallachian fiercely, as he rushed to the +door; but after he had gone out, he once more thrust his head in and +cried: "Will you give even a florin? I am not gone yet." + +"Nor have I removed the match; you may come back." The Wallachian +slammed the door, and ran for his life, till exhausted and breathless +he sank under a tree, where he lay with his tunic over his head, and +his ears covered with his hands, only now and then raising his head +nervously, to listen for the awful explosion which was to blow up the +world. + +Meanwhile Numa coolly removed the match, which was entirely burnt +down; and throwing it into the grate, he stepped over to the bed and +whispered into the young girl's ear: "You are free!" + +Trembling, she raised herself in the bed and taking the Decurio's +large, sinewy hands within her own, she murmured: "Be merciful! O hear +my prayer, and kill me!" + +The Decurio stroked the fair hair of the lovely suppliant. + +"Poor child!" he replied gently; "you have nothing to fear; nobody +will hurt you now." + +"You have saved me from these fearful people--now save me from +yourself!" + +"You have nothing to fear from me," replied the Dacian, proudly; "I +fight for liberty alone, and you may rest as securely within my +threshold as on the steps of the altar. When I am absent you need have +no anxiety, for these walls are impregnable, and if anyone should dare +offend you by the slightest look, that moment shall be the last of his +mortal career. And when I am at home you have nothing to fear, for +woman's image never dwelt within my heart. Accept my poor couch, and +may your rest be sweet!--Imre Bardy slept on it last night." + +"Imre!" exclaimed the starting girl. "You have seen him, then?--oh! +where is he!" + +The Decurio hesitated. "He should not have delayed so long," he +murmured, pressing his hand against his brow; "all would have been +otherwise." + +"Oh! let me go to him; if you know where he is." + +"I do not know, but I am certain he will come here if he is +alive--indeed he must come." + +"Why do you think that?" + +"Because he will seek you." + +"Did he then speak--before you?" + +"As he lay wounded on that couch, he pronounced your name in his +dreams. Are you not that Jolanka Bardy whom they call 'The Angel'? I +knew you by your golden locks." + +The young girl cast down her eyes. "Then you think he will come?" she +said in a low voice. "And my relations?" + +"He will come as soon as possible; and now you must take some food and +rest. Do not think about your relations now; they are all in a safe +place--nobody can hurt them more." + +The Decurio brought some refreshment, laid a small prayer-book on the +pillow, and left the orphan by herself. + +The poor girl opened the prayer-book, and her tears fell like +rain-drops on the blessed page; but, overcome by the fatigue and +terror she had undergone, her head ere long sank gently back, and she +slept calmly and sweetly the sleep of exhausted innocence. + +As evening closed, the Decurio returned, and softly approaching the +bed, looked long and earnestly at the fair sleeper's face, until two +large tears stood unconsciously in his eyes. + +The Roumin hastily brushed away the unwonted moisture, and as if +afraid of the feeling which had stolen into his breast, he hastened +from the room, and laid himself upon his woolen rug before the open +door. + +The deserted castle still burned on, shedding a ghastly light on the +surrounding landscape, while the deepest silence reigned around, only +broken now and then by an expiring groan, or the hoarse song of a +drunken reveler. + +Day was beginning to dawn as a troop of horsemen galloped furiously +towards the castle from the direction of Kolozsvar. + +They were Imre and his comrades. + +Silently and anxiously they pursued their course, their eyes fixed +upon one point, as they seemed to fly rather than gallop along the +road. "We are too late!" exclaimed one of the party at last, pointing +to a dim red smoke along the horizon. "Your castle is burning!" + +Without returning an answer, Imre spurred his panting horse to a +swifter pace. A turn in the road suddenly brought the castle to their +view, its blackened walls still burning, while red smoke rose high +against the side of the hill. + +The young man uttered a fierce cry of despair, and galloped madly down +the declivity. In less than a quarter of an hour he stood before the +ruined walls. + +"Where is my father? where are my family? where is my bride?" he +shrieked in frantic despair, brandishing his sword over the head of a +half-drunken Wallachian, who was leaning against the ruined portico. + +The latter fell to his knees, imploring mercy, and declaring that it +was not he who killed them. + +"Then they are dead!" exclaimed the unhappy youth, as, half-choked by +his sobs, he fell forward on his horse's neck. + +Meanwhile his companions had ridden up, and immediately sounded the +Wallachian, whom, but for Imre's interference, they would have cut +down. + +"Lead us to where you have buried them. Are they all dead?" he +continued; "have you not left one alive? Accursed be the sun that +rises after such a night!" + +The Wallachian pointed to a large heap of fresh-raised mould. "They +are all there!" he said. + +Imre fell from his horse without another word, as if struck down. + +His companions removed him to a little distance, where the grass was +least red. + +They then began to dig twelve graves with their swords. + +Imre watched them in silence. He seemed unconscious what they were +about. + +When they had finished the graves they proceeded to open the large +pit, but the sight was too horrible, and they carried Imre away by +force. He could not have looked on what was there and still retain his +senses. + +In a short time, one of his comrades approached and told him that +there were only eleven bodies in the grave. + +"Then one of them must be alive!" cried Imre, a slight gleam of hope +passing over his pale features; "which is it?--speak! Is there not a +young girl with golden locks among them?" + +"I know not," stammered his comrade, in great embarrassment. + +"You do not know?--go and look again." His friend hesitated. + +"Let me go--I must know," said Imre impatiently, as the young man +endeavored to detain him. + +"O stay, Imre, you cannot look on them; they are all headless!" + +"My God!" exclaimed the young man, covering his face with both hands, +and, bursting into tears he threw himself down with his face upon the +earth. + +His comrades questioned the Wallachian closely as to what he knew +about the young girl. First he returned no answer, pretending to be +drunk and not to understand: + +But on their promising to spare his life, on the sole condition that +he would speak the truth, he confessed that she had been carried away +to the mountains, where the band were to cast lots for her. + +"I must go!" said Imre, starting as if in a trance. + +"Whither?" inquired his comrades. + +"To seek her! Take off your dress," he continued, turning to the +Wallachian, "you may have mine in exchange," and, hastily putting on +the tunic, he concealed his pistols in the girdle beneath it. + +"We will follow you," said his comrades, taking up their arms; "we +will seek her from village to village." + +"No, no, I must go alone! I shall find her more easily alone. If I do +not return, avenge this for me," he said, pointing to the moat; then, +turning to the Wallachian, he added sternly: "I have found beneath +your girdle a gold medallion, which my grandmother wore suspended from +her neck, and by which I know you to be one of her murderers, and, had +I not promised to spare your life, you should now receive the +punishment that you deserve. Keep him here," he said to his comrades, +"until I have crossed the hills, and then let him go." + +And taking leave of his friends, he cast one glance at the eleven +heaps, and at the burning castle of his ancestors, and hastened toward +the mountains. + +The hoary autumn nights had dyed the leaves of the forest. The whole +country looked as if it had been washed in blood. + +Deep amidst the wildest forest the path suddenly descends into a +narrow valley, surrounded by steep rocks at the foot of which lies a +little village half concealed among the trees. + +It seemed as if the settlers there had only cleared sufficient ground +to build their dwellings, leaving all the rest a dense forest. Apart +from the rest, on the top of a rock, stood a cottage, which, unlike +others, was constructed entirely of large blocks of stone, and only +approachable by a small path cut in the rock. + +A young man ascended this path. He was attired in a peasant's garb and +although he evidently had traveled far, his step was light and fleet. +When he had ascended about halfway, he was suddenly stopped by an +armed Wallachian, who had been kneeling before a shrine in the rock, +and seeing the stranger, rose and stood in his path. + +The latter pronounced the Decurio's name, and produced his paszura. + +The Wallachian examined it on every side, and then stepped back to let +the stranger pass, after which he once more laid down his scythe and +cap, and knelt before the shrine. + +The stranger knocked at the Decurio's door, which was locked, and an +armed Wallachian appeared from behind the rocks, and informed him that +the Decurio was not at home, only his wife. + +"His wife?" exclaimed the stranger in surprise. + +"Yes, that pale girl who fell to him by lot." + +"And she is his wife." + +"He told us so himself, and swore that if any of us dared so much as +lift his eye upon her, he would send him to St. Nicholas in paradise." + +"Can I not see her?" + +"I would not advise you; for if the Decurio hears of it, he will make +halves of you; but you may go around to the window if you like--only +let me get out of the way first, that the Decurio may not find me +here." + +The stranger hastened to the window, and looking in, he saw the young +girl seated on an armchair made of rough birch boughs, with a little +prayer-book on her knee; her fair arm supporting her head, while a +mass of golden ringlets half veiled her face, which was as pale as an +alabaster statue; the extreme sadness of its expression rendering her +beauty still more touching. + +"Jolanka!" exclaimed the stranger passionately. + +She started at the well-known voice, and, uttering a cry of joy, +rushed to the window. + +"Oh, Imre!" she murmured, "are you come at last!" + +"Can I not enter? can I not speak with you?" + +The young girl hastened to unbar the door, which was locked on the +inside, and as Imre entered she threw herself into his arms, while he +pressed her fondly to his heart. + +The Wallachian, who had stolen to the window, stood aghast with terror +and, soon as the Decurio arrived, he ran to meet him, and related, +with vehement gesticulations, how the girl had thrown herself into the +peasant's arms. + +"And how did you know that?" asked Numa coldly. + +"I saw them through the window." + +"And dared you look through my window? Did I not forbid you? Down on +your knees, and pray!" + +The Wallachian fell on his knees, and clasped his hands. + +"Rebel! you deserve your punishment of death for having disobeyed my +commands; and if you ever dare to open your lips on the subject, +depend upon it, you shall not escape!" And with these words he strode +away, leaving the astonished informer on his knees, in which posture +he remained for some time afterwards, not daring to raise his head +until the Decurio's steps had died away. + +As Numa entered the house, the lovers hastened to meet him. For an +instant or two he stood at the threshold, regarding the young man with +a look of silent reproach. "Why did you come so late?" he asked. + +Imre held out his hand, but the Decurio did not accept it. + +"The blood of your family is on my hand," he whispered. "You have let +dishonor come on me, and mourning on yourself." + +The young man's head sunk on his breast in silent anguish. + +"Take his hand," said Jolanka, in her low, sweet accents; and then +turning to Imre, "He saved your life--he saved us both, and he will +rescue our family, too." + +Imre looked at her in astonishment. + +The Decurio seized his arms and drew him aside. "She does not know +that they are dead," he whispered; "she was not with them, and knows +nothing of their fate; and I have consoled her with the idea that they +are all prisoners, she must never know the horrors of that fearful +night." + +"But sooner or later she will hear it." + +"Never! you must leave the place and the kingdom. You must go to +Turkey." + +"My way lies towards Hungary." + +"You must not think of it. Evil days await that country; your prophets +do not see them, but I know, and see them clearly. Go to Turkey; I +will give you letters by which you may pass in security through +Wallachia and Moldavia; and here is a purse of gold--do not scruple to +accept it, for it is your own, it belonged to _them_. Promise me, for +her sake," he continued earnestly, pointing to Jolanka, "that you will +not go to Hungary." + +Imre hesitated. "I cannot promise what I am not sure I shall fulfill; +but I shall remember your advice." + +Numa took the hands of the two lovers, and, gazing long and earnestly +on their faces, he said, in a voice of deep feeling, "You love one +another?" + +They pressed his hand in silence. + +"You will be happy--you will forget your misfortunes. God bless and +guide you on your way! Take these letters, and keep the direct road to +Brasso,[9] by the Saxon-land.[10] You will find free passage +everywhere, and never look behind until the last pinnacles of the +snowy mountains are beyond your sight. Go! we will not take leave, not +a word, let us forget each other!" + +The Decurio watched the lovers until they were out of sight; and +called to them, even when they could hear him no longer: "Do not go +towards Hungary." + +He then entered his house. The prayer-book lay open as the young girl +had left it; the page was still damp with her tears. Numa's hand +trembled, as he kissed the volume fervently and placed it in his +bosom. + +When night came on, the Roumin lay down on his wolf-skin couch, where +the golden-haired maiden, and her lover before her, had slept, but it +seemed as if they had stolen his rest--he could not close his eyes +there, so he rose and went out on the porch, where he spread his rug +before the open door; but it was long ere he could sleep--there was an +unwonted feeling at his heart, something like happiness, yet +inexpressibly sad; and, buried in deep reverie, he lay with his eyes +fixed on the dark blue starry vault above him till past midnight. +Suddenly he thought he heard the report of some fire-arms at a great +distance, and at the same moment two stars sank beneath the horizon. +Numa thought of the travelers, and a voice seemed to whisper, "They +are now happy!" + +The moon had risen high in the heavens, when the Decurio was roused +from his sleep by heavy footsteps, and five or six Wallachians, among +whom was Lupey, stood before him. + +"We have brought two enemies' heads," said the latter, with a dark +look at the Decurio; "pay us their worth!" and taking two heads from +his pouch he laid them on Numa's mat. + +The Wallachians watched their leader's countenance with sharp, +suspicious glances. + +Numa recognized the two heads by the light of the moon. They were +those of Imre and Jolanka, but his features did not betray the +slightest emotion. + +"You will know them probably," continued Lupey. "The young magnate, +who escaped us at the pass, came for the girl in your absence, and at +the same time stole your money, and, what is more, we found your +paszura upon him also." + +"Who killed them?" asked the Decurio, in his usual calm voice. + +"None of us," replied the Wallachian; "as we rushed upon them, the +young magnate drew two pistols from his girdle, and shot the girl +through the head first, and himself afterwards." + +"Were you all there?" + +"And more of us besides." + +"Go back and bring the rest. I will divide the money you have found on +them among you. Make haste; and should one of you remain behind, his +share will be divided among the rest." + +The Wallachians hastened to seek their comrades with cries of joy. + +The Decurio then locked the door, and, throwing himself upon the +ground beside the two heads, he kissed them a hundred times, and +sobbed like a child. + +"I warned you not to go toward Hungary!" he said bitterly. "Why did +you not hear me, unhappy children? why did you not take my word?" and +he wept over his enemies' heads as if he had been their father. + +He then rose, his eyes darting fire, and, shaking his terrible fist, +he cried, in a voice hoarse with rage: "Czine mintye!"[11] + +In a few hours, the Wallachians had assembled before the Decurio's +house. They were about fifty or sixty, all wild, fearful-looking men. + +Numa covered the two heads with a cloth, and laid them on the bed, +after which he opened the door. + +Lupey entered last. + +"Lock the door," said Numa, when they were all in; "we must not be +interrupted;" and, making them stand in a circle, he looked around at +them all, one by one. + +"Are you all here?" he asked at last. + +"Not one is absent." + +"Do you consider yourselves all equally deserving of sharing _the +booty_?" + +"All of us." + +"It was you," he continued to Lupey, "who struck down the old man?" + +"It was." + +"And you who pierced the magnate with a spike?" + +"You are right, leader." + +"And you really killed all the women in the castle?" turning to a +third. + +"With my own hand." + +"And one and all of you can boast of having massacred, and plundered, +and set on fire?" + +"All! all!" they cried, striking their breasts. + +"Do not lie before Heaven. See! your wives are listening at the window +to what you say, and will betray you if you do not speak the truth." + +"We speak the truth!" + +"It is well!" said the leader, as he calmly approached the bed; and, +seating himself on it, uncovered the two heads and placed them on his +knee. "Where did you put their bodies?" he asked. + +"We cut them in pieces and strewed them on the highroad." + +There was a short silence. Numa's breathing became more and more +oppressed, and his large chest heaved convulsively. "Have you prayed +yet?" he asked in an altered voice. + +"Not yet, leader. What should we pray for?" said Lupey. + +"Fall down on your knees and pray, for this is the last morning which +will dawn on any of you again." + +"Are you in your senses, leader? What are you going to do?" + +"I am going to purge the Roumin nation of a set of ruthless murderers +and brigands. Miserable wretches; instead of glory, you have brought +dishonor and disgrace upon our arms wherever you have appeared. While +the brave fought on the field of battle, you slaughtered their wives +and children; while they risked their lives before the cannon's mouth +you attacked the house of the sleepers and robbed and massacred the +helpless and the innocent. Fall down on your knees and pray for your +souls, for the angel of death stands over you, to blot out your memory +from among the Roumin people!" + +The last words were pronounced in a fearful tone. Numa was no longer +the cold unmoved statue he had hitherto appeared, he was like a fiery +genius of wrath, whose very breath was destruction. + +The Wallachians fell upon their knees in silent awe, while the women +who had been standing outside, rushed shrieking down the rocks. + +The Decurio drew a pistol from his breast, and approached the cask of +gunpowder. + +With a fearful howl, they rushed upon him; the shriek of despair was +heard for an instant, then the terrible explosion which caused the +rocks to tremble, while the flames rose with a momentary flash amidst +clouds of dust and smoke, scaring the beasts of the forest, and +scattering stones and beams, and hundreds of dismembered limbs, far +through the valley, and over the houses of the terrified inhabitants! + +When the smoke had dissipated, a heap of ruins stood in the place of +Numa's dwelling. + +The sun rose and smiled upon the earth, which was strewed with the +last leaves of autumn, but where were those who had assembled at the +spring-time of the year? + +The evening breezes whispered mournfully through the ruined walls, and +strewed the faded leaves upon eleven grassy mounds. + +The pen trembles in my hand--my heart sickens at the recital of such +misery. + +Would that I could believe it an imagination--the ghostly horror of a +fevered brain! + +Would that I could bid my gentle readers check the falling tear or +tell them: "Start not with horror; it is but romance--the creation of +some fearful dream--let us awake and see it no more!" + +FOOTNOTES TO _THIRTEEN AT TABLE_: + +[1: There is a race of the Hungarians in the Carpath who, unlike the +Hungarians of the plain, have blue eyes and often fair hair.] + +[2: Part of the free corps raised in 1848.] + +[3: Blue and gold are the colors of Transylvania.] + +[4: Transylvania.] + +[5: Klausenburg.] + +[6: The Wallachians were, in the days of Trajan, subdued by the +Romans, with whom they became intermixed, and are also called Roumi.] + +[7: Everything on which a double-headed eagle--the emblem of the +Austrian Government--was painted, engraved or sculptured, the +Wallachians called paszura.] + +[8: Olah, Wallachian--ok, plural.] + +[9: Brasso, or Kyonstadt, a town in the southeast of Transylvania, on +the frontier of Wallachia.] + +[10: A district inhabited by a colony of Saxons.] + +[11: Czine mintye!--A Wallachian term signifying revenge.] + + + +TIENNE BRSONY + + +_THE DANCING BEAR_ + + +Fife and drum were heard from the big market-place. + +People went running towards it. In a village the slightest unusual +bustle makes a riot. Everybody is curious to know the cause of the +alarm, and whether the wheels of the world are running out of their +orbit. In the middle of the great dusty market-place some stunted +locust trees were hanging their faint, dried foliage, and from far off +one could already see that underneath these miserable trees a tall, +handsome, young man and a huge, plump dark-brown, growling bear were +hugging each other. + +Joco, the bear-leader, was giving a performance. His voice rang like a +bugle-horn, and, singing his melancholy songs, he from time to time +interrupted himself and hurrahed, whereupon the bear began to spring +and roar angrily. The two stamped their feet, holding close together, +like two tipsy comrades. But the iron-weighted stick in the young +man's hand made it evident that the gigantic beast was quite capable +of causing trouble, and was only restrained from doing so because it +had learnt from experience that the least outbreak never failed to +bring down vengeance upon its back. The bear was a very powerful +specimen from Bosnia, with thick brown fur and a head as broad as a +bull's. When he lifted himself up on his hind legs he was half a head +taller than Joco, his master. + +The villagers stood round them with anxious delight, and animated the +bear with shouts of "Jump, Ibrahim! Hop, Ibrahim!" but nobody ventured +to go near. Joco was no stranger to these people. After every harvest +he visited the rich villages of Bnt with his bear. They knew that he +was a native of the frontier of Slavonia, and they were not +particularly keen to know anything else about him. A man who leads +such a vagrant life does not stay long in any one place, and has +neither friends nor foes anywhere. They supposed that he spent part of +the year in Bosnia, perhaps the winter, visiting, one after the other, +the Servian monasteries. Now, in midsummer, when he was least to be +expected, they suddenly hear his fife and drum. + +Ibrahim, the big old bear, roused the whole village in less than a +quarter of an hour with his far-reaching growls. The dogs crouched +horror-struck, their hair standing on end, barking at him in fear and +trembling. + +When Joco stopped at some street corner, or in the market-place, and +began to beat his rattling drum, the bear lifted himself with heavy +groans on his hind legs, and then the great play began, the cruel +amusement, the uncanny, fearful embracings which one could never be +sure would not end fatally. For Joco is not satisfied to let Ibrahim +jump and dance, but, whistling and singing, grasps the wild beast's +skin, and squeezes his paws; and so the two dance together, the one +roaring and groaning, the other singing with monotonous voice a +melancholy song. + +The company of soldiers stationed in the village was just returning +from drill, and Captain Winter, Ritter von Wallishausen, turned in +curiosity his horse's head towards the crowd, and made a sign to +Lieutenant Vig to lead the men on. His fiery half-blood Graditz horse +snuffed the disgusting odor of the wild beast, and would go no nearer. + +The Captain called a hussar from the last line that passed him, and +confided the stubborn horse to his charge. Then he bent his steps +towards the swaying crowd. The villagers opened out a way for him, and +soon the Captain stood close behind the bear-leader. But before he +could fix his eyes on Ibrahim they were taken captive by something +else. + +A few steps away from Joco a young girl sat upon the ground, gently +stroking a light-colored little bear. They were both so huddled up +together that the villagers scarcely noticed them, and the Captain was +therefore all the better able to observe the young woman, who appeared +to be withdrawing herself as much as possible from public gaze. And +really she seemed to be an admirable young creature. She was slight of +build, perhaps not yet fully developed, with the early ripeness of the +Eastern beauty expressed in face and figure--a black cherry, at sight +of which the mouth of such a gourmand as the Ritter von Wallishausen +would naturally water! Her fine face seemed meant only to be the +setting of her two black eyes. She wore a shirt of coarse linen, a +frock of many-colored material, and a belt around her waist. Her +beautifully formed bosom, covered only by the shirt, rose and fell in +goddesslike shamelessness. A string of glass beads hung round her +neck, and two long earrings tapped her cheeks at every movement. She +made no effort to hide her bare feet, but now and then put back her +untidy but beautiful black hair from her forehead and eyes; for it was +so thick that if she did not do so she could not see. + +The girl felt that the Captain's fiery gaze was meant for her and not +for the little bear. She became embarrassed, and instinctively turned +her head away. Just at this moment Joco turned round with Ibrahim. The +tall Servian peasant let the whistle fall from his hand, and the wild +dance came to an end. Ibrahim understood that the performance was +over, and, putting down his front paws on the ground, licked, as he +panted, the strong iron bars of his muzzle. + +The Captain and Joco looked at each other. The powerful young +bear-leader was as pale as death. He trembled as if something terrible +had befallen him. Captain Winter looked at him searchingly. Where, he +asked himself, had he met this man? + +The villagers did not understand what was going on, and began to +shout, "Zorka! Now, Zorka, it is your turn with Mariska." The cries of +the villagers brought Joco to himself, and with a motion worthy of a +player he roused the little bear to its feet. Then he made signs to +the girl. Being too excited to blow his whistle, he started singing +and beating the drum; but his voice trembled so much that by and by he +left off singing and let the girl go through her performance alone. + +Then the Captain saw something that wrought him up to ecstasy. Zorka +was singing a sad Bosnian song in her tender, crooning voice, and +dancing with graceful steps round the little bear, who, to tell the +truth, also danced more lightly than the heavy Ibrahim, and was very +amusing when he lifted his paw to his head as Hungarians do when they +are in high spirits and break forth in hurrahs. + +Captain Winter, however, saw nothing but the fair maid, whose pearly +white teeth shone out from between her red lips. He felt he would like +to slip a silk ribbon round her waist, which swayed as lightly as a +reed waving to and fro in the wind, and lead her off as if she were a +beautiful colored butterfly. + +Zorka grew tired of the sad, melancholy song, and began to dance +wildly and passionately. Perhaps her natural feminine vanity was +roused within her, and she wanted to show off at her best before the +handsome soldier. Her eyes sparkled; a flush spread from time to time +over her face; with her sweet voice she animated the little bear, +crying, "Mariska, Mariska, jump!" But after a while she seemed to +forget the growling little creature altogether, and went on dancing a +kind of graceful fandango of her own invention. As she swayed, it +seemed as if the motion and excitement caused every fiber of her body +to flash out a sort of electric glow. By the time the girl flung +herself, quite exhausted, in the dust at his feet, Captain Winter was +absolutely beside himself. Such a morsel of heavenly daintiness did +not often drop in his path now that he was fasting in this purgatory +of a village. His stay there had been one long Lent, during which joys +and pleasures had been rare indeed. + +It began to grow dark. At the other end of the market-place several +officers were on their way to supper at the village inn where they +always messed. The Captain turned to the man and woman in possession +of the bears and ordered them in no friendly tone to go with him to +the inn as his guests. Joco bowed humbly like a culprit, and gloomily +led on his comrade Ibrahim. Zorka, on the contrary, looked gay as she +walked along beside the light-colored bear. + +The Captain looked again and again at the bear-leader walking in front +of him. "Where have I seen this fellow before?" he kept asking +himself. His uncertainty did not last long. His face brightened. "Oh, +yes; I remember!" he inwardly exclaimed. Now he felt sure that this +black cherry of Bosnia, this girl with the waist of a dragonfly, was +his. + +The inn, once a gentleman's country-house, was built of stone. The +bears were lodged in a little room which used to serve the former +owner of the house as pantry, and were chained to the strong iron +lattice of the window. In one corner of this little room the landlord +ordered one of his servants to make a good bed of straw. "The Captain +will pay for it," he said. + +When everything was ready in the little room, the Captain called Joco +and took him there. He knew that what he was going to do was not +chivalrous; but he had already worked himself up to a blaze of +excitement over the game he meant to play, and this fellow was too +stupid to understand what a hazardous piece of play it was. When they +were alone he stood erect before the bear-leader and looked fixedly +into his eyes. + +"You are Joco Hics," he said; "two years ago you deserted from my +regiment." + +The strong, tall, young peasant began to tremble so that his knees +knocked together, but could not answer a single word. Fritz Winter, +Ritter von Wallishausen, whispered into Joco's ear, his speech +agitated and stuttering: "You have a woman with you," he said, "who +surely is not your wife. Set her free. I will buy her from you for any +price you ask. You can go away with your bears and pluck yourself +another such flower where you found this one." + +Joco stood motionless for a while as if turned into stone. + +He did not tremble any longer: the crisis was over. He had only been +frightened as long as he was uncertain whether or not he would be +instantly hanged if he were found out. + +"In all Bosnia," he answered gloomily, "there was only one such flower +and that I stole." + +Before a man who was willing to share his guilt, he dared acknowledge +his crime. In truth, this man was no better than himself. He only wore +finer clothes. + +The Captain became impatient. "Are you going to give her up, or not?" +he asked. "I do not want to harm you; but I could put you in prison +and in chains, and what would become of your sweetheart then?" + +Joco answered proudly: "She would cry her eyes out for me; otherwise +she would not have run away from her rich father's house for my sake." + +Ah! thought the Captain, if it were only that! By degrees I could win +her to me. + +But it was not advisable to make a fuss, whether for the sake of his +position or because of his wife, who lived in town. + +"Joco, I tell you what," said the Captain, suddenly becoming calm. "I +am going away now for a short time. I shall be gone about an hour. By +that time everybody will be in bed. The officers who sup with me, and +the innkeeper and his servants, will all be sound asleep. I give you +this time to think it over. When I come back you will either hold out +your hand to be chained or to receive a pile of gold in it. In the +meantime I shall lock you in there, because I know how very apt you +are to disappear." He went out, and turned the key twice in the lock. +Joco was left alone. + +When the hour had expired Captain Winter noisily opened the door. His +eyes sparkled from the strong wine he had taken during supper, as well +as from the exquisite expectation which made his blood boil. + +Joco stood smiling submissively before him. "I have thought it over, +sir," he said. "I will speak with the little Zorka about it." + +Ritter Winter now forgot that he was speaking with a deserter, whom it +was his duty to arrest. He held out his hand joyfully to the Bosnian +peasant, and said encouragingly: "Go speak with her; but make haste. +Go instantly." + +They crept together to the pantry where the girl slept near the +chained bears. Joco opened the door without making a sound, and +slipped in. It seemed to the Captain that he heard whispering inside. +These few moments seemed an eternity to him. At last the bear-leader +reappeared and, nodding to the Captain, said: "Sir, you are expected." + +Captain Winter had undoubtedly taken too much wine. He staggered as he +entered the pantry, the door of which the bear-leader shut and locked +directly he had entered. He then listened with such an expression on +his face as belongs only to a born bandit. Almost immediately a +growling was heard, and directly afterwards some terrible swearing and +a fall. The growling grew stronger and stronger. At last it ended in a +wild roar. A desperate cry disturbed the stillness of the night: +"Help! help!" + +In the yard and round about it the dogs woke up, and with terrible +yelping ran towards the pantry, where the roaring of the bear grew +ever wilder and more powerful. The rattling of the chain and the cries +of the girl mingled with Ibrahim's growling. The neighbors began to +wake up. Human voices, confused questionings, were heard. The +inn-keeper and his servants appeared on the scene in their night +clothes, but, hearing the terrible roaring, fled again into security. +The Captain's cries for help became weaker and weaker. And now Joco +took his iron stake, which he always kept by him, opened the door, and +at one bound was at the side of the wild beast. His voice sounded +again like thunder, and the iron stick fell with a thud on the bear's +back. Ibrahim had smelt blood. Beneath his paws a man's mangled body +was writhing. The beast could hardly be made to let go his prey. In +the light that came through the small window, Joco soon found the +chain from which not long before he had freed Ibrahim, and with a +swift turn he put the muzzle over the beast's jaws. It was done in a +twinkling. During this time Zorka had been running up and down the +empty yard, crying in vain for help. Nobody had dared come near. + +The following day Captain Fritz Winter, Ritter von Wallishausen, was +lying between burning wax candles upon his bier. Nobody could be made +responsible for the terrible accident. Why did he go to the bears when +he was not sober? + +But that very day the siren of Bosnia danced her wild dance again in +the next village, and with her sweet, melodious voice urged the +light-colored little bear: "Mariska, jump, jump!" + + + +ARTHUR ELCK + + +_THE TOWER ROOM_ + + +There were many wonderful things that aroused our childish fantasy, +when Balint Orzo and I were boys, but none so much as the old tower +that stands a few feet from the castle, shadowy and mysterious. It is +an old, curious, square tower, and at the brink of its notched edge +there is a shingled helmet which was erected by one of the late Orzos. + +There is many and many a legend told about this old tower. A rumor +exists that it has a secret chamber into which none is permitted to +enter, except the head of the family. Some great secret is concealed +in the tower-room, and when the first-born son of the Orzo family +becomes of age his father takes him there and reveals it. And the +effect of the revelation is such that every young man who enters that +room comes out with gray hair. + +As to what the secret might be, there was much conjecturing. One +legend had it that once some Orzo imprisoned his enemies in the tower +and starved them until the unfortunates ate each other in their crazed +suffering. + +According to another story Kelemen Orzo ordered his faithless wife +Krisztina Olaszi to be plastered into the wall of the room. Every +night since, sobbing is heard from the tower. + +Another runs that every hundred years a child with a dog's face is +born in the Orzo family and that this little monster has to perish in +the tower-room, so as to hide the disgrace of the family. + +Another conjecture was that once the notorious Menyhart Orzo, who was +supreme under King Rudolph in the castle, played a game of checkers +with his neighbor, Boldizsar Zomolnoky. They commenced to play on a +Monday and continued the game and drank all week until Sunday morning +dawned upon them. Then Menyhart Orzo's confessor came and pleaded with +the gamblers. He begged them to stop the game on the holy day of +Sunday, when all true Christians are in church praising the Lord. But +Menyhart, bringing his fist down on the table in such rage that all +the wine glasses and bottles danced, cried: "And if we have to sit +here till the world comes to an end, we won't stop till we have +finished this game!" + +Scarcely had he uttered his vow when, somewhere from the earth, or +from the wall, a thundering voice was heard promising to take him at +his word--that they would continue playing till the end of the world. +And ever since, the checkers are heard rattling, and the two damned +souls are still playing the game in the tower-room. + +When we were boys, the secret did not give us any rest, and we were +always discussing and plotting as to how we could discover it. We made +at least a hundred various plans, but all failed. It was an +impossibility to get into the tower, because of a heavy iron-barred +oaken door. The windows were too high to be reached. We had to satisfy +ourselves with throwing a well-aimed stone, which hit the room through +the window. Such an achievement was somewhat of a success, for +oftentimes we drove out an alarmed flock of birds. + +One day I decided that the best way would be to find out the secret of +the tower from Balint's father himself. "He is the head of the +family," I thought, "and if any light is to be had on the mystery, it +is through him." But Balint didn't like the idea of approaching the +old man; he knew his father's temper. + +However, once he ventured the question, but he was sorry for it +afterwards, for the older Orzo flew into a passion, and scolded and +raged, ending by telling him that he must not listen to such +nursery-tales; that the tower was moldering and decaying with age; +that the floor timbers and staircase were so infirm that it would fall +to pieces should anyone approach it; and that this was why no one +could gain admittance. + +For a long time afterwards neither of us spoke of it. + +But curiosity was incessantly working within us, and one evening +Balint solemnly vowed to me that as soon as he became of age and had +looked into the room, he would call for me, should I be even at the +end of the world, and would let me into the secret. In order to make +it more solemn, we called this a "blood-contract." + +With this vow we parted. My parents sent me to college; Balint had a +private tutor and was kept at home in the castle. After that we only +met at vacation time. + +Eight years passed before I saw the Orzo home again. At Balint's +urgent, sudden invitation I had hurriedly journeyed back to my rocky +fatherland. + +I had scarcely stepped on the wide stone stairway leading from the +terrace in the front of the castle, when someone shouted that the +honorable master was near! He came galloping in on a foaming horse. I +looked at him and started, as if I had seen a ghost, for this thin, +tall rider was the perfect resemblance of his father. The same knotty +hair and bearded head, the same densely furrowed face, the same deep, +calm, gray eyes. And his hair and beard were almost as white as his +father's! + +He came galloping through the gate, pulled the bridle with a sudden +jerk, and the next moment was on the paving; then with one bound he +reached the terrace, and had me in his strong arms. With wild +eagerness he showed me into the castle and at the same time kept +talking and questioning me without ceasing. Then he thrust me into my +room and declared that he gave me fifteen minutes--no more--to dress. + +The time had not even expired, when he came, like a whirlwind, +embraced me again and carried me into the dining-room. There +chandeliers and lamps were already lit; the table was elaborately +decorated, and bore plenty of wine. + +At the meal he spoke again. Nervously jerking out his words, he was +continually questioning me on one subject and then another, without +waiting for the answer. He laughed often and harshly. When we came to +the drinking, he winked to the servants, and immediately five Czigany +musicians entered the room. Balint noticed the astonishment on my +face, and half evasively said: + +"I have sent to Iglo for them in honor of you. Let the music sound, +and the wine flow; who knows when we will see each other again?" + +He put his face into his palm. The Cziganys played old Magyar songs. +Balint glanced at me now and then, and filled the glasses; we clinked +them together, but he always seemed to be worried. + +It was dawning. The soft sound of a church bell rose to us. Balint put +his hand on my shoulder and bent to my ear. + +"Do you know how my father died?" he asked in a husky voice. "He +killed himself." + +I looked at him with amazement; I wanted to speak, but he shook his +head, and grasped my hand. + +"Do you remember my father?" he asked me. Of course; while I looked at +him it seemed as if his father were standing before me. The very +fibrous, skinny figure, the muscles and flesh seeming peeled off. Even +through his coat arm I felt the naked, unveiled nerves. + +"I always admired and honored my father, but we were never true +intimates; I knew that he loved me, but I felt as if it was not for my +own sake; as if he loved something in my soul that was strange to me. +I never saw him smile; sometimes he was so harsh that I was afraid of +him; at another time he was unmanageable." + +"I did not understand him, but the older I became the better did I +feel that there was a sad secret germinating in the bottom of his +soul, where it grew like a spreading tree, the branches of which crept +up to the castle and covered the walls, little by little overshadowed +the sunlight, absorbed the air, and darkened everyone's heart. I +gritted my teeth in vain; I could not work; I could not start to +accomplish anything. I struggled with hundreds and hundreds of +determinations; to-day I prepared for this or that; to-morrow for +something else; ambition pressed me within; I could not make up my +mind. Behind every resolution I made, I noticed my father's +countenance, like a note of interrogation. The old fables that we +heard together in our childhood were renewed in my memory. Little by +little the thought grew within me, like a fixed delusion, that my +father's fatal secret was locked up in the tower room. After that I +lived by the calendar and dwelt on the passing of time on the clock. +And when the sun that shone on me when I was born arose the +twenty-fourth time, I pressed my hand on my heart and entered my +father's room--this very room. + +"'Father,' I said, 'I became of age to-day, everything may be opened +before me, and I am at liberty to know everything.' Father looked at +me and pondered over this. + +"'Oh, yes!' he whispered, 'this is the day.' + +"'I may know everything now,' continued I; 'I am not afraid of any +secrets. In the name of our family tradition, I beg of you, please +open the tower-room.' + +"Father raised his hand, as if he wanted to make me become silent. His +face was as white as a ghost. + +"'Very well,' he murmured, 'I will open the tower-room for you.' + +"And then he pulled off his coat, tore his shirt on his breast, and +pointed to his heart. + +"'Here is the tower-room, my boy!' did he whisper in a husky voice. +'Here is the tower-room, and within our family secret. Do you see it?' + +"That is all he said, but when I looked at him I immediately perceived +the secret; everything was clear before me and I had a presentiment +that something was nearing its end, something about to break. + +"Father walked up and down; and then he stopped and pointed to this +picture; to this very picture. + +"'Did you ever thoroughly look at your ancestors? They are all from +the Orzos. If you scrutinize their faces you will recognize in them +your father, yourself, and your grandfather; and if you ever read +their documents, which were left to us--there they are in the +box--then you will know that they are just the same material as we +are. Their way of thinking was the same as ours and so were their +desires, their wills, their lives, and deaths. We had among them +soldiers, clergymen, scientists, but not even one great, celebrated +man, although their talent, their strength almost tore them asunder. + +"'In every one of them the family curse took root: not one of them +could be a great man, neither my father nor yours.' + +"Then I felt as if something horrible was coming from his lips. My +breath almost ceased. Father did not finish what he was going to say, +but stopped and listened for a minute. + +"'I was my father's only hope,' he went on after a while; 'I too was +born talented and prepared for great things, but the Orzos' destiny +overtook me, and you see now what became of me. I looked into the +tower-room. You know what it contains? You know what the name of our +secret is? He who saw this secret lost faith in himself. For him it +would have been better not to have come into this world at all. But I +loved to live and did not want to abandon all my hopes. I married your +mother; she consoled me until you were born, and then I regained my +delight in life. I knew what I had to keep before my eyes to bring up +my son to be such a man as his father could not be. + +"'I acquiesced when you left for the foreign countries; then your +letters came. I made a special study of every sentence and of every +word of it, for I did not want to trust my reason. I thought the first +time that the fault was in me; that I saw unnecessary phantoms. But it +wasn't so, for what I read out of your words was our destiny, the +curse of the Orzos; from the way of your thinking, I found out that +everything is in vain; you too turned your head backward, you too +looked into yourself and noticed there the thing that makes the +perceiver sterile forever. You did not even notice what you have done; +you could not grasp it with your reason, but the poison is already +within you.' + +"'It cannot be, father!' I broke out, terrified. + +"But he sadly shook his head. 'I am old; I cannot believe in anything +now. I wish you were right, and would never come to know what I know. +God bless you, my son; it is getting late, and I am getting tired.' + +"It struck me that he was trying to cover his disbelief with sarcasm. +Both of us were without sleep that night. At dawn there was silence in +his room. I bitterly thought, 'When will I go to rest?' When I went +into his room in the morning he was lying in his bed. All was over. He +had taken poison, and written his farewell on a piece of paper. His +last wish was that no one should ever know under what circumstances he +died." + +Balint left off speaking and gazed with outstretched eyes toward the +window in the darkness. I slowly went to him and put my hand upon his +shoulder. He started at my touch. + +"I more than once thought of the woman who could be the mother of my +son. How many times have I been tempted to fulfill my father's last +wish! But at such a time it has always come to my mind that I too +might have such a son, who would cast into his father's teeth that he +was a coward and a selfish man; that he sacrificed a life for his +illusive hopes. + +"No! I won't do it. I won't do it. I am the last of the Orzos. With me +this damned family will die out. My fathers were cowards and rascals. +I do not want anybody to curse my memory." + +I kissed Balint's wet forehead; I knew that this was the last time I +would see him. The next day I left the castle, and the day after, his +death was made public. He committed suicide, like his father. He was +the last Orzo, and I turned about the coat of arms above his head. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Continental Classics, Volume +XVIII., Mystery Tales, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MYSTERIES *** + +***** This file should be named 12144-8.txt or 12144-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/2/1/4/12144/ + +Produced by Charles Aldarondo, Project Manager; Keith M. Eckrich, +Post-Proofer; the Online Distributed Proofreaders Team + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: + https://www.gutenberg.org/GUTINDEX.ALL + + diff --git a/old/12144-8.zip b/old/12144-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b76ea94 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/12144-8.zip diff --git a/old/12144.txt b/old/12144.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..15c64dd --- /dev/null +++ b/old/12144.txt @@ -0,0 +1,14488 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Continental Classics, Volume XVIII., +Mystery Tales, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Continental Classics, Volume XVIII., Mystery Tales + Including Stories by Feodor Mikhailovitch Dostoyevsky, Joergen Wilhelm + Bergsoee and Bernhard Severin Ingemann, and Others. + + +Author: Various + +Release Date: April 25, 2004 [EBook #12144] +[Date last updated: May 9, 2004] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MYSTERIES *** + + + + +Produced by Charles Aldarondo, Project Manager; Keith M. Eckrich, +Post-Proofer; the Online Distributed Proofreaders Team + + + + + +_THE CONTINENTAL CLASSICS_ + +VOLUME XVIII + +MYSTERY TALES + + +INCLUDING STORIES BY + +FEODOR MIKHAILOVITCH DOSTOYEVSKY + +JOeRGEN WILHELM BERGSOeE AND + +BERNHARD SEVERIN INGEMANN + + + +1909 + + + +_TABLE OF CONTENTS_ + + +RUSSIAN MYSTERY STORIES: + + ALEXANDER SERGEIEVITCH PUSHKIN - The Queen of Spades + + VERA JELIHOVSKY - The General's Will + + FEODOR MIKHAILOVITCH DOSTOYEVSKY - Crime and Punishment + + ANTON CHEKHOFF - The Safety Match + + VSEVOLOD VLADIMIROVITCH KRESTOVSKI - Knights of Industry + + JOeRGEN WILHELM BERGSOeE - The Amputated Arms + + OTTO LARSSEN - The Manuscript + + BERNHARD SEVERIN INGEMANN - The Sealed Room + + STEEN STEENSEN BLICHER - The Rector of Veilbye + + +HUNGARIAN MYSTERY STORIES: + + FERENCZ MOLNAR - The Living Death + + MAURUS JOKAI - Thirteen at Table + + ETIENNE BARSONY - The Dancing Bear + + ARTHUR ELCK - The Tower Room + + + + +_RUSSIAN MYSTERY STORIES_ + + +ALEXANDER SERGEIEVITCH PUSHKIN + + +_THE QUEEN OF SPADES_ + + +I + +There was a card party at the rooms of Naroumoff, of the Horse +Guards. The long winter night passed away imperceptibly, and it +was five o'clock in the morning before the company sat down to +supper. Those who had won ate with a good appetite; the others +sat staring absently at their empty plates. When the champagne +appeared, however, the conversation became more animated, and all +took a part in it. + +"And how did you fare, Souirin?" asked the host. + +"Oh, I lost, as usual. I must confess that I am unlucky. I play +mirandole, I always keep cool, I never allow anything to put me +out, and yet I always lose!" + +"And you did not once allow yourself to be tempted to back the +red? Your firmness astonishes me." + +"But what do you think of Hermann?" said one of the guests, +pointing to a young engineer. "He has never had a card in his +hand in his life, he has never in his life laid a wager; and yet +he sits here till five o'clock in the morning watching our play." + +"Play interests me very much," said Hermann, "but I am not in the +position to sacrifice the necessary in the hope of winning the +superfluous." + +"Hermann is a German; he is economical--that is all!" observed +Tomsky. "But if there is one person that I cannot understand, it +is my grandmother, the Countess Anna Fedorovna!" + +"How so?" inquired the guests. + +"I cannot understand," continued Tomsky, "how it is that my +grandmother does not punt." + +"Then you do not know the reason why?" + +"No, really; I haven't the faintest idea. But let me tell you the +story. You must know that about sixty years ago my grandmother went to +Paris, where she created quite a sensation. People used to run after +her to catch a glimpse of the 'Muscovite Venus.' Richelieu made love +to her, and my grandmother maintains that he almost blew out his +brains in consequence of her cruelty. At that time ladies used to play +at faro. On one occasion at the Court, she lost a very considerable +sum to the Duke of Orleans. On returning home, my grandmother removed +the patches from her face, took off her hoops, informed my grandfather +of her loss at the gaming-table, and ordered him to pay the money. My +deceased grandfather, as far as I remember, was a sort of +house-steward to my grandmother. He dreaded her like fire; but, on +hearing of such a heavy loss, he almost went out of his mind. He +calculated the various sums she had lost, and pointed out to her that +in six months she had spent half a million of francs; that neither +their Moscow nor Saratoff estates were in Paris; and, finally, refused +point-blank to pay the debt. My grandmother gave him a box on the ear +and slept by herself as a sign of her displeasure. The next day she +sent for her husband, hoping that this domestic punishment had +produced an effect upon him, but she found him inflexible. For the +first time in her life she entered into reasonings and explanations +with him, thinking to be able to convince him by pointing out to him +that there are debts and debts, and that there is a great difference +between a prince and a coachmaker. + +"But it was all in vain, my grandfather still remained obdurate. But +the matter did not rest there. My grandmother did not know what to do. +She had shortly before become acquainted with a very remarkable man. +You have heard of Count St. Germain, about whom so many marvelous +stories are told. You know that he represented himself as the +Wandering Jew, as the discoverer of the elixir of life, of the +philosopher's stone, and so forth. Some laughed at him as a charlatan; +but Casnova, in his memoirs, says that he was a spy. But be that as it +may, St. Germain, in spite of the mystery surrounding him, was a very +fascinating person, and was much sought after in the best circles of +society. Even to this day my grandmother retains an affectionate +recollection of him, and becomes quite angry if anyone speaks +disrespectfully of him. My grandmother knew that St. Germain had large +sums of money at his disposal. + +"She resolved to have recourse to him, and she wrote a letter to him +asking him to come to her without delay. The queer old man immediately +waited upon her, and found her overwhelmed with grief. She described +to him in the blackest colors the barbarity of her husband, and ended +by declaring that her whole hope depended upon his friendship and +amiability. + +"St. Germain reflected. + +"'I could advance you the sum you want,' said he, 'but I know that you +would not rest easy until you had paid me back, and I should not like +to bring fresh troubles upon you. But there is another way of getting +out of your difficulty: you can win back your money.' + +"'But, my dear Count,' replied my grandmother, 'I tell you that I +haven't any money left!' + +"'Money is not necessary,' replied St. Germain, 'be pleased to listen +to me.' + +"Then he revealed to her a secret, for which each of us would give a +good deal." + +The young officers listened with increased attention. Tomsky lit his +pipe, puffed away for a moment, and then continued: + +"That same evening my grandmother went to Versailles to the _jeu de la +reine_. The Duke of Orleans kept the bank; my grandmother excused +herself in an offhanded manner for not having yet paid her debt by +inventing some little story, and then began to play against him. She +chose three cards and played them one after the other; all three won +sonika,[1] and my grandmother recovered every farthing that she lost." + +"Mere chance!" said one of the guests. + +"A tale!" observed Hermann. + +"Perhaps they were marked cards!" said a third. + +"I do not think so," replied Tomsky, gravely. + +"What!" said Naroumoff, "you have a grandmother who knows how to hit +upon three lucky cards in succession, and you have never yet succeeded +in getting the secret of it out of her?" + +"That's the deuce of it!" replied Tomsky, "she had four sons, one of +whom was my father; all four were determined gamblers, and yet not to +one of them did she ever reveal her secret, although it would not have +been a bad thing either for them or for me. But this is what I heard +from my uncle, Count Ivan Hitch, and he assured me, on his honor, that +it was true. The late Chaplitsky--the same who died in poverty after +having squandered millions--once lost, in his youth, about three +hundred thousand roubles--to Zoritch, if I remember rightly. He was in +despair. My grandmother, who was always very severe upon the +extravagance of young men, took pity, however, upon Chaplitsky. She +gave him three cards telling him to play them one after the other, at +the same time exacting from him a solemn promise that he would never +play at cards again as long as he lived. Chaplitsky then went to his +victorious opponent, and they began a fresh game. On the first card he +staked fifty thousand roubles, and won sonika; he doubled the stake, +and won again; till at last, by pursuing the same tactics, he won back +more than he had lost." + +"But it is time to go to bed, it is a quarter to six already." And, +indeed, it was already beginning to dawn; the young men emptied their +glasses and then took leave of each other. + + +II + +The old Countess A---- was seated in her dressing-room in front of her +looking-glass. Three waiting maids stood around her. One held a small +pot of rouge, another a box of hairpins, and the third a tall cap with +bright red ribbons. The Countess had no longer the slightest +pretensions to beauty, but she still preserved the habits of her +youth, dressed in strict accordance with the fashion of seventy years +before, and made as long and as careful a toilette as she would have +done sixty years previously. Near the window, at an embroidery frame, +sat a young lady, her ward. + +"Good-morning, grandmamma," said a young officer, entering the room. +"_Bonjour_, Mademoiselle Lise. Grandmamma, I want to ask you +something." + +"What is it, Paul?" + +"I want you to let me introduce one of my friends to you, and to allow +me to bring him to the ball on Friday." + +"Bring him direct to the ball and introduce him to me there. Were you +at B----'s yesterday?" + +"Yes; everything went off very pleasantly, and dancing was kept up +until five o'clock. How charming Eletskaia was!" + +"But, my dear, what is there charming about her? Isn't she like her +grandmother, the Princess Daria Petrovna? By the way, she must be very +old, the Princess Daria Petrovna?" + +"How do you mean, old?" cried Tomsky, thoughtlessly, "she died seven +years ago." + +The young lady raised her head, and made a sign to the young officer. +He then remembered that the old Countess was never to be informed of +the death of her contemporaries, and he bit his lips. But the old +Countess heard the news with the greatest indifference. + +"Dead!" said she, "and I did not know it. We were appointed maids of +honor at the same time, and when we were presented to the Empress--" + +And the Countess for the hundredth time related to her grandson one of +her anecdotes. + +"Come, Paul," said she, when she had finished her story, "help me to +get up. Lizanka,[2] where is my snuffbox?" + +And the Countess with her three maids went behind a screen to finish +her toilette. Tomsky was left alone with the young lady. + +"Who is the gentleman you wish to introduce to the Countess?" asked +Lizaveta Ivanovna in a whisper. + +"Naroumoff. Do you know him?" + +"No. Is he a soldier or a civilian?" + +"A soldier." + +"Is he in the Engineers?" + +"No, in the Cavalry. What made you think that he was in the +Engineers?" + +The young lady smiled, but made no reply. + +"Paul," cried the Countess from behind the screen, "send me some new +novel, only pray don't let it be one of the present day style." + +"What do you mean, grandmother?" + +"That is, a novel, in which the hero strangles neither his father nor +his mother, and in which there are no drowned bodies. I have a great +horror of drowned persons." + +"There are no such novels nowadays. Would you like a Russian one?" + +"Are there any Russian novels? Send me one, my dear, pray send me +one!" + +"Good-by, grandmother. I am in a hurry.... Good-by, Lizaveta Ivanovna. +What made you think that Naroumoff was in the Engineers?" + +And Tomsky left the boudoir. + +Lizaveta Ivanovna was left alone. She laid aside her work, and began +to look out of the window. A few moments afterwards, at a corner house +on the other side of the street, a young officer appeared. A deep +flush covered her cheeks; she took up her work again, and bent her +head down over the frame. At the same moment the Countess returned, +completely dressed. + +"Order the carriage, Lizaveta," said she, "we will go out for a +drive." + +Lizaveta rose from the frame, and began to arrange her work. + +"What is the matter with you, my child, are you deaf?" cried the +Countess. "Order the carriage to be got ready at once." + +"I will do so this moment," replied the young lady, hastening into the +anteroom. + +A servant entered and gave the Countess some books from Prince Paul +Alexandrovitch. + +"Tell him that I am much obliged to him," said the Countess. +"Lizaveta! Lizaveta! where are you running to?" + +"I am going to dress." + +"There is plenty of time, my dear. Sit down here. Open the first +volume and read to me aloud." + +Her companion took the book and read a few lines. + +"Louder," said the Countess. "What is the matter with you, my child? +Have you lost your voice? Wait--Give me that footstool--a little +nearer--that will do!" + +Lizaveta read two more pages. The Countess yawned. + +"Put the book down," said she, "what a lot of nonsense! Send it back +to Prince Paul with my thanks.... But where is the carriage?" + +"The carriage is ready," said Lizaveta, looking out into the street. + +"How is it that you are not dressed?" said the Countess. "I must +always wait for you. It is intolerable, my dear!" + +Liza hastened to her room. She had not been there two minutes before +the Countess began to ring with all her might. The three waiting-maids +came running in at one door, and the valet at another. + +"How is it that you cannot hear me when I ring for you?" said the +Countess. "Tell Lizaveta Ivanovna that I am waiting for her." + +Lizaveta returned with her hat and cloak on. + +"At last you are here!" said the Countess. "But why such an elaborate +toilette? Whom do you intend to captivate? What sort of weather is it? +It seems rather windy." + +"No, your Ladyship, it is very calm," replied the valet. + +"You never think of what you are talking about. Open the window. So it +is; windy and bitterly cold. Unharness the horses, Lizaveta, we won't +go out--there was no need to deck yourself like that." + +"What a life is mine!" thought Lizaveta Ivanovna. + +And, in truth, Lizaveta Ivanovna was a very unfortunate creature. "The +bread of the stranger is bitter," says Dante, "and his staircase hard +to climb." But who can know what the bitterness of dependence is so +well as the poor companion of an old lady of quality? The Countess +A---- had by no means a bad heart, but she was capricious, like a +woman who had been spoiled by the world, as well as being avaricious +and egotistical, like all old people, who have seen their best days, +and whose thoughts are with the past, and not the present. She +participated in all the vanities of the great world, went to balls, +where she sat in a corner, painted and dressed in old-fashioned style, +like a deformed but indispensable ornament of the ballroom; all the +guests on entering approached her and made a profound bow, as if in +accordance with a set ceremony, but after that nobody took any further +notice of her. She received the whole town at her house, and observed +the strictest etiquette, although she could no longer recognize the +faces of people. Her numerous domestics, growing fat and old in her +antechamber and servants' hall, did just as they liked, and vied with +each other in robbing the aged Countess in the most bare-faced manner. +Lizaveta Ivanovna was the martyr of the household. She made tea, and +was reproached with using too much sugar; she read novels aloud to the +Countess, and the faults of the author were visited upon her head; she +accompanied the Countess in her walks, and was held answerable for the +weather or the state of the pavement. A salary was attached to the +post, but she very rarely received it, although she was expected to +dress like everybody else, that is to say, like very few indeed. In +society she played the most pitiable role. Everybody knew her, and +nobody paid her any attention. At balls she danced only when a partner +was wanted, and ladies would only take hold of her arm when it was +necessary to lead her out of the room to attend to their dresses. She +was very self-conscious, and felt her position keenly, and she looked +about her with impatience for a deliverer to come to her rescue; but +the young men, calculating in their giddiness, honored her with but +very little attention, although Lizaveta Ivanovna was a hundred times +prettier than the bare-faced, cold-hearted marriageable girls around +whom they hovered. Many a time did she quietly slink away from the +glittering, but wearisome, drawing-room, to go and cry in her own poor +little room, in which stood a screen, a chest of drawers, a +looking-glass, and a painted bedstead, and where a tallow candle burnt +feebly in a copper candle-stick. + +One morning--this was about two days after the evening party described +at the beginning of this story, and a week previous to the scene at +which we have just assisted--Lizaveta Ivanovna was seated near the +window at her embroidery frame, when, happening to look out into the +street, she caught sight of a young Engineer officer, standing +motionless with his eyes fixed upon her window. She lowered her head, +and went on again with her work. About five minutes afterwards she +looked out again--the young officer was still standing in the same +place. Not being in the habit of coquetting with passing officers, she +did not continue to gaze out into the street, but went on sewing for a +couple of hours, without raising her head. Dinner was announced. She +rose up and began to put her embroidery away, but glancing casually +out of the window, she perceived the officer again. This seemed to her +very strange. After dinner she went to the window with a certain +feeling of uneasiness, but the officer was no longer there--and she +thought no more about him. + +A couple of days afterwards, just as she was stepping into the +carriage with the Countess, she saw him again. He was standing close +behind the door, with his face half-concealed by his fur collar, but +his dark eyes sparkled beneath his cap. Lizaveta felt alarmed, though +she knew not why, and she trembled as she seated herself in the +carriage. + +On returning home, she hastened to the window--the officer was +standing in his accustomed place, with his eyes fixed upon her. She +drew back, a prey to curiosity, and agitated by a feeling which was +quite new to her. + +From that time forward not a day passed without the young officer +making his appearance under the window at the customary hour, and +between him and her there was established a sort of mute acquaintance. +Sitting in her place at work, she used to feel his approach, and, +raising her head, she would look at him longer and longer each day. +The young man seemed to be very grateful to her; she saw with the +sharp eye of youth, how a sudden flush covered his pale cheeks each +time that their glances met. After about a week she commenced to smile +at him.... + +When Tomsky asked permission of his grandmother, the Countess, to +present one of his friends to her, the young girl's heart beat +violently. But hearing that Naroumoff was not an Engineer, she +regretted that by her thoughtless question, she had betrayed her +secret to the volatile Tomsky. + +Hermann was the son of a German who had become a naturalized Russian, +and from whom he had inherited a small capital. Being firmly convinced +of the necessity of preserving his independence, Hermann did not touch +his private income, but lived on his pay, without allowing himself the +slightest luxury. Moreover, he was reserved and ambitious, and his +companions rarely had an opportunity of making merry at the expense of +his extreme parsimony. He had strong passions and an ardent +imagination, but his firmness of disposition preserved him from the +ordinary errors of young men. Thus, though a gamester at heart, he +never touched a card, for he considered his position did not allow +him--as he said--"to risk the necessary in the hope of winning the +superfluous," yet he would sit for nights together at the card table +and follow with feverish anxiety the different turns of the game. + +The story of the three cards had produced a powerful impression upon +his imagination, and all night long he could think of nothing else. +"If," he thought to himself the following evening, as he walked along +the streets of St. Petersburg, "if the old Countess would not reveal +her secret to me! If she would only tell me the names of the three +winning cards. Why should I not try my fortune? I must get introduced +to her and win her favor--become her lover.... But all that will take +time, and she is eighty-seven years old. She might be dead in a week, +in a couple of days even. But the story itself? Can it really be true? +No! Economy, temperance, and industry; those are my three winning +cards; by means of them I shall be able to double my capital--increase +it sevenfold, and procure for myself ease and independence." + +Musing in this manner, he walked on until he found himself in one of +the principal streets of St. Petersburg, in front of a house of +antiquated architecture. The street was blocked with equipages; +carriages one after the other drew up in front of the brilliantly +illuminated doorway. At one moment there stepped out onto the pavement +the well-shaped little foot of some young beauty, at another the heavy +boot of a cavalry officer, and then the silk stockings and shoes of a +member of the diplomatic world. Fur and cloaks passed in rapid +succession before the gigantic porter at the entrance. Hermann +stopped. "Whose house is this?" he asked of the watchman at the +corner. + +"The Countess A----'s," replied the watchman. + +Hermann started. The strange story of the three cards again presented +itself to his imagination. He began walking up and down before the +house, thinking of its owner and her strange secret. Returning late to +his modest lodging, he could not go to sleep for a long time, and when +at last he did doze off, he could dream of nothing but cards, green +tables, piles of banknotes, and heaps of ducats. He played one card +after the other, winning uninterruptedly, and then he gathered up the +gold and filled his pockets with the notes. When he woke up late the +next morning, he sighed over the loss of his imaginary wealth, and +then sallying out into the town, he found himself once more in front +of the Countess's residence. Some unknown power seemed to have +attracted him thither. He stopped and looked up at the windows. At one +of these he saw a head with luxuriant black hair, which was bent down, +probably over some book or an embroidery frame. The head was raised. +Hermann saw a fresh complexion, and a pair of dark eyes. That moment +decided his fate. + + +III + +Lizaveta Ivanovna had scarcely taken off her hat and cloak, when the +Countess sent for her, and again ordered her to get the carriage +ready. The vehicle drew up before the door, and they prepared to take +their seats. Just at the moment when two footmen were assisting the +old lady to enter the carriage, Lizaveta saw her Engineer standing +close beside the wheel; he grasped her hand; alarm caused her to lose +her presence of mind, and the young man disappeared--but not before he +had left a letter between her fingers. She concealed it in her glove, +and during the whole of the drive she neither saw nor heard anything. +It was the custom of the Countess, when out for an airing in her +carriage, to be constantly asking such questions as "Who was that +person that met us just now? What is the name of this bridge? What is +written on that sign-board?" On this occasion, however, Lizaveta +returned such vague and absurd answers, that the Countess became angry +with her. + +"What is the matter with you, my dear?" she exclaimed. "Have you taken +leave of your senses, or what is it? Do you not hear me or understand +what I say? Heaven be thanked, I am still in my right mind and speak +plainly enough!" + +Lizaveta Ivanovna did not hear her. On returning home she ran to her +room, and drew the letter out of her glove: it was not sealed. +Lizaveta read it. The letter contained a declaration of love; it was +tender, respectful, and copied word for word from a German novel. But +Lizaveta did not know anything of the German language, and she was +quite delighted. + +For all that, the letter caused her to feel exceedingly uneasy. For +the first time in her life she was entering into secret and +confidential relations with a young man. His boldness alarmed her. She +reproached herself for her imprudent behavior, and knew not what to +do. Should she cease to sit at the window, and, by assuming an +appearance of indifference towards him, put a check upon the young +officer's desire for further acquaintance with her? Should she send +his letter back to him, or should she answer him in a cold and decided +manner? There was nobody to whom she could turn in her perplexity, for +she had neither female friend nor adviser. At length she resolved to +reply to him. + +She sat down at her little writing table, took pen and paper, and +began to think. Several times she began her letter and then tore it +up; the way she had expressed herself seemed to her either too +inviting or too cold and decisive. At last she succeeded in writing a +few lines with which she felt satisfied. + +"I am convinced," she wrote, "that your intentions are honorable, and +that you do not wish to offend me by any imprudent behavior, but our +acquaintance must not begin in such a manner. I return you your +letter, and I hope that I shall never have any cause to complain of +this undeserved slight." + +The next day, as soon as Hermann made his appearance, Lizaveta rose +from her embroidery, went into the drawing-room, opened the +ventilator, and threw the letter into the street, trusting that the +young officer would have the perception to pick it up. + +Hermann hastened forward, picked it up, and then repaired to a +confectioner's shop. Breaking the seal of the envelope, he found +inside it his own letter and Lizaveta's reply. He had expected this, +and he returned home, his mind deeply occupied with his intrigue. + +Three days afterwards a bright-eyed young girl from a milliner's +establishment brought Lizaveta a letter. Lizaveta opened it with great +uneasiness, fearing that it was a demand for money, when, suddenly, +she recognized Hermann's handwriting. + +"You have made a mistake, my dear," said she. "This letter is not for +me." + +"Oh, yes, it is for you," replied the girl, smiling very knowingly. +"Have the goodness to read it." + +Lizaveta glanced at the letter. Hermann requested an interview. + +"It cannot be," she cried, alarmed at the audacious request and the +manner in which it was made. "This letter is certainly not for me," +and she tore it into fragments. + +"If the letter was not for you, why have you torn it up?" said the +girl. "I should have given it back to the person who sent it." + +"Be good enough, my dear," said Lizaveta, disconcerted by this remark, +"not to bring me any more letters for the future, and tell the person +who sent you that he ought to be ashamed." + +But Hermann was not the man to be thus put off. Every day Lizaveta +received from him a letter, sent now in this way, now in that. They +were no longer translated from the German. Hermann wrote them under +the inspiration of passion, and spoke in his own language, and they +bore full testimony to the inflexibility of his desire, and the +disordered condition of his uncontrollable imagination. Lizaveta no +longer thought of sending them back to him; she became intoxicated +with them, and began to reply to them, and little by little her +answers became longer and more affectionate. At last she threw out of +the window to him the following letter: + +"This evening there is going to be a ball at the Embassy. The Countess +will be there. We shall remain until two o'clock. You have now an +opportunity of seeing me alone. As soon as the Countess is gone, the +servants will very probably go out, and there will be nobody left but +the Swiss, but he usually goes to sleep in his lodge. Come about +half-past eleven. Walk straight upstairs. If you meet anybody in the +anteroom, ask if the Countess is at home. You will be told 'No,' in +which case there will be nothing left for you to do but to go away +again. But it is most probable that you will meet nobody. The +maidservants will all be together in one room. On leaving the +anteroom, turn to the left, and walk straight on until you reach the +Countess's bedroom. In the bedroom, behind a screen, you will find two +doors: the one on the right leads to a cabinet, which the Countess +never enters; the one on the left leads to a corridor, at the end of +which is a little winding staircase; this leads to my room." + +Hermann trembled like a tiger as he waited for the appointed time to +arrive. At ten o'clock in the evening he was already in front of the +Countess's house. The weather was terrible; the wind blew with great +violence, the sleety snow fell in large flakes, the lamps emitted a +feeble light, the streets were deserted; from time to time a sledge +drawn by a sorry-looking hack, passed by on the lookout for a belated +passenger. Hermann was enveloped in a thick overcoat, and felt neither +wind nor snow. + +At last the Countess's carriage drew up. Hermann saw two footmen carry +out in their arms the bent form of the old lady, wrapped in sable fur, +and immediately behind her, clad in a warm mantle, and with her head +ornamented with a wreath of fresh flowers, followed Lizaveta. The door +was closed. The carriage rolled heavily away through the yielding +snow. The porter shut the street door, the windows became dark. + +Hermann began walking up and down near the deserted house; at length +he stopped under a lamp, and glanced at his watch: it was twenty +minutes past eleven. He remained standing under the lamp, his eyes +fixed upon the watch impatiently waiting for the remaining minutes to +pass. At half-past eleven precisely Hermann ascended the steps of the +house and made his way into the brightly-illuminated vestibule. The +porter was not there. Hermann hastily ascended the staircase, opened +the door of the anteroom, and saw a footman sitting asleep in an +antique chair by the side of a lamp. With a light, firm step Hermann +passed by him. The drawing-room and dining-room were in darkness, but +a feeble reflection penetrated thither from the lamp in the anteroom. + +Hermann reached the Countess's bedroom. Before a shrine, which was +full of old images, a golden lamp was burning. Faded stuffed chairs +and divans with soft cushions stood in melancholy symmetry around the +room, the walls of which were hung with china silk. On one side of the +room hung two portraits painted in Paris by Madame Lebrun. One of +these represented a stout, red-faced man of about forty years of age, +in a bright green uniform, and with a star upon his breast; the +other--a beautiful young woman, with an aquiline nose, forehead curls, +and a rose in her powdered hair. In the corner stood porcelain +shepherds and shepherdesses, dining-room clocks from the workshop of +the celebrated Lefroy, bandboxes, roulettes, fans, and the various +playthings for the amusement of ladies that were in vogue at the end +of the last century, when Montgolfier's balloons and Niesber's +magnetism were the rage. Hermann stepped behind the screen. At the +back of it stood a little iron bedstead; on the right was the door +which led to the cabinet; on the left, the other which led to the +corridor. He opened the latter, and saw the little winding staircase +which led to the room of the poor companion. But he retraced his steps +and entered the dark cabinet. + +The time passed slowly. All was still. The clock in the drawing-room +struck twelve, the strokes echoed through the room one after the +other, and everything was quiet again. Hermann stood leaning against +the cold stove. He was calm, his heart beat regularly, like that of a +man resolved upon a dangerous but inevitable undertaking. One o'clock +in the morning struck; then two, and he heard the distant noise of +carriage-wheels. An involuntary agitation took possession of him. The +carriage drew near and stopped. He heard the sound of the carriage +steps being let down. All was bustle within the house. The servants +were running hither and thither, there was a confusion of voices, and +the rooms were lit up. Three antiquated chambermaids entered the +bedroom, and they were shortly afterwards followed by the Countess, +who, more dead than alive, sank into a Voltaire armchair. Hermann +peeped through a chink. Lizaveta Ivanovna passed close by him, and he +heard her hurried steps as she hastened up the little spiral +staircase. For a moment his heart was assailed by something like a +pricking of conscience, but the emotion was only transitory, and his +heart became petrified as before. + +The Countess began to undress before her looking-glass. Her +rose-bedecked cap was taken off, and then her powdered wig was removed +from off her white and closely cut hair. Hairpins fell in showers +around her. Her yellow satin dress, brocaded with silver, fell down at +her swollen feet. + +Hermann was a witness of the repugnant mysteries of her toilette; at +last the Countess was in her night-cap and dressing-gown, and in this +costume, more suitable to her age, she appeared less hideous and +deformed. + +Like all old people, in general, the Countess suffered from +sleeplessness. Having undressed, she seated herself at the window in a +Voltaire armchair, and dismissed her maids. The candles were taken +away, and once more the room was left with only one lamp burning in +it. The Countess sat there looking quite yellow, mumbling with her +flaccid lips and swaying to and fro. Her dull eyes expressed complete +vacancy of mind, and, looking at her, one would have thought that the +rocking of her body was not a voluntary action of her own, but was +produced by the action of some concealed galvanic mechanism. + +Suddenly the death-like face assumed an inexplicable expression. The +lips ceased to tremble, the eyes became animated: before the Countess +stood an unknown man. + +"Do not be alarmed, for Heaven's sake, do not be alarmed!" said he in +a low but distinct voice. "I have no intention of doing you any harm; +I have only come to ask a favor of you." + +The old woman looked at him in silence, as if she had not heard what +he had said. Hermann thought that she was deaf, and, bending down +towards her ear, he repeated what he had said. The aged Countess +remained silent as before. + +"You can insure the happiness of my life," continued Hermann, "and it +will cost you nothing. I know that you can name three cards in +order--" + +Hermann stopped. The Countess appeared now to understand what he +wanted; she seemed as if seeking for words to reply. + +"It was a joke," she replied at last. "I assure you it was only a +joke." + +"There is no joking about the matter," replied Hermann, angrily. +"Remember Chaplitsky, whom you helped to win." + +The Countess became visibly uneasy. Her features expressed strong +emotion, but they quickly resumed their former immobility. + +"Can you not name me these three winning cards?" continued Hermann. + +The Countess remained silent; Hermann continued: + +"For whom are you preserving your secret? For your grandsons? They are +rich enough without it, they do not know the worth of money. Your +cards would be of no use to a spendthrift. He who cannot preserve his +paternal inheritance will die in want, even though he had a demon at +his service. I am not a man of that sort. I know the value of money. +Your three cards will not be thrown away upon me. Come!" + +He paused and tremblingly awaited her reply. The Countess remained +silent. Hermann fell upon his knees. + +"If your heart has ever known the feeling of love," said he, "if you +remember its rapture, if you have ever smiled at the cry of your +new-born child, if any human feeling has ever entered into your +breast, I entreat you by the feelings of a wife, a lover, a mother, by +all that is most sacred in life, not to reject my prayer. Reveal to me +your secret. Of what use is it to you? May be it is connected with +some terrible sin, with the loss of eternal salvation, with some +bargain with the devil. Reflect, you are old, you have not long to +live--I am ready to take your sins upon my soul. Only reveal to me +your secret. Remember that the happiness of a man is in your hands, +that not only I, but my children and my grandchildren, will bless your +memory and reverence you as a saint." + +The old Countess answered not a word. + +Hermann rose to his feet. + +"You old hag!" he exclaimed, grinding his teeth, "then I will make you +answer!" With these words he drew a pistol from his pocket. At the +sight of the pistol, the Countess for the second time exhibited strong +emotions. She shook her head, and raised her hands as if to protect +herself from the shot. Then she fell backwards, and remained +motionless. + +"Come, an end to this childish nonsense!" said Hermann, taking hold of +her hand. "I ask you for the last time: will you tell me the names of +your three cards, or will you not?" + +The Countess made no reply. Hermann perceived that she was dead! + + +IV + +Lizaveta Ivanovna was sitting in her room, still in her ball dress, +lost in deep thought. On returning home, she had hastily dismissed the +chambermaid, who very reluctantly came forward to assist her, saying +that she would undress herself, and with a trembling heart had gone up +to her own room, expecting to find Hermann there, but yet hoping not +to find him. At the first glance he was not there, and she thanked her +fate for having prevented him keeping the appointment. She sat down +without undressing, and began to call to mind all the circumstances +which in a short time had carried her so far. It was not three weeks +since the time when she had first seen the young officer from the +window--and yet she was already in correspondence with him, and he had +succeeded in inducing her to grant him a nocturnal interview. She knew +his name only through his having written it at the bottom of some of +his letters; she had never spoken to him, had never heard his voice, +and had never heard him spoken of until that evening. But, strange to +say, that very evening at the ball, Tomsky, being piqued with the +young Princess Pauline N----, who, contrary to her usual custom, did +not flirt with him, wished to revenge himself by assuming an air of +indifference: he therefore engaged Lizaveta Ivanovna, and danced an +endless mazurka with her. During the whole of the time he kept teasing +her about her partiality for Engineer officers, he assured her that he +knew far more than she imagined, and some of his jests were so happily +aimed, that Lizaveta thought several times that her secret was known +to him. + +"From whom have you learned all this?" she asked, smiling. + +"From a friend of a person very well known to you," replied Tomsky, +"from a very distinguished man." + +"And whom is this distinguished man?" + +"His name is Hermann." Lizaveta made no reply, but her hands and feet +lost all sense of feeling. + +"This Hermann," continued Tomsky, "is a man of romantic personality. +He has the profile of a Napoleon, and the soul of a Mephistopheles. I +believe that he has at least three crimes upon his conscience. How +pale you have become!" + +"I have a headache. But what did this Hermann, or whatever his name +is, tell you?" + +"Hermann is very dissatisfied with his friend. He says that in his +place he would act very differently. I even think that Hermann himself +has designs upon you; at least, he listens very attentively to all +that his friend has to say about you." + +"And where has he seen me?" + +"In church, perhaps; or on the parade. God alone knows where. It may +have been in your room, while you were asleep, for there is nothing +that he--" + +Three ladies approaching him with the question: "oubli ou regret?" +interrupted the conversation, which had become so tantalizingly +interesting to Lizaveta. + +The lady chosen by Tomsky was the Princess Pauline herself. She +succeeded in effecting a reconciliation with him during the numerous +turns of the dance, after which he conducted her to her chair. On +returning to his place, Tomsky thought no more either of Hermann or +Lizaveta. She longed to renew the interrupted conversation, but the +mazurka came to an end, and shortly afterwards the old Countess took +her departure. + +Tomsky's words were nothing more than the customary small talk of the +dance, but they sank deep into the soul of the young dreamer. The +portrait, sketched by Tomsky, coincided with the picture she had +formed within her own mind, and, thanks to the latest romances, the +ordinary countenance of her admirer became invested with attributes +capable of alarming her and fascinating her imagination at the same +time. She was now sitting with her bare arms crossed, and with her +head, still adorned with flowers, sunk upon her uncovered bosom. +Suddenly the door opened and Hermann entered. She shuddered. + +"Where were you?" she asked in a terrified whisper. + +"In the old Countess's bedroom," replied Hermann. "I have just left +her. The Countess is dead." + +"My God! What do you say?" + +"And I am afraid," added Hermann, "that I am the cause of her death." + +Lizaveta looked at him, and Tomsky's words found an echo in her soul: +"This man has at least three crimes upon his conscience!" Hermann sat +down by the window near her, and related all that had happened. + +Lizaveta listened to him in terror. So all those passionate letters, +those ardent desires, this bold, obstinate pursuit--all this was not +love! Money--that was what his soul yearned for! She could not satisfy +his desire and make him happy. The poor girl had been nothing but the +blind tool of a robber, of the murderer of her aged benefactress! She +wept bitter tears of agonized repentance. Hermann gazed at her in +silence; his heart, too, was a prey to violent emotion, but neither +the tears of the poor girl, nor the wonderful charm of her beauty, +enhanced by her grief, could produce any impression upon his hardened +soul. He felt no pricking of conscience at the thought of the dead old +woman. One thing only grieved him: the irreparable loss of the secret +from which he had expected to obtain great wealth. + +"You are a monster!" said Lizaveta at last. + +"I did not wish for her death," replied Hermann, "my pistol was not +loaded." Both remained silent. The day began to dawn. Lizaveta +extinguished her candle, a pale light illumined her room. She wiped +her tear-stained eyes, and raised them towards Hermann. He was sitting +near the window, with his arms crossed, and with a fierce frown upon +his forehead. In this attitude he bore a striking resemblance to the +portrait of Napoleon. This resemblance struck Lizaveta even. + +"How shall I get you out of the house?" said she at last. "I thought +of conducting you down the secret staircase." + +"I will go alone," he answered. + +Lizaveta arose, took from her drawer a key, handed it to Hermann, and +gave him the necessary instructions. Hermann pressed her cold, inert +hand, kissed her bowed head, and left the room. + +He descended the winding staircase, and once more entered the +Countess's bedroom. The dead old lady sat as if petrified, her face +expressed profound tranquillity. Hermann stopped before her, and gazed +long and earnestly at her, as if he wished to convince himself of the +terrible reality. At last he entered the cabinet, felt behind the +tapestry for the door, and then began to descend the dark staircase, +filled with strange emotions. "Down this very staircase," thought he, +"perhaps coming from the very same room, and at this very same hour +sixty years ago, there may have glided, in an embroidered coat, with +his hair dressed _a l'oiseau royal_, and pressing to his heart his +three-cornered hat, some young gallant who has long been mouldering in +the grave, but the heart of his aged mistress has only today ceased to +beat." + +At the bottom of the staircase Hermann found a door, which he opened +with a key, and then traversed a corridor which conducted him into the +street. + + +V + +Three days after the fatal night, at nine o'clock in the morning, +Hermann repaired to the Convent of ----, where the last honors were to +be paid to the mortal remains of the old Countess. Although feeling no +remorse, he could not altogether stifle the voice of conscience, which +said to him: "You are the murderer of the old woman!" In spite of his +entertaining very little religious belief, he was exceedingly +superstitious; and believing that the dead Countess might exercise an +evil influence on his life, he resolved to be present at her obsequies +in order to implore her pardon. + +The church was full. It was with difficulty that Hermann made his way +through the crowd of people. The coffin was placed upon a rich +catafalque beneath a velvet baldachin. The deceased Countess lay +within it, with her hands crossed upon her breast, with a lace cap +upon her head, and dressed in a white satin robe. Around the +catafalque stood the members of her household; the servants in black +caftans, with armorial ribbons upon their shoulders and candles in +their hands; the relatives--children, grandchildren, and +great-grandchildren--in deep mourning. + +Nobody wept, tears would have been an affectation. The Countess was so +old that her death could have surprised nobody, and her relatives had +long looked upon her as being out of the world. A famous preacher +delivered the funeral sermon. In simple and touching words he +described the peaceful passing away of the righteous, who had passed +long years in calm preparation for a Christian end. "The angel of +death found her," said the orator, "engaged in pious meditation and +waiting for the midnight bridegroom." + +The service concluded amidst profound silence. The relatives went +forward first to take a farewell of the corpse. Then followed the +numerous guests, who had come to render the last homage to her who for +so many years had been a participator in their frivolous amusements. +After these followed the members of the Countess's household. The last +of these an old woman of the same age as the deceased. Two young women +led her forward by the hand. She had not strength enough to bow down +to the ground--she merely shed a few tears, and kissed the cold hand +of the mistress. + +Herman now resolved to approach the coffin. He knelt down upon the +cold stones, and remained in that position for some minutes; at last +he arose as pale as the deceased Countess herself; he ascended the +steps of the catafalque and bent over the corpse.... At that moment it +seemed to him that the dead woman darted a mocking look at him and +winked with one eye. Hermann started back, took a false step, and fell +to the ground. Several persons hurried forward and raised him up. At +the same moment Lizaveta Ivanovna was borne fainting into the porch of +the church. This episode disturbed for some minutes the solemnity of +the gloomy ceremony. Among the congregation arose a deep murmur, and a +tall, thin chamberlain, a near relative of the deceased, whispered in +the ear of an Englishman, who was standing near him, that the young +officer was a natural son of the Countess, to which the Englishman +coldly replied "Oh!" + +During the whole of that day Hermann was strangely excited. Repairing +to an out of the way restaurant to dine, he drank a great deal of +wine, contrary to his usual custom, in the hope of deadening his +inward agitation. But the wine only served to excite his imagination +still more. On returning home he threw himself upon his bed without +undressing, and fell into a deep sleep. + +When he woke up it was already night, and the moon was shining into +the room. He looked at his watch: it was a quarter to three. Sleep had +left him; he sat down upon his bed, and thought of the funeral of the +old Countess. + +At that moment somebody in the street looked in at his window and +immediately passed on again. Hermann paid no attention to this +incident. A few moments afterwards he heard the door of his anteroom +open. Hermann thought that it was his orderly, drunk as usual, +returning from some nocturnal expedition, but presently he heard +footsteps that were unknown to him: somebody was walking softly over +the floor in slippers. The door opened, and a woman dressed in white +entered the room. Hermann mistook her for his old nurse, and wondered +what could bring her there at that hour of the night. But the white +woman glided rapidly across the room and stood before him--and Hermann +thought he recognized the Countess. + +"I have come to you against my wish," she said in a firm voice, "but I +have been ordered to grant your request. Three, seven, ace, will win +for you if played in succession, but only on these conditions: that +you do not play more than one card in twenty-four-hours, and that you +never play again during the rest of your life. I forgive you my death, +on condition that you marry my companion, Lizaveta Ivanovna." + +With these words she turned round very quietly, walked with a +shuffling gait towards the door, and disappeared. Hermann heard the +street door open and shut, and again he saw someone look in at him +through the window. + +For a long time Hermann could not recover himself. He then rose up and +entered the next room. His orderly was lying asleep upon the floor, +and he had much difficulty in waking him. The orderly was drunk as +usual, and no information could be obtained from him. The street door +was locked. Hermann returned to his room, lit his candle, and wrote +down all the details of his vision. + + +VI + +Two fixed ideas can no more exist together in the moral world than two +bodies can occupy one and the same physical world. "Three, seven, ace" +soon drove out of Hermann's mind the thought of the dead Countess. +"Three, seven, ace" were perpetually running through his head, and +continually being repeated by his lips. If he saw a young girl, he +would say: "How slender she is; quite like the three of hearts." If +anybody asked "What is the time?" he would reply: "Five minutes to +seven." Every stout man that he saw reminded him of the ace. "Three, +seven, ace" haunted him in his sleep, and assumed all possible shapes. +The threes bloomed before him in the forms of magnificent flowers, the +sevens were represented by Gothic portals, and the aces became +transformed into gigantic spiders. One thought alone occupied his +whole mind--to make a profitable use of the secret which he had +purchased so dearly. He thought of applying for a furlough so as to +travel abroad. He wanted to go to Paris and tempt fortune in some +gambling houses that abounded there. Chance spared him all this +trouble. + +There was in Moscow a society of rich gamesters, presided over by the +celebrated Chekalinsky, who had passed all his life at the card table, +and had amassed millions, accepting bills of exchange for his +winnings, and paying his losses in ready money. His long experience +secured for him the confidence of his companions, and his open house, +his famous cook, and his agreeable and fascinating manners, gained for +him the respect of the public. He came to St. Petersburg. The young +men of the capital flocked to his rooms, forgetting balls for cards, +and preferring the emotions of faro to the seductions of flirting. +Naroumoff conducted Hermann to Chekalinsky's residence. + +They passed through a suite of rooms, filled with attentive domestics. +The place was crowded. Generals and Privy Counsellors were playing at +whist, young men were lolling carelessly upon the velvet-covered +sofas, eating ices and smoking pipes. In the drawing-room, at the head +of a long table, around which were assembled about a score of players, +sat the master of the house keeping the bank. He was a man of about +sixty years of age, of a very dignified appearance; his head was +covered with silvery white hair; his full, florid countenance +expressed good-nature, and his eyes twinkled with a perpetual smile. +Naroumoff introduced Hermann to him. Chekalinsky shook him by the hand +in a friendly manner, requested him not to stand on ceremony, and then +went on dealing. + +The game occupied some time. On the table lay more than thirty cards. +Chekalinsky paused after each throw, in order to give the players time +to arrange their cards and note down their losses, listened politely +to their requests, and more politely still, straightened the corners +of cards that some player's hand had chanced to bend. At last the game +was finished. Chekalinsky shuffled the cards, and prepared to deal +again. + +"Will you allow me to take a card?" said Hermann, stretching out his +hand from behind a stout gentleman who was punting. + +Chekalinsky smiled and bowed silently, as a sign of acquiescence. +Naroumoff laughingly congratulated Hermann on his abjuration of that +abstention from cards which he had practised for so long a period, and +wished him a lucky beginning. + +"Stake!" said Hermann, writing some figures with chalk on the back of +his card. + +"How much?" asked the banker, contracting the muscles of his eyes, +"excuse me, I cannot see quite clearly." + +"Forty-seven thousand roubles," replied Hermann. At these words every +head in the room turned suddenly round, and all eyes were fixed upon +Hermann. + +"He has taken leave of his senses!" thought Naroumoff. + +"Allow me to inform you," said Chekalinsky, with his eternal smile, +"that you are playing very high; nobody here has ever staked more than +two hundred and seventy-five roubles at once." + +"Very well," replied Hermann, "but do you accept my card or not?" + +Chekalinsky bowed in token of consent. + +"I only wish to observe," said he, "that although I have the greatest +confidence in my friends, I can only play against ready money. For my +own part I am quite convinced that your word is sufficient, but for +the sake of the order of the game, and to facilitate the reckoning up, +I must ask you to put the money on your card." + +Hermann drew from his pocket a bank-note, and handed it to +Chekalinsky, who, after examining it in a cursory manner, placed it on +Hermann's card. + +He began to deal. On the right a nine turned up, and on the left a +three. + +"I have won!" said Hermann, showing his card. + +A murmur of astonishment arose among the players. Chekalinsky frowned, +but the smile quickly returned to his face. "Do you wish me to settle +with you?" he said to Hermann. + +"If you please," replied the latter. + +Chekalinsky drew from his pocket a number of banknotes and paid at +once. Hermann took up his money and left the table. Naroumoff could +not recover from his astonishment. Hermann drank a glass of lemonade +and returned home. + +The next evening he again repaired to Chekalinsky's. The host was +dealing. Hermann walked up to the table; the punters immediately made +room for him. Chekalinsky greeted him with a gracious bow. + +Hermann waited for the next deal, took a card and placed upon it his +forty-seven thousand roubles, together with his winnings of the +previous evening. + +Chekalinsky began to deal. A knave turned up on the right, a seven on +the left. + +Hermann showed his seven. + +There was a general exclamation. Chekalinsky was evidently ill at +ease, but he counted out the ninety-four thousand roubles and handed +them over to Hermann, who pocketed them in the coolest manner +possible, and immediately left the house. + +The next evening Hermann appeared again at the table. Everyone was +expecting him. The generals and privy counsellors left their whist in +order to watch such extraordinary play. The young officers quitted +their sofas, and even the servants crowded into the room. All pressed +round Hermann. The other players left off punting, impatient to see +how it would end. Hermann stood at the table, and prepared to play +alone against the pale, but still smiling Chekalinsky. Each opened a +pack of cards. Chekalinsky shuffled. Hermann took a card and covered +it with a pile of bank-notes. It was like a duel. Deep silence reigned +around. + +Chekalinsky began to deal, his hands trembled. On the right a queen +turned up, and on the left an ace. + +"Ace has won!" cried Hermann, showing his card. + +"Your queen has lost," said Chekalinsky, politely. + +Hermann started; instead of an ace, there lay before him the queen of +spades! He could not believe his eyes, nor could he understand how he +had made such a mistake. + +At that moment it seemed to him that the queen of spades smiled +ironically, and winked her eye at him. He was struck by her remarkable +resemblance.... + +"The old Countess!" he exclaimed, seized with terror. Chekalinsky +gathered up his winnings. For some time Hermann remained perfectly +motionless. When at last he left the table, there was a general +commotion in the room. + +"Splendidly punted!" said the players. Chekalinsky shuffled the cards +afresh, and the game went on as usual. + + * * * * * + +Hermann went out of his mind, and is now confined in room number +seventeen of the Oboukhoff Hospital. He never answers any questions, +but he constantly mutters with unusual rapidity: "Three, seven, ace! +Three, seven, queen!" + +Lizaveta Ivanovna has married a very amiable young man, a son of the +former steward of the old Countess. He is in the service of the State +somewhere, and is in receipt of a good income. Lizaveta is also +supporting a poor relative. + +Tomsky has been promoted to the rank of captain, and has become the +husband of the Princess Pauline. + + +FOOTNOTES OF _THE QUEEN OF SPADES_: + +[1: Said of a card when it wins or loses in the quickest possible +time.] + +[2: Diminutive of Lizaveta (Elizabeth).] + + + +VERA JELIHOVSKY + + +_THE GENERAL'S WILL_ + + +I + +It happened in winter, just before the holidays. Ivan Feodorovitch +Lobnitchenko, the lawyer, whose office is in one of the main streets +of St. Petersburg, was called hurriedly to witness the last will and +testament of one at the point of death. The sick man was not strictly +a client of Ivan Feodorovitch; under other circumstances, he might +have refused to make this late call, after a day's heavy toil ... but +the dying man was an aristocrat and a millionaire, and such as he meet +no refusals, whether in life, or, much more, at the moment of death. + +Lobnitchenko, taking a secretary and everything necessary, with a sigh +scratched himself behind the ear, and thrusting aside the thought of +the delightful evening at cards that awaited him, set out to go to the +sick man. + +General Iuri Pavlovitch Nasimoff was far gone. Even the most +compassionate doctors did not give him many days to live, when he +finally decided to destroy the will which he had made long ago, not in +St. Petersburg, but in the provincial city where he had played the +Tsar for so many years. The general had come to the capital for a +time, and had lain down--to rise no more. + +This was the opinion of the physicians, and of most of those about +him; the sick man himself was unwilling to admit it. He was a +stalwart-hearted and until recently a stalwart-bodied old man, tall, +striking, with an energetic face, and a piercing, masterful glance, +hard to forget, even if you saw him only once. + +He was lying on the sofa, in a richly furnished hotel suite, +consisting of three of the best rooms. He received the lawyer gayly +enough. He himself explained the circumstances to him, though every +now and then compelled to stop by a paroxysm of pain, with difficulty +repressing the groans which almost escaped him, in spite of all his +efforts. During these heavy moments, Ivan Feodorovitch raised his eyes +buried in fat to the sick man's face, and his plump little features +were convulsed in sympathy with the sufferer's pain. As soon as the +courageous old man, fighting hard with the paroxysms of pain, had got +the better of them, taking his hands from his contorted face, and +drawing a painful breath, he began anew to explain his will. +Lobnitchenko dropped his eyes again and became all attention. + +The general explained in detail to the lawyer. He had been married +twice, and had three children, a son and a daughter from his first +marriage, who had long ago reached adultship, and a nine-year-old +daughter from his second marriage. His second wife and daughter he +expected every day; they were abroad, but would soon return. His elder +daughter would also probably come. + +The lawyer was not acquainted with Nazimoff's family; indeed he had +never before seen the general, though, like all Russia, he knew of him +by repute. But judging from the tone of contempt or of pity with which +he spoke of his second wife or her daughter, the lawyer guessed at +once that the general's home life was not happy. The further +explanations of the sick man convinced him of this. A new will was to +be drawn up, directly contrary to the will signed six years before, +which bequeathed to his second wife, Olga Vseslavovna, unlimited +authority over their little daughter, and her husband's entire +property. In the first will he had left nearly everything, with the +exception of the family estate, which he did not feel justified in +taking from his son, to his second wife and her daughter. Now he +wished to restore to his elder children the rights which he had +deprived them of, and especially to his eldest daughter, Anna Iurievna +Borissova, who was not even mentioned in the first will. In the new +will, with the exception of the seventh part, the widow's share, he +divided the whole of his land and capital between his children +equally; and he further appointed a strict guardianship over the +property of his little daughter, Olga Iurievna. + +The will was duly arranged, drawn up and witnessed, and after the +three witnesses had signed it, it was left, by the general's wish, in +his own keeping. + +"I will send it to you to take care of," he said to the lawyer. "It +will be safer in your hands than here, in my temporary quarters. But +first I wish to read it to my wife, and ... to my eldest daughter ... +if she arrives in time." + +The lawyer and the priest, who was one of the witnesses, were already +preparing to take leave of the general, when voices and steps were +heard in the corridor; a footman's head appeared through the door, +calling the doctor hurriedly forth. It appeared that the general's +lady had arrived suddenly, without letting anyone know by telegram +that she was coming. + +The doctor hastily slipped out of the room; he feared the result of +emotion on the sick man, and wished to warn the general's wife of his +grave danger, but the sick man noticed the move, and it was impossible +to guard him against disturbance. + +"What is going on there?" he asked. "What are you mumbling about, +Edouard Vicentevitch? Tell me what is the matter? Is it my daughter?" + +"Your excellency, I beg of you to take care of yourself!" the doctor +was beginning, evidently quite familiar with the general's family +affairs, and therefore dreading the meeting of husband and wife. "It +is not Anna Iurievna...." + +"Aha!" the sick man interrupted him; "she has come? Very well. Let her +come in. Only the little one ... I don't wish her to come ... to-day." + +Suffering was visible in his eyes, this time not bodily suffering. + +The door opened, with the rustling of a silk dress. A tall, +well-developed, and decidedly handsome woman appeared on the +threshold. She glanced at the pain-stricken face, which smiled +contemptuously toward her. In a moment she was beside the general, +kneeling beside him on the carpet, bending close to him, and pressing +his hand, as she repeated in a despairing whisper: + +"Oh, Georges! Georges! Is it really you, my poor friend?" + +It would be hard to define the expression of rapidly changing emotions +which passed over the sick man's face, which made his breast heave, +and his great heart quiver and tremble painfully. Displeasure and +pity, sympathy and contempt, anger and grief, all were expressed in +the short, sharp, bitter laugh, and the few words which escaped his +lips when he saw his little daughter timidly following her mother into +his room. + +"Do not teach her to lie!" and he nodded toward the child, and turned +toward the wall, with an expression of pain and pity on his face. The +lawyer and the priest hastened to take their leave and disappear. + +"Ah! Sinners! sinners!" muttered the latter, as he descended the +stairs. + +"Things are not in good shape between them?" asked Lobnitchenko. "They +don't get on well together?" + +"How should they be in good shape, when he came here to get a +divorce?" whispered the priest, shaping his fur cap. "But God decided +otherwise. Even without a divorce, he will be separated forever from +his wife!" + +"I don't believe he is so very far gone. He is a stalwart old man. +Perhaps he will pull through," went on the man of law. + +"God's hand is over all," answered the priest, shrugging his +shoulders. And so they went their different ways. + + +II + +"Olga!" cried the sick man, without turning round, and feeling near +him the swift movement of his wife, he pushed her away with an +impatient movement of his hand, and added, "Not you! my daughter +Olga!" + +"Olga! Go, my child, papa is calling you," cried the general's wife in +a soft voice, in French, to the little girl, who was standing +undecidedly in the center of the room. + +"Can you not drop your foreign phrases?" angrily interrupted the +general. "This is not a drawing-room! You might drop it, from a sense +of decency." + +His voice became shrill, and made the child shudder and begin to cry. +She went to him timidly. + +The general looked at her with an expression of pain. He drew her +toward him with his left hand, raising the right to bless her. + +"In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit!" he +whispered, making the sign of the cross over her. "God guard you from +evil, from every bad influence.... Be kind ... honest ... most of all, +be honest! Never tell lies. God guard you from falsehood, from lying, +even more than from sorrow!" + +Tears filled the dying man's eyes. Little Olga shuddered from head to +foot; she feared her father, and at the same time was so sorry for +him. But pity got the upper hand. She clung to him, wetting him with +her tears. Her father raised his hand, wishing to make the sign of the +cross once more over the little head which lay on his breast, but +could not complete the gesture. His hand fell heavily, his face was +once more contorted with pain; he turned to those who stood near him, +evidently avoiding meeting his wife's eyes, and whispered: + +"Take her away. It is enough. Christ be with her!" And for a moment he +collected strength to place his hand on the child's head. + +The doctor took the little girl by the hand, but her mother moved +quickly toward her. + +"Kiss him! Kiss papa's hand!" she whispered, "bid him good-by!" + +The general's wife sobbed, and covered her face with her handkerchief, +with the grand gesture of a stage queen. The sick man did not see +this. At the sound of her voice he frowned and closed his eyes tight, +evidently trying not to listen. The doctor led the little girl away to +another room and gave her to her governess. + +When he came back to the sick man the general, lying on the sofa, +still in the same position, and without looking at his wife who stood +beside his pillow, said to her: + +"I expect my poor daughter Anna, who has suffered so much injustice +through you.... I have asked her to forgive me. I shall pray her to be +a mother to her little sister.... I have appointed her the child's +guardian. She is good and honest ... she will teach the child no evil. +And this will be best for you also. You are provided for. You will +find out from the new will. You could not have had any profit from +being her guardian. If Anna does not consent to take little Olga to +live with her, and to educate her with her own children, as I have +asked her, Olga will be sent to a school. You will prefer liberty to +your daughter; it will be pleasanter for you. Is it not so?" + +Contempt and bitter irony were perceptible in his voice. His wife did +not utter a syllable. She remained so quiet that it might have been +thought she did not even hear him, but for the convulsive movement of +her lips, and of the fingers of her tightly clasped hands. + +The doctor once more made a movement to withdraw discreetly, but the +general's voice stopped him. "Edouard Vicentevitch? Is he here?" + +"I am here, your excellency," answered the doctor, bending over the +sick man. "Would not your excellency prefer to be carried to the bed? +It will be more comfortable lying down." + +"More comfortable to die?" sharply interrupted the general. "Why do +you drivel? You know I detest beds and blankets. Drop it! Here, take +this," and he gave him a sheet of crested paper folded in four, which +was lying beside him. "Read it, please. Aloud! so that she may know." + +He turned his eyes toward his wife. The doctor unwillingly began his +unpleasant task. He was a man of fine feeling, and although he had no +very high opinion of the general's wife, still she was a woman. And a +beautiful woman. He would have preferred that she should learn from +someone else how many of the pleasures of life were slipping away from +her, in virtue of the new will. But there was nothing for it but to do +as he was ordered. It was always hard to oppose Iuri Pavlovitch; now +it was quite impossible. + +Olga Vseslavovna listened to the reading of the will with complete +composure. She sat motionless, leaning back in an armchair, with +downcast eyes, and only showing her emotion when her husband was no +longer able to stifle a groan. Then she turned toward him her pale, +beautiful face, with evident signs of heartfelt sympathy, and was even +rising to come to his assistance. The sick man impatiently refused her +services, significantly turning his eyes toward the doctor, who was +reading his last will and testament, as though he would say: "Listen! +Listen! It concerns you." + +It did concern her, without a doubt. General Nazimoff's wife learned +that, instead of an income of a hundred thousand a year, which she had +had a right to expect, she could count only on a sum sufficient to +keep her from poverty; what in her opinion was a mere pittance. + +The doctor finished reading, coughing to hide his confusion, and +slowly folded the document. + +"You have heard?" asked the general, in a faint, convulsive voice. + +"I have heard, my friend," quietly answered his wife. + +"You have nothing to say?" + +"What can I say? You have a right to dispose of what belongs to +you.... But ... still I...." + +"Still you what?" sharply asked her husband. + +"Still, I hope, my friend, that this is not your last will...." + +General Nazimoff turned, and even made an effort to raise himself on +his elbow. + +"God willing, you will recover. Perhaps you will decide more than once +to make other dispositions of your property," calmly continued his +wife. + +The sick man fell back on the pillows. + +"You are mistaken. Even if I do not die, you will not be able to +deceive me again. This is my last will!" he replied convulsively. + +And with trembling hand he gave the doctor a bunch of keys. + +"There is the dispatch box. Please open it, and put the will in." + +The doctor obeyed his wish, without looking at Olga Vseslavovna. She, +on her part, did not look at him. Shrugging her shoulders at her +husband's last words, she remained motionless, noticing nothing except +his sufferings. His sufferings, it seemed, tortured her. + +Meanwhile the dying man followed the doctor with anxious eyes, and as +soon as the latter closed the large traveling dispatch box he +stretched out his hand to him for the keys. + +"So long as I am alive, I will keep them!" he murmured, putting the +bunch of keys away in his pocket. "And when I am dead, I intrust them +to you, Edouard Vicentevitch. Take care of them, as a last service to +me!" And he turned his face once more to the wall. + +"And now, leave me alone! The pain is less. Perhaps I shall go to +sleep. Leave me!" + +"My friend! Permit me to remain near you," the general's wife began, +bending tenderly over her husband. + +"Go!" he cried sharply. "Leave me in peace, I tell you!" + +She rose, trembling. The doctor hastily offered her his arm. She left +the room, leaning heavily on him, and once more covering her face with +her handkerchief, in tragic style. + +"Be calm, your excellency!" whispered the doctor sympathetically, only +half conscious of what he was saying. + +"These rooms have been prepared for you. You also need to rest, after +such a long journey." + +"Oh, I am not thinking about myself. I am so sorry for him. Poor, +poor, senseless creature. How much I have suffered at his hands. He +was always so suspicious, so hard to get on with. And whims and +fantasies without end. You know, doctor, I have sometimes even thought +he was not in full possession of his faculties." + +"Hm!" murmured the doctor, coughing in confusion. + +"Take this strange change of his will, for instance," the general's +wife continued, not waiting for a clearer expression of sympathy. +"Take his manner toward me. And for what reason?" + +"Yes, it is very sad," murmured the doctor. + +"Tell me, doctor, does he expect his son and daughter?" + +"Only his daughter, Anna Iurievna. She promised to come, with her +oldest children. A telegram came yesterday. We have been expecting her +all day." + +"What is the cause of this sudden tenderness? They have not seen each +other for ten years. Does he expect her husband, too? His son-in-law, +the pedagogue?" contemptuously asked the general's wife. + +"No! How could he come? He could not leave his service. And his son, +too, Peter Iurevitch, he cannot come at once. He is on duty, in +Transcaspia. It is a long way." + +"Yes, it is a long way!" assented the general's wife, evidently busy +with other thoughts. "But tell me, Edouard Vicentevitch, this new +will, has it been written long?" + +"It was drawn up only to-day. The draft was prepared last week, but +the general kept putting it off. But when his pains began this +morning...." + +"Is it the end? Is it dangerous?" interrupted Olga Vseslavovna. + +"Very--a very bad sign. When they began, Iuri Pavlovitch sent at once +for the lawyer. He was still here when you arrived." + +"Yes. And the old will, which he made before, has been destroyed?" + +"I do not know for certain. But I think not. Oh, no, I forgot. The +general was going to send a telegram." + +"Yes? to send a telegram?" + +The general's wife shrugged her shoulders, sadly shook her head, and +added: + +"He is so changeable! so changeable! But I think it is all the same. +According to law, only the last will is valid?" + +"Yes, without doubt; the last." + +The general's wife bowed her head. + +"What hurts me most," she whispered, with a bitter smile, bending +close to the young doctor, and leaning heavily on his arm, "what hurts +me most, is not the money. I am not avaricious. But why should he take +my child away from me? Why should he pass over her own mother, and +intrust her to her half-sister? A woman whom I do not know, who has +not distinguished herself by any services or good actions, so far as I +know. I shall not submit. I shall contest the will. The law must +support the right of the mother. What do you think, doctor?" + +The doctor hastily assented, though, to tell the truth, he was not +thinking of anything at the moment, except the strange manner in which +the general's wife, while talking, pressed close to her companion. + +At that moment a bell rang, and the general's loud voice was heard: + +"Doctor! Edouard Vicentevitch!" + +"Coming!" answered the doctor. + +And leaving Olga Vseslavovna at the threshold of her room, he ran +quickly to the sick man. + +"A vigorous voice--for a dying man! He shouts as he used to at the +manoeuvers!" thought the general's wife. + +And her handsome face at once grew dark with the hate which stole over +it. This was only a passing expression, however; it rapidly gave place +to sorrow, when she saw the manservant coming from the sick man. + +"What is the matter with your master, Yakov? Is he worse?" + +"No, madam. God has been gracious. He told me to push the box nearer +him, and ordered Edouard Vicentevitch to open it. He wants to send +some telegram or other." + +"Thank God, he is not worse. Yakov, I am going to send a telegram to +the station myself, in a few minutes, by my coachman. You can give him +the general's telegram, too." + +"Very well, madam." + +"And another thing. I shall not go to bed. If there is any change in +your master's condition, Yakov, come and knock at my door at once. I +beg of you, tell me the very moment anything happens. Here is +something for you, Yakov;--you have grown thin, waiting upon your +master!" + +"I thank you most humbly, your excellency. We must not grudge our +exertions," the man answered, putting a note of considerable value in +his pocket. + + +III + +Contrary to expectation, the night passed quietly enough. Emotion and +weariness claimed their own; Olga Vseslavovna, in spite of all her +efforts, fell into a sleep toward morning; and when she awoke, she +started in dismay, noticing that the sun had already climbed high in +the sky, and was pouring into her room. + +Her maid, a deft Viennese, who had remained with this accommodating +mistress for five years, quieted her by telling her that the master +was better, that he was still asleep, not having slept for the greater +part of the night. + +"The doctor and Yakov were busy with him most of the night," she +explained. "They were sorting all sorts of papers; some of them they +tied up, writing something on them; others they tore up, or threw into +the fire. The grate is full of ashes. Yakov told me." + +"And there were no more telegrams?" + +"No, madam, there were no more. Yakov and our Friedrich would have let +me know at once; I was there in the anteroom; they both kept coming +through on errands." + +"But there were no more telegrams, except the two that were sent +last night." + +Olga Vseslavovna dressed, breakfasted, and went to her husband. But at +the threshold of his room she was stopped by the direction of the sick +man to admit no one without special permission except the doctor, or +his eldest daughter, if she should come. + +"Tell Edouard Vicentevitch to come out to me," ordered the general's +wife. The doctor was called, and in great confusion confirmed the +general's orders. + +"But perhaps he did not think that such an order could apply to me?" +she said, astonished. + +The doctor apologized, but had to admit that it was she who was +intended, and that his excellency had sent word to her excellency that +she should not give herself the trouble of visiting him. + +"He is out of his mind," declared the general's wife quietly, but with +conviction, shrugging her shoulders. "Why should he hate me so--for +all my love to him, an old man, who might have been my father?" + +And Olga Vseslavovna once more took refuge in her pocket handkerchief, +this time, instead of tears, giving vent to sobs of vexation. The +doctor, always shy in the presence of women, stood with hanging head +and downcast eyes, as though he were to blame. + +"What is it they are saying about you burning papers all night?" Olga +Vseslavovna asked, in a weak voice. + +"Oh, not nearly all night. Iuri Pavlovitch remembered that he ought to +destroy some old letters and papers. There were some to be put in +order. There, in the box, there is a packet addressed to your +excellency. I was told to write the address." + +"Indeed! Could I not see it?" + +"Oh no, on no account. They are all locked up in the box along with +the last will. And the general has the keys." + +A bitter smile of humiliation played about the young woman's lips. + +"So the new will has not been burned yet?" she asked. + +And to the startled negative of the doctor, who repeated that "it was +lying on the top of the papers in the box," she added: + +"Well, it will be burned yet. Do not fear. Especially if God in His +mercy prolongs my husband's life. You see, he has always had a +mysterious passion for writing new documents, powers of attorney, +deeds of gift, wills, whatever comes into his mind. He writes new +ones, and burns the old ones. But what can you do? We must submit to +each new fancy. We cannot contradict a sick man." + +Olga Vseslavovna went back to her room. She only left her bedroom for +a few minutes that day, to hear the final word of the lights of the +medical profession, who had come together for a general consultation +in the afternoon; all the rest of the day she shut herself up. The +conclusions of the physicians, though they differed completely in +detail, were similar in the main, and far from comforting; the life +and continued suffering of the sick man could not last more than a few +days. + +In the evening a telegram came from Anna Iurievna; she informed her +father that she would be with him on the following day, at five in the +afternoon. + +"Shall I be able to hold out? Shall I last so long?" sighed the sick +man, all day long. And the more he was disturbed in mind, the more +threatening were his attacks of pain. He passed a bad night. Toward +morning a violent attack, much worse than any that had gone before, +almost carried him away. He could hardly breathe, owing to the sharp +suffering. Hot baths for his hands and steam inhalations no longer had +any beneficial effect, though they had alleviated his pain hitherto. + +The doctor, the Sister of Mercy, and the servant wore themselves out. +But still, as before, his wife alone was not admitted to him. She +raged with anger, trying, and not without success, to convince +everyone that she was going mad with despair. Little Olga had been +taken away on the previous day by a friend of the general's, to stay +there "during this terrible time." That night Madame Nazimoff did not +go to bed at all; and, as befitted a devoted wife, did not quit her +husband's door. When the violent attack just before dawn quieted down, +she made an attempt to go in to him; but no sooner did the sick man +see her at the head of his couch, on which he had at last been +persuaded to lie, than strong displeasure was expressed in his face, +and, no longer able to speak, he made an angry motion of his hand +toward her, and groaned heavily. The Sister of Mercy with great +firmness asked the general's wife not to trouble the sick man with her +presence. + +"And I am to put up with this. I am to submit to all this?" thought +Olga Vseslavovna, writhing with wrath. "To endure all this from him, +and after his death to suffer beggary? No, a thousand times no! Better +death than penury and such insults." And she fell into gloomy thought. + +That gesture of displeasure at the sight of his wife was the last +conscious act of Iuri Pavlovitch Nazimoff. At eight in the morning he +lost consciousness, in the midst of violent suffering, which lasted +until the end. By the early afternoon he was no more. + +During the last hour of his agony his wife knelt beside his couch +without let or hindrance, and wept inconsolably. The formidable +aristocrat and millionaire was dead. + +Everything went on along the usual lines. The customary stir and +unceremonious bustle, instead of cautious whispering, rose around the +dead body, in preparation for a fashionable funeral. No near relatives +were present except his wife, and she was confined to her room, +half-fainting, half-hysterical. All responsibility fell on the humble +doctor, and he busied himself indefatigably, conscientiously, in the +sweat of his brow, making every effort to omit nothing. But, as always +happens, he omitted the most important thing of all. The early +twilight was already descending on St. Petersburg, shrouded in chilly +mist, when Edouard Vicentevitch Polesski struck his brow in despair; +he had suddenly remembered the keys and the box, committed to his care +by the dying man. At that moment, the body, dressed in full uniform, +with all his regalia, was lying in the great, darkened room on a +table, covered with brocade, awaiting the coffin and the customary +wreaths. The doctor rushed into the empty bedroom. Everything in it +was already in order; the bed stood there, without mattress or +pillows. There was nothing on the dressing table, either. + +Where were the keys? Where was the box? The box was standing as +before, untouched, locked. His heart at once felt lighter. But the +keys? No doubt the police would come in a few minutes. It was +astonishing that they had not come already. They would seal +everything. Everything must be in order. Where was Yakov? Probably he +had taken them. Or ... the general's wife? + +Polesski rushed to look for the manservant, but could not find him. +There was so much to do; he had gone to buy something, to order +something. "Oh Lord! And the announcement?" he suddenly remembered. It +must be written at once, and sent to the newspapers. He must ask the +general's wife, however, what words he should use. However much he +might wish to avoid her, still she was now the most important person. +And he could ask at the same time whether she had seen the keys. + +The doctor went to the rooms of the general's wife. She was lying +down, suffering severely, but she came out to him. "What words was he +to use? It was all the same to her. 'With deep regret,' 'with +heartfelt sorrow,' what did she care? The keys? What keys? No! she had +not seen any keys, and did not know where they were. But why should he +be disturbed about them? The servants were trustworthy; nothing would +go astray." + +"Yes, but we must have them ready for the police. They will come in a +few minutes, to seal up the dead man's papers!" + +"To seal up the papers? Why?" + +"That is the law. So that everything should be intact, until after the +last will and testament of the deceased has been read, according to +his wishes." + +General Nazimoff's wife paled perceptibly. She knew nothing of such an +obstacle, and had not expected it. The doctor was too busy to notice +her pallor. + +"Very well; I shall write the announcement at once, and send it to the +newspapers. I suppose 'Novoe Vremya' and 'Novosti' will be enough?" + +"Do as you think best. Write it here, in my room. Here is everything +you require; pens, paper. Write, and then read it to me. I shall be +back in a moment. I want to put a bandage round my head. It aches so. +Wait for me here." And the general's wife went from the sitting-room +to her bedroom. + +"Rita!" she whispered to her faithful maid, who was hurriedly sewing a +mourning gown of crape for her. "Do not let the doctor go till I +return. Do you understand? Do what you please, but do not let him go." +The general's wife slipped from the bedroom into the passage through a +small side door, and disappeared. + +The two rooms between hers and the chamber where the dead man lay were +quite empty and nearly dark; there were no candles in them. From the +chamber came the feeble glimmer of the tiny lamps burning before the +icons.[Sacred images.] The tapers were not lit yet, as the deacon had +not yet arrived. He was to come at the same time as the priest and the +coffin. For the moment there was no one near the dead man; in the +anteroom sat the Sister of Mercy. + +"You wish to pray?" she asked the general's wife. + +"Yes, I shall pray there, in his room." + +She slipped past the dead body without looking at it, to the room that +had been the general's bedroom, and closed the door behind her. She +was afraid to lock it, and after all, was it necessary? It would only +take a moment. There it is, the box! She knows it of old! And she +knows its key of old, too; it is not so long since her husband had no +secrets from her. + +The key was quickly slipped into the lock, and the lid rose quickly. +The paper? That new, detestable paper, which might deprive her of +everything. Ah! there it is! + +To close the lid quickly, and turn the key in the lock; to hide the +keys somewhere; here, between the seat and the back of the sofa, on +which he lay. That's it! + +A sigh of relief from fear escaped the beautiful lips of the handsome +woman, lips which were pale through those terrible days. She could +feel secure at last! + +She must look at the document, the proof of his cruelty, his +injustice, his stupidity! She must make sure that there was no +mistake! Olga Vseslavovna went up to the window, and taking advantage +of the last ray of the gray day, unfolded the will. + +"In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit!" she read. +Yes, that is it, the will. + +"How he pronounced those same words, when he was blessing little +Olga," she remembered. "Blessing her! And his hand did not tremble, +when he signed this. To deprive her, to deprive them both, of +everything, all on account of those hated people? But now--it should +never be! On no account! Your down-at-the-heel pedagogue shall not +strut about in peacock's feathers! Olga and I ... require the money +more!" + +And the general's wife was tempted to snap her fingers in triumph in +the direction of the dead man. + +Suddenly, quite close to the door, the sound of steps was heard. Good +heavens! And she held the big sheet of crested paper in her hand! +Where could she put it? She had no time to think of folding it up. +There! they are coming in already! Who can it be? + +And the will lay on the floor, the general's wife kneeling on it, as +on a prayer carpet, in an attitude of prayer, her clasped hands on the +window sill, her wet eyes fixed on a faintly twinkling star, as though +calling heaven to witness her inconsolable grief and bereavement. + +It was only the Sister of Mercy. + +"Madam, the people have come, bringing the coffin; and I think the +police have also come." + +"Yes, in a moment. Tell them I am coming immediately." + +The Sister of Mercy went out. + +"See how she loved her husband. And why was he so unjust to her at the +last?" she involuntarily reproached the dead general. + +Meanwhile the general's wife had risen hastily, folded the will as +best she could, in four, in eight folds, and crushing it together in +her hand, went quietly from the room, which now filled her with dread. + +She was so confused that she did not even think of looking for her +pocket; she simply held her packet tight, and let her hand hang down, +hiding it in the folds of her wide dressing-gown. There seemed to be +so many people in the room which a moment before was empty, that she +felt cowed. Her heart beat pitilessly, and the blood throbbed so +violently in her temples that she could not understand what was said +to her. They were asking her if they might place the body in the +coffin, which had already been placed beside it. Her silence was taken +as consent. The skilful undertakers easily lifted the already rigid +body. + +Olga Vseslavovna stood at the head of the dead general. Among the +crowd of undertakers and servants, she suddenly saw coming toward her, +with outstretched hand, and with tears of compassion in her eyes, the +Princess Ryadski, the same aristocratic kinswoman who had already +taken little Olga to stay with her. + +"I must shake hands with her! And that horrible packet is in my hand! +Where shall I put it? How can I hide it?" Before her eyes gleamed the +brilliantly lighted, ashen forehead of the dead man, helplessly bent +backward and sideways, as the whole body was suspended in the hands of +the undertakers, over its last abode. + +A saving thought! + +The general's wife bent gently over the dead body. She gently +supported the head of the corpse, gently laid it on the satin cushion, +straightened the frills which surrounded the hard pillow, and, +unperceived, left under it the twisted roll of paper. + +"It will be safer there!" The thought flashed through her mind. "He +wanted to keep his will himself; well, keep it to eternity, now! What +more can you ask?" + +And it even seemed ludicrous to her. She could hardly restrain a smile +of triumph, changing it into a sad smile of grief, in reply to her +kinswoman's condolences. The coffin was already lying in state on the +bier; it was covered with brocade and flowers. The princess, as +kinswoman of the late general, bent low, and first laid on the dead +body the wreath she had brought with her. + +"The poor sufferer has entered into rest," she whispered, shaking her +head. "Will the funeral service be soon? Where will it be? Where is +Olga Vseslavovna?" + +"She will be here in a moment," the Sister of Mercy whispered, deeply +affected; "she has gone to fix herself. They will begin the funeral +service in a few minutes, and she is all in disorder. She is in great +grief. Will you not take a seat?" + +"What? Sit down? Thank you," loftily replied the princess. And she +went toward a dignified personage who was entering, adorned with many +orders and an aristocratic beard. + +The general's wife soon came to herself. "Rita! I must wash and dress +as quickly as possible. Ah! pray forgive me, doctor! They called me +away to my husband. They were placing him in the coffin." She sighed +deeply. "What is this? Oh, yes, the announcement of his death. Very +good. Send it, please. But I must dress at once. The funeral service +will begin immediately." + +"Doctor! Is the doctor here?" an anxious voice sounded in the +corridor. + +"I am coming! What is it?" + +"Please come quick, Edouard Vicentevitch!" Yakov called him. "The lady +is very ill downstairs; Anna Iurievna, the general's daughter! I was +out to order the flowers; I come back, and see the lady lying in a +faint in the entrance. She had just arrived, and asked; and they +answered her that he was dead, without the slightest preparation! And +she could not bear it, and fainted." + +Yakov said all this as they went. + +"Actress!" angrily thought Olga Vseslavovna. And immediately she added +mentally, "Well, she may stand on her head now, it is all the same to +me!" + + +IV + +Whether it was all the same to her or not, the deep despair of the +daughter, who had not been in time to bid her father farewell, had not +been in time to receive his blessing, after many years of anger, which +had borne heavily on the head of the blameless young woman, was so +evidently sincere, and produced such a deep impression on everyone, +that her stepmother also was moved. + +Anna Iurievna resembled her father, as much as a young, graceful, +pretty woman can resemble an elderly man with strongly-marked features +and athletic frame, such as was General Nazimoff. But in spite of the +delicacy of her form, and the gentleness of her eyes, her glance +sometimes flashed fire in a manner very like the flashing eyes of her +father, and in her strong will, firm character, and inflexible +adherence to what she believed to be necessary and right, Anna was +exactly like her father. + +For nearly ten years his daughter had obediently borne his anger; from +the day of her marriage to the man she loved, whom evil-minded people +had succeeded in calumniating in the general's mind. Though writing +incessantly to him, begging him to pardon her, to understand that he +had made a mistake, that her husband was a man of honor, and that she +would be fully and perfectly happy, but for the burden of her father's +wrath, and of the separation from him, she had never until the last +few weeks received a reply from him. But quite recently something +mysterious had happened. Not only had her father written to her that +he wished to see her and her children in St. Petersburg, whither he +was just setting out, but a few days later he had written again, a +long, tender letter, in which he had asked her forgiveness. Without +giving any explanations, he said that he had received indubitable +proofs of the innocence and chivalrous honor of her husband; that he +felt himself deeply guilty toward him, and was miserable on account of +the injustice he had committed. In the following letters, praying his +daughter to hasten her coming, because he was dangerously ill, and the +doctors thought could not last long, he filled her with astonishment +by expressing his intention to make a new will, and his determination +to separate his youngest daughter "from such a mother," and by his +prayers to her and her husband not to refuse to take upon themselves +little Olga's education. + +"What had happened? How could that light-minded woman have so deeply +wounded my father?" Anna asked in bewilderment. + +"If she was merely light-minded!" her husband answered, shrugging his +shoulders. "But she is so malicious, so crafty, and so daring that +anything may be expected from her." + +"But in that case there would be an open scandal. We would know +something for certain. Nowadays they even relate such stories in the +newspapers, and my father is so well known, so noteworthy!" + +"That is just why they don't write about him!" answered Borisoff, her +husband, smiling. He himself flatly refused to go to St. Petersburg. +With horror he remembered the first year of his marriage, before he +had succeeded in obtaining a transfer to another city, and was +compelled to meet the woman he detested; compelled also to meet his +father-in-law, a wise and honorable old man, who had fallen so +completely into the toils of this crafty woman. Anna Iurievna knew +that her husband despised her stepmother; that he detested her as the +cause of all the grief which they had had to endure through her, and +most of all, on account of the injustice she was guilty of toward her +brother, the general's son. + +For six years Borisoff had lived with young Peter Nazimoff, as his +tutor and teacher, and loved him sincerely. The boy had already +reached the highest class at school, when his sister, two years older +than he, finished her schooling, and returned to her father's house, +about the time of the general's second marriage. What the young tutor +tried not to notice and to endure, for love of his pupil, in the first +year of the general's second marriage, became intolerable when the +general's daughter returned home, and to all the burden of his +difficult position was added the knowledge of their mutual love. He +proceeded frankly, and the whole matter was soon settled. But the +young man had never uttered a syllable as to the cause of Madame +Nazimoff's hatred for him. For the sake of his father-in-law's peace +of mind, he sincerely hoped that he would never know. Anna was +convinced that the whole cause of her step-mother's hostility was her +prejudice against what was in her opinion a _mesalliance_. In part she +was right, but the chief reason of this hostility remained forever a +secret to her. Unfortunately, it was not equally a secret to her +father. + +Of late years he had gradually been losing faith in his second wife's +character. It went so far that the general felt much more at ease when +she was away. Before the last illness of Iuri Pavlovitch, which, to +tell the truth, was almost his first, Olga Vseslavovna had gone abroad +with her daughter, intending to travel for a year; but she had hardly +been gone two months when the general unexpectedly determined to go to +St. Petersburg to seek a divorce, to see his elder daughter, and +change his will. Perhaps he would never have determined on such +decisive measures had not something wholly unexpected taken place. + +Borisoff was quite mistaken in thinking that he had so carefully +destroyed all the letters which the general's young wife had written +to him, before his marriage to Anna, that no material evidence of Olga +Vseslavovna's early design of treachery remained. Even before she +married the general, she had had a confidential servant, who carried +out many commissions for the beautiful young woman, whose fame had +gone abroad through the three districts along the Volga, the arena of +her early triumphs. Later, the young lady found a new favorite in +foreign lands--the same Rita who was still with her. Martha, the +Russian confidential servant, heartily detested the German girl, and +such strife arose between them that not only the general's wife, but +even the general himself, was deprived of peace and tranquillity. +Martha was no fool; Olga Vseslavovna had to be careful with her; she +did take care, but she herself did not know to what an extent she was +in the woman's power. Foreseeing a black day of ingratitude, Martha, +with wonderful forethought, had put on one side one or two letters +from each series of her mistress' secret correspondence, which always +passed through her hands. Perhaps she would not have made such a bad +use of them but for her mistress' last, intolerable insult. Prizing in +her servants, next to swift obedience, a knowledge of languages, her +mistress did not make use of her when travelling abroad; but hitherto +she had taken both servants with her. But on her last journey she was +so heartily tired of Martha, and her perpetual tears and quarrels, +that she determined to get on without her, the more so that her +daughter's governess was also traveling with her. Her company was +growing too numerous. + +There was no limit to Martha's wrath when she learned that she was +going to be left behind. Her effrontery was so great that she advised +her mistress "for her own sake" not to put such an affront upon her, +since she would not submit to it without seeking revenge. But her +mistress never dreamed of what Martha was planning, and what a risk +she ran. + +Hardly had the general's wife departed when Martha asked the general +to let her leave, saying she would find work elsewhere. The general +saw no way of keeping her; and he did not even wish to do so, thinking +her only a quarrelsome, ill-tempered woman. The confidential servant +left the house, and even the city. And immediately her revenge and +torture of the general began, cutting straight at the root of his +happiness, his health, even his life. He began to receive, almost +daily, letters from different parts of Russia, for Martha had plenty +of friends and chums. With measureless cruelty Martha began by sending +the less important documents, still signed with her mistress' maiden +name; then two or three letters from the series of the most recent +times, and finally there came a whole packet of those sent by the +general's wife to the tutor, in the first year of her marriage with +the general, before Borisoff had met Anna. + +The crafty Martha, knowing perfectly the whole state of affairs to +which these letters referred, often copied out their contents, and +kept the letters themselves concealed, saying to herself, "God knows +what may turn up, some day! + +"If they are no use, I can burn them. But they may be useful. It is +always a good thing to keep our masters in our power," argued the +sagacious woman, and she was not mistaken in her calculations, +although these letters served not for her profit, but only for a +sanguinary revenge. + +These notes and letters, which finally opened his eyes to the true +character of his wife, and his own crying injustice to his elder +children, were now lying in the general's dispatch box, in a neatly +tied packet, directed in the doctor's handwriting to "Her Excellency +Olga Vseslavovna Nazimoff." + +As soon as she received her father's first letter Anna began to get +ready to go to St. Petersburg, but unfortunately she was kept back by +the sickness, first of one child, then of another. But for his last +telegrams, she would not have started even now, because she did not +realize the dangerous character of his illness. But now, finding that +she had come too late, the unhappy woman could not forgive herself. + +Everyone was grieved to see her bitter sorrow, after the funeral +service for her father. Princess Ryadski burst into tears, as she +looked at her; and all the acquaintances and relations of the general +were far more disturbed by her despair than by the general's death. +Olga Vseslavovna was secretly scandalized at such lack of +self-control, but outwardly she seemed greatly touched and troubled by +the situation of her poor stepdaughter. But she did not venture to +express her sympathy too openly in the presence of others, remembering +the words of "the crazy creature" when she had come to herself after +her fainting fit, and her stepmother had hurried up to embrace her. + +"Leave me!" Anna had cried, when she saw her. "I cannot bear to see +you! You killed my father!" + +It was well that there were only servants in the ante-room. But the +general's wife did not wish to risk another such scene, now that so +many people were present. And besides she was extremely disturbed; the +friends who had come to the funeral service had brought flowers; and +the half-crazy princess, with the aid of two other ladies, had taken a +fancy to decorate the coffin, and especially the head, with them. It +is impossible to describe what Olga Vseslavovna suffered, as she +watched all those hands moving about among the folds of the muslin, +the frills, the covering, almost under the satin cushion even; a +little more and she would have fainted in earnest. + +She had always boasted that she had strong nerves, and this was quite +true; nevertheless, during these days, their strength was evidently +giving way, as she could not get to sleep for a long time that night, +and heaven only knows what fancies passed through her mind. It was +almost morning before Olga Vseslavovna got to sleep, and even then it +was not for long. + +She dreamed that she was descending endless stairs and dark corridors, +with a heavy, shapeless burden on her shoulders. A bright, +constantly-changing flame flickered before her; now red, now yellow, +now green, it flitted before her from side to side. She knew that if +she could reach it, the burden would fall from her. But the light +seemed to be taunting her, now appearing, now disappearing, and +suddenly going out altogether. And she found herself in the darkness, +in a damp cellar, seemingly empty, but filled with something's +invisible presence. What was it? She did not know. But this pervading +something frightened her terribly, smothered her, pressing on her from +all sides, depriving her of air. She was choking! Terror seized her at +the thought that it ... was Death! Must she die? Was it possible? But +that brightly shining light had just promised her life, gayety, +brilliance! She must hurry to overtake it. And she tried to run. But +her feet would not obey her; she could not move. + +"Heaven! Heaven!" she cried, "but what is it? Whence has such a +disaster come? What is holding me? Let me go, or I shall be smothered +in this stench, under this intolerable burden!" + +Suddenly Iuri Pavlovitch walked past her. She immediately recognized +him, and joyfully caught at his cloak. "Iuri! Forgive me! Help me!" +she cried. + +Her husband stopped, looked sadly at her, and answered: "I would +gladly help you, but you yourself hinder me. Let me go; I must fulfill +your directions." + +At that moment she awoke. She was bathed in a cold perspiration, and +clutched wildly at the coverlet with both hands. There was no one near +her, but she clearly felt someone's presence, and was convinced that +she had really seen her husband a moment before. In her ears resounded +his words: "I must fulfill your directions!" Directions? What +directions? + +She sprang up, and began to feel about over the carpet with her bare +feet, looking for her slippers. A terrible thought had come into her +mind. She felt that she must settle it at once. She must take the +will, take it away from there! burn it! destroy it! She feverishly +drew on her dressing gown, and threw a shawl over her shoulders. + +"Rita! Get up quick! Quick! Come!" + +The frightened maid rose, still half asleep, and rubbed her eyes, +understanding nothing. Her mistress' ice-cold hands clutched her, and +dragged her somewhere. + +"Ach lieber Gott ... Gott in Himmel!" she muttered. "What has +happened? What do you want?" + +"Hush! Come quick!" And Olga Vseslavovna, with a candle in her +trembling hand, went forward, dragging the trembling Rita with her. +She opened the door of her bedroom, and went out. All the doors were +open _en suite_, and straight in front of her, in the center of the +fourth, shone the coffin of her husband, covered with cloth of gold +and lit up by the tall tapers standing round the bier. + +"What does it mean?" whispered the general's wife. "Why have they +opened all the doors?" + +"I do not know ... they were all closed last night," murmured the maid +in reply, her teeth chattering with fear. She longed to ask her +mistress whither they were going, and what for? She wanted to stop, +and not enter the funeral chamber; but she was afraid to speak. + +They passed quickly through the rooms; at the door of the last the +general's wife set her candle down on a chair, and halted for a +moment. The loud snoring of the reader startled them both. + +"It is the deacon!" whispered the general's wife reassuringly. Rita +had hardly strength to nod assent. All the same, the healthy snoring +of a living man comforted her. Without moving from where she stood, +the maid tremblingly drew her woolen shawl closer about her, trying to +see the sofa on which the deacon lay. + +Knitting her brows, and biting her lips till they were sore, Olga +Vseslavovna went forward determinedly to the bier. She thrust both +hands under the flowers on the pillow. The frill was untouched. The +satin of the cushion was there, but where was ...? Her heart, that had +been beating like a hammer, suddenly stopped and stood still. There +was not a trace of the will! + +"Perhaps I have forgotten. Perhaps it was on the other side," thought +Olga Vseslavovna, and went round to the left side of the coffin. + +No! It was not there, either! Where was it? Who could have taken it? +Suddenly her heart failed her utterly, and she clutched at the edge of +the coffin to keep herself from falling. It seemed to her that under +the stiff, pallid, rigidly clasped hands of the dead general something +gleamed white through the transparent muslin of the covering, +something like a piece of paper. + +"Nonsense! Self-suggestion! It is impossible! Hallucination!" The +thought flashed through her tortured brain. She forced herself to be +calm, and to look again. + +Yes! She had not been mistaken. The white corner of a folded paper +appeared clearly against the general's dark uniform. At the same +moment a cold draught coming from somewhere set the tapers flickering. +Shadows danced around the room, over the bier, across the dead man's +face; and in the quick change of light and shadow it seemed to her +that the rigid features became more living, that a mournful smile +formed itself on the closed lips, that the tightly-shut eyelids +quivered. A wild cry rang through the whole room. With a desperate +shriek: "His eyes! He is looking at me!" the general's wife staggered +forward and fell fainting to the floor, beside her husband's bier. + + +V + +The deacon sprang from his sofa with a cry, and an answering cry came +from the lips of the shivering Rita, as she fled from the room. +Servants rushed in, rubbing their eyes, still half-asleep, questioning +each other, running this way and that. The deacon, spurred by a +feeling of guilt, was determined to conceal the fact that he was +sleeping. "It was the lady!" he said. "She came in to pray; she told +me to stop reading while she prayed. She knelt down. Then she prayed +for a long time, and suddenly ... suddenly she cried out, and fainted. +Grief, brothers! It is terrible! To lose such a husband!" and he set +them to work with restoratives, himself rubbing the fallen woman's +chilly hands. + +The general's wife opened her eyes after a few minutes. + +Looking wildly round in bewilderment, she seemed to be wondering where +she was and how she had come there. Suddenly she remembered. + +"The will! In his hands! Take it!" she cried, and fainted again. By +this time the whole household was awake. Anna Iurievna had come in, +full of astonishment at the sudden disturbance, but with the same +feeling of deep quiet and peace still filling her heart and giving her +features an expression of joy and calm. She heard the cry of the +general's wife, and the words were recorded in her mind, though she +did not at first give them any meaning. + +She set herself, with all the tenderness of a good woman, to minister +to the other's need, sending her own maid for sal volatile, chafing +the fainting woman's hands, and giving orders that a bed should be +prepared for her in another room, further away from the bier. As she +spoke, quietly, gravely, with authority, the turmoil gradually +subsided. The frightened servants recovered themselves, and moved +about with the orderly obedience they ordinarily showed; and the +deacon, above all anxious to cover his negligence, began intoning the +liturgy, lending an atmosphere of solemnity to the whole room. + +The servants, returning to announce that the bedroom was ready, were +ordered by Anna Iurievna to lift the fainting woman with all care and +gentleness, and she herself went with them to see the general's wife +safely bestowed in her room, and waited while the doctor did all in +his power to make her more comfortable. Olga Vseslavovna did not at +once recover consciousness. She seemed to pass from a faint into an +uneasy slumber, which, however, gradually became more quiet. + +Only then, as she was leaving the room, did Anna Iurievna bethink her +of the strange words that had fallen on her ears: "The will! In his +hands! Take it!" And repeating them questioningly to herself, she +walked slowly back toward the room in which lay her father's body. + +But she was even more occupied with her own thoughts. She no longer +felt in her heart the bitter resentment toward Olga Vseslavovna that +had filled it yesterday. She was conscious of a feeling of sorrow for +the helpless woman, of compassion for her empty, shallow life, the +fruit of an empty, shallow heart. And she was wondering why such +empty, joyless lives should exist in a world where there was such deep +happiness and joy. + +She came over to her father's coffin, close to which the deacon was +still droning out his liturgy, and stood beside the dead body, looking +down at the strong, quiet face, and vividly recalling her dream of the +night before. Her eyes rested on the many stars and medals on his +breast, and on his hands, quietly clasped in death. Then suddenly, and +quite mechanically, Olga Vseslavovna's cry, as she returned to +consciousness, came back into her mind: + +"The will! In his hands! Take it!" And bending down, she noted for the +first time something white beneath the muslin canopy. As she +scrutinized it wonderingly, she was conscious of an humble, apologetic +voice murmuring something at her elbow: + +"Forgive me, Anna Iurievna. I humbly beg you, forgive me! It was I ... +in the night ... the flowers fell .... I was putting them back ... +fixing the head of your sainted papa .... It was under his head, the +paper ... I thought he wanted to keep it .... I put it in his hands, +to be safe! ... Forgive me, Anna Iurievna, if I have done any harm." + +It was the deacon, still oppressed by a feeling of guilt. Anna. +Iurievna turned to him, and then turned back again, to her father's +body, to the white object shining under the muslin canopy. And once +more Olga Vseslavovna's words came into her mind: + +"The will! In his hands! Take it!" + +Gently raising the canopy, she softly drew the paper from beneath the +general's clasped hands, and unfolded it. She read no more than the +opening words, but she had read enough to realize that it was, indeed, +her father's will. + + + +FEODOR MIKHAILOVITCH DOSTOYEVSKY + + +_CRIME AND PUNISHMENT_[1] + + +One sultry evening early in July a young man emerged from the small +furnished lodging he occupied in a large five-storied house in the +Pereoulok S----, and turned slowly, with an air of indecision, toward +the K----bridge. He was fortunate enough not to meet his landlady on +the stairs. She occupied the floor beneath him, and her kitchen, with +its usually open door, was entered from the staircase. Thus, whenever +the young man went out, he found himself obliged to pass under the +enemy's fire, which always produced a morbid terror, humiliating him +and making him knit his brows. He owed her some money and felt afraid +of encountering her. + +It was not that he had been terrified or crushed by misfortune, but +that for some time past he had fallen into a state of nervous +depression akin to hypochondria. He had withdrawn from society and +shut himself up, till he was ready to shun, not merely his landlady, +but every human face. Poverty had once weighed him down, though, of +late, he had lost his sensitiveness on that score. He had given up all +his daily occupations. In his heart of hearts he laughed scornfully at +his landlady and the extremities to which she might proceed. Still, to +be waylaid on the stairs, to have to listen to all her jargon, hear +her demands, threats, and complaints, and have to make excuses and +subterfuges in return--no, he preferred to steal down without +attracting notice. On this occasion, however, when he had gained the +street, he felt surprised himself at this dread of meeting the woman +to whom he was in debt. + +"Why should I be alarmed by these trifles when I am contemplating such +a desperate deed?" thought he, and he gave a strange smile. "Ah, well, +man holds the remedy in his own hands, and lets everything go its own +way, simply through cowardice--that is an axiom. I should like to know +what people fear most:--whatever is contrary to their usual habits, I +imagine. But I am talking too much. I talk and so I do nothing, though +I might just as well say, I do nothing and so I talk. I have acquired +this habit of chattering during the last month, while I have been +lying for days together in a corner, feeding my mind on trifles. Come, +why am I taking this walk now? Am I capable of _that_? Can _that_ +really be serious? Not in the least. These are mere chimeras, idle +fancies that flit across my brain!" + +The heat in the streets was stifling. The crowd, the sight of lime, +bricks, scaffolding, and the peculiar odor so familiar to the nostrils +of the inhabitant of St. Petersburg who has no means of escaping to +the country for the summer, all contributed to irritate the young +man's already excited nerves. The reeking fumes of the dram shops, so +numerous in this part of the city, and the tipsy men to be seen at +every point, although it was no holiday, completed the repulsive +character of the scene. Our hero's refined features betrayed, for a +moment, an expression of bitter disgust. We may observe casually that +he was not destitute of personal attractions; he was above middle +height, with a slender and well-proportioned figure, and he had dark +auburn hair and fine dark eyes. In a little while he sank into a deep +reverie, or rather into a sort of mental torpor. He walked on without +noticing, or trying to notice, his surroundings. Occasionally he +muttered a few words to himself; as if, as he himself had just +perceived, this had become his habit. At this moment it dawned upon +him that his ideas were becoming confused and that he was very feeble; +he had eaten nothing worth mentioning for the last two days. + +His dress was so miserable that anyone else might have scrupled to go +out in such rags during the daytime. This quarter of the city, indeed, +was not particular as to dress. In the neighborhood of the Cyennaza or +Haymarket, in those streets in the heart of St. Petersburg, occupied +by the artisan classes, no vagaries in costume call forth the least +surprise. Besides the young man's fierce disdain had reached such a +pitch, that, notwithstanding his extreme sensitiveness, he felt no +shame at exhibiting his tattered garments in the street. He would have +felt differently had he come across anyone he knew, any of the old +friends whom he usually avoided. Yet he stopped short on hearing the +attention of passers-by directed to him by the thick voice of a tipsy +man shouting: "Eh, look at the German hatter!" The exclamation came +from an individual who, for some unknown reason, was being jolted away +in a great wagon. The young man snatched off his hat and began to +examine it. It was a high-crowned hat that had been originally bought +at Zimmermann's, but had become worn and rusty, was covered with dents +and stains, slit and short of a brim, a frightful object in short. Yet +its owner, far from feeling his vanity wounded, was suffering rather +from anxiety than humiliation. + +"I suspected this," muttered he, uneasily, "I foresaw it. That's the +worst of it! Some wretched trifle like this might spoil it all. Yes, +this hat is certainly too remarkable; it looks so ridiculous. I must +get a cap to suit my rags; any old thing would be better than this +horror. Hats like these are not worn; this one would be noticeable a +_verst_[2] off; it would be remembered; people would think of it again +some time after, and it might furnish a clew. I must attract as little +attention as possible just now. Trifles become important, everything +hinges on them." + +He had not far to go; he knew the exact distance between his lodging +and present destination--just seven hundred and thirty paces. He had +counted them when his plan only floated through his brain like a vague +dream. At that time, he himself would not have believed it capable of +realization; he merely dallied in fancy with a chimera which was both +terrible and seductive. But a month had elapsed, and he had already +begun to view it in a different light. Although he reproached himself +throughout his soliloquies with irresolution and a want of energy, he +had accustomed himself, little by little, and, indeed, in spite of +himself, to consider the realization of his dream a possibility, +though he doubted his own resolution. He was but just now rehearsing +his enterprise, and his agitation was increasing at every step. + +His heart sank, and his limbs trembled nervously, as he came to an +immense pile of building facing the canal on one side and the street +on the other. This block was divided into a host of small tenements, +tenanted by all sorts of trades. People were swarming in and out +through the two doors. There were three or four _dvorniks_[3] +belonging to the house, but the young man, to his great satisfaction, +came across none of them, and, escaping notice as he entered, mounted +at once the stairs on the right hand. He had already made acquaintance +with this dark and narrow staircase, and its obscurity was grateful to +him; it was gloomy enough to hide him from prying eyes. "If I feel so +timid now, what will it be when I come to put my plan into execution?" +thought he, as he reached the fourth floor. Here he found the passage +blocked; some military porters were removing the furniture from a +tenement recently occupied, as the young man knew, by a German +official and his family. "Thanks to the departure of this German, for +some time to come there will be no one on this landing but the old +woman. It is as well to know this, at any rate," thought he to +himself, as he rang the old woman's bell. It gave a faint sound, as if +it were made of tin instead of copper. In houses of this sort, the +smaller lodgings generally have such bells. + +He had forgotten this; the peculiar tinkling sound seemed to recall +something to his memory, for he gave a shiver--his nerves were very +weak. In another moment the door was opened part way, and the occupant +of the rooms stood examining her visitor through the opening with +evident suspicion, her small eyes glimmering through the darkness like +luminous points. But when she saw the people on the landing, she +seemed reassured, and flung the door open. The young man entered a +gloomy ante-chamber, divided by a partition, behind which was a small +kitchen. The old woman stood silently in front of him, eying him +keenly. She was a thin little creature of sixty, with a small sharp +nose, and eyes sparkling with malice. Her head was uncovered, and her +grizzled locks shone with grease. A strip of flannel was wound round +her long thin neck, and, in spite of the heat, she wore a shabby +yellow fur tippet on her shoulders. She coughed incessantly. The young +man was probably eying her strangely, for the look of mistrust +suddenly reappeared on her face. + +"The Student Raskolnikoff. I called on you a month ago," said the +visitor, hurriedly, with a slight bow. He had suddenly remembered that +he must make himself more agreeable. + +"I remember, _batuchka_, I remember it well," returned the old woman, +still fixing her eyes on him suspiciously. + +"Well, then, look here. I have come again on a similar errand," +continued Raskolnikoff, somewhat surprised and uneasy at being +received with so much distrust. "After all, this may be her usual +manner, though I did not notice it before," thought he, unpleasantly +impressed. + +The old woman remained silent a while, and seemed to reflect. Then, +pointing to the door of the inner room, she drew back for her visitor +to pass, and said, "Come in, _batuchka._"[4] + +The small room into which the young man was ushered was papered with +yellow; there were geraniums and muslin curtains in the windows, and +the setting sun shed a flood of light on the interior. "The sun will +shine on it just the same _then_!" said Raskolnikoff all at once to +himself, as he glanced rapidly round to take in the various objects +and engrave them on his memory. The room, however, contained nothing +remarkable. The yellow wood furniture was all very old. A couch with a +shelving back, opposite which stood an oval table, a toilet-table with +a pier glass attached, chairs lining the walls, and two or three poor +prints representing German girls with birds in their hands, completed +the inventory. A lamp was burning in one corner in front of a small +image. The floor and furniture were clean and well polished. +"Elizabeth attends to that," thought the young man. It would have been +difficult to find a speck of dust on anything. "It is only in the +houses of these dreadful old widows that such order is to be seen," +continued Raskolnikoff to himself, looking with curiosity at the +chintz curtain overhanging the door which led into a second small +room, in which he had never set foot; it contained the old woman's bed +and chest of drawers. The apartment consisted of these two rooms. + +"What is it you want?" asked the mistress of the house dryly; she had +followed her visitor in, and planted herself in front of him to +examine him more closely. + +"I have come to pawn something, that is all!" With this he drew from +his pocket a flat old silver watch. A globe was engraved inside the +lid, and the chain was of steel. + +"But you have not repaid the sum I lent you before. It was due two +days ago." + +"I will pay you the interest for another month; have a little +patience." + +"I may have patience or I may sell your pledge at once, _batuchka_, +just whichever I like." + +"What will you give me on this watch, Alena Ivanovna?" + +"That is a wretched thing, _batuchka_, worth a mere nothing. Last time +I lent you two small notes on your ring, when I could have bought a +new one at the jeweler's for a ruble and a half." + +"Give me four rubles, and I will redeem it; it belonged to my father. +I expect some money soon." + +"A ruble and a half! and I shall take the interest in advance." + +"A ruble and a half!" protested the young man. + +"Please yourself whether you take it or not." So saying, the old woman +tendered back the watch. Her visitor took it and was about to depart +in vexation, when he reflected that this money lender was his last +resource--and, besides, he had another object in coming. + +"Come, fork out!" said he in a rough tone. + +The old woman fumbled in her pockets for her keys, and passed on into +the adjoining room. The young man, left standing there alone, pricked +up his ears and began to make various inductions. He heard this female +usurer open her drawer. "It must be the top one," was his conclusion. +"I know now that she carries her keys in her right pocket--they are +all hung on a steel ring--one of them is three times as large as the +rest, and has the wards toothed; that cannot be the key of her +drawer--then she must have some strong box or safe. It is curious that +the keys of strong boxes should be generally like that--but, after +all, how ignoble!" + +The old woman reappeared. "See here, _batuchka_: if I take a +ten-kopeck piece a month on each ruble, I ought to receive fifteen +kopecks on a ruble and a half, the interest being payable in advance. +Then, as you ask me to wait another month for the repayment of the two +rubles I have already lent you, you owe me twenty kopecks more, which +makes a total of five and thirty. What, therefore, I have to advance +upon your watch is one ruble fifteen kopecks. Here it is." + +"What! Is one ruble fifteen kopecks all you mean to give me now?" + +"That is all that is due to you." + +The young man took the money without further discussion. He looked at +the old woman and was in no haste to depart. He seemed anxious to say +or do something more, but without knowing exactly what. "Perhaps I may +be bringing you some other article soon, Alena Ivanovna, a very pretty +cigar case--a silver one--when I get it back from the friend to whom I +have lent it." These words were uttered with much embarrassment. + +"Well, we can talk about it then, _batuchka_." + +"Good-by. You are always alone--is your sister never with you?" asked +he with as indifferent an air as he could assume, as he entered the +anteroom. + +"What have you to do with my sister, _batuchka_?" + +"Nothing. I had no reason for asking. You will--well, good-by, Alena +Ivanovna." + +Raskolnikoff made his exit in a perturbed state of mind. As he went +downstairs, he stopped from time to time, as if overcome by violent +emotion. When he had at length emerged upon the street, he exclaimed +to himself: "How loathsome it all is! Can I, can I ever?--no, it is +absurd, preposterous!" added he mentally. "How could such a horrible +idea ever enter my head? Could I ever be capable of such infamy? It is +odious, ignoble, repulsive! And yet for a whole month----" + +Words and exclamations, however, could not give full vent to his +agitation. The loathing sense of disgust which had begun to oppress +him on his way to the old woman's house had now become so intense that +he longed to find some way of escape from the torture. He reeled along +the pavement like a tipsy man, taking no notice of those who passed, +but bumping against them. On looking round he saw a dram shop near at +hand; steps led down from the footpath to the basement, and +Raskolnikoff saw two drunkards coming out at that moment, leaning +heavily on each other and exchanging abusive language. The young man +barely paused before he descended the steps. He had never before +entered such a place, but he felt dizzy and was also suffering from +intense thirst. He had a craving for some beer, partly because he +attributed his weakness to an empty stomach. Seating himself in a dark +and dirty corner, in front of a filthy little table, he called for +some beer, and eagerly drank off a glass. + +He felt instantly relieved, and his brain began to clear: "How absurd +I have been!" said he to himself, "there was really nothing to make me +uneasy! It was simply physical! A glass of beer and a mouthful of +biscuit were all that was necessary to restore my strength of mind and +make my thoughts clear and resolution fixed. How paltry all this is!" + +The next morning Raskolnikoff awoke late, after disturbed and +unrefreshing slumbers. He felt very cross and glanced angrily round +his room. It was a tiny place, not more than six feet in length, and +its dirty buff paper hung in shreds, giving it a most miserable +aspect; besides which, the ceiling was so low that a tall man would +have felt in danger of bumping his head. The furniture was quite in +harmony with the room, consisting of three old rickety chairs, a +painted table in one corner, on which lay books and papers thick with +dust (showing how long it was since they had been touched), and, +finally, a large and very ugly sofa with ragged covers. This sofa, +which filled nearly half the room, served Raskolnikoff as a bed. He +often lay down on it in his clothes, without any sheets, covering +himself with his old student's coat, and using instead of a pillow a +little cushion, which he raised by keeping under it all his clean or +dirty linen. Before the sofa stood a small table. + +Raskolnikoff's misanthropy did not take offense at the dirty state of +his den. Human faces had grown so distasteful to him, that the very +sight of the servant whose business it was to clean the rooms produced +a feeling of exasperation. + +To such a condition may monomaniacs come by continually brooding over +one idea. For the last fortnight, the landlady had ceased to supply +her lodger with provisions, and he had not yet thought of demanding an +explanation. Nastasia, who had to cook and clean for the whole house, +was not sorry to see the lodger in this state of mind, as it +diminished her labors: she had quite given up tidying and dusting his +room; the utmost she did was to come and sweep it once a week. She it +was who was arousing him at this moment. + +"Come, get up, why are you sleeping so late?" she exclaimed. "It is +nine o'clock. I have brought up some tea, will you take a cup? How +pale you look!" + +Raskolnikoff opened his eyes, shook himself, and recognized Nastasia. +"Has the landlady sent me this tea?" asked he, making a painful effort +to sit up. + +"Not much chance of that!" And the servant placed before him her own +teapot, in which there was still some tea left, and laid two small +lumps of brownish sugar on the table. + +"Here, Nastasia, take this, please," said Raskolnikoff, fumbling in +his pocket and drawing out a handful of small change (for he had again +lain down in his clothes), "and fetch me a white roll. Go to the pork +shop as well, and buy me a bit of cheap sausage." + +"I will bring you the roll in a minute, but had you not better take +some _shtchi_[5] instead of the sausage? We make it here, and it is +capital. I kept some for you last night, but it was so late before you +came in! You will find it very good." She went to fetch the _shtchi_, +and, when Raskolnikoff had begun to eat, she seated herself on the +sofa beside him and commenced to chatter, like a true country girl as +she was. "Prascovia Paulovna means to report you to the police," said +she. + +The young man's brow clouded. "To the police? Why?" + +"Because you don't pay and won't go. That's why." + +"The deuce!" growled he between his teeth, "that is the finishing +stroke; it comes at a most unfortunate juncture. She is a fool," added +he aloud. "I shall go and talk to her to-morrow." + +"She is, of course, just as much of a fool as I am; but why do you, +who are so intelligent, lie here doing nothing? How is it you never +seem to have money for anything now? You used to give lessons, I hear; +how is it you do nothing now?" + +"I am engaged on something," returned Raskolnikoff dryly and half +reluctantly. + +"On what?" + +"Some work--" + +"What sort of work?" + +"Thinking," replied he gravely, after a short silence. + +Nastasia was convulsed. She was of a merry disposition, but her +laughter was always noiseless, an internal convulsion which made her +actually writhe with pain. "And does your thinking bring you any +money?" asked she, as soon as she could manage to speak. + +"Well! I can't give lessons when I have no boots to go out in? +Besides, I despise them." + +"Take care lest you suffer for it." + +"There is so little to be made by giving lessons! What can one do with +a few kopecks?" said he in an irritable tone, rather to himself than +the servant. + +"So you wish to make your fortune at one stroke?" + +He looked at her rather strangely, and was silent for a moment. "Yes, +my fortune," rejoined he impressively. + +"Hush! you frighten me, you look terrible. Shall I go and fetch you a +roll?" + +"Just as you like." + +Later in the day, Raskolnikoff went out and wandered about the +streets. At last he sat down under a tree to rest, and fell into a +reverie. His limbs felt disjointed, and his mind was in darkness and +confusion. He placed his elbows on his knees and held his head with +his hands. + +"God! Am I to stand beating in her skull with a hatchet or something, +wade in warm blood, break open the lock and rob and tremble, blood +flowing all around, and hide myself, with the hatchet? O God! is this +indeed possible, and must it be?" He trembled like a leaf as he said +this. + +"What am I thinking of?" he cried in some astonishment. "I know well I +could not endure that with which I have been torturing myself. I saw +that clearly yesterday when I tried to rehearse it. Perfectly plain. +Then what am I questioning? Did I not say yesterday as I went up the +stairs how disgusting and mean and low it all was, and did not I run +away in terror?" + +He stood up and looked all round, wondering how he got there, and +moved off toward the T---- bridge. He was pale and his eyes were hot, +and feebleness was in all his members, but he seemed to breathe +easier. He felt that he had thrown off the old time which had been so +oppressive; and in its place had come peace and light. "Lord!" he +prayed, "show me my way, that I may renounce these horrid thoughts of +mine!" + +Going across the bridge, he quietly gazed on the Neva, and the clear +red sunset. He did not feel himself tired now, notwithstanding his +weakness, and the load which had lain upon his heart seemed to be +gone. Liberty! Liberty! he was free from those enchantments and all +their vile instigations. In later times when he recalled this period +of his existence, and all that happened to him in those days, minute +by minute and point by point, he recollected how each circumstance, +although in the main not very unusual, constantly appeared to his mind +as an evidence of the predetermination of his fate, so superstitious +was he. Especially he could never understand why he, weary and +harassed as he was, could not have returned home by the shortest +route, instead of across the Haymarket, which was quite out of the +way. Certainly, a dozen times before, he had reached his lodgings by +most circuitous routes, and never known through which streets he had +come. But why (he always asked) should such a really fateful meeting +have taken place in the market (through which there was no need to +go), and happen, too, at exactly such a time and at a moment of his +life when his mind was in the state it was, and the event, in these +circumstances, could only produce the most definite and decided effect +upon his fate? Surely he was the instrument of some purpose! + +It was about nine o'clock as he stood in the Haymarket. All the +dealers had closed their establishments or cleared away their goods +and gone home. About this place, with its tattered population, its +dirty and nauseous courtyards and numerous alleys, Raskolnikoff dearly +loved to roam in his aimless wanderings. He attracted no notice there. +At the corner of K---- Lane were a dealer and his wife, who were +engaged in packing up their wares, consisting of tapes, handkerchiefs, +cotton, &c., preparatory to going home. They were lingering over their +work, and conversing with an acquaintance. This was Elizabeth +Ivanovna, or simple Elizabeth, as all called her, the younger sister +of the old woman, Alena Ivanovna, to whose rooms Raskolnikoff went the +day before for the purpose of pawning his watch to make his +_rehearsal_. He knew all about this Elizabeth, as she knew also a +little about him. She was a tall, awkward woman, about thirty-five +years of age, timid and quiet, indeed almost an idiot, and was a +regular slave to her sister, working for her day and night, trembling +before her and enduring even blows. She was evidently hesitating about +something, as she stood there with a bundle under her arm, and her +friends were pressing some subject rather warmly. When Raskolnikoff +recognized her he seemed struck with the greatest astonishment, +although there was nothing strange about such a meeting. + +"You ought to decide yourself, Elizabeth Ivanovna," said the man. +"Come to-morrow at seven o'clock." + +"To-morrow?" said Elizabeth slowly, as if undecided. + +"She is frightened of Alena Ivanovna," cried the wife, a brisk little +woman. "You are like a little child, Elizabeth Ivanovna, and she's not +your own sister, but a stepsister. She has too much her own way." + +"You say nothing to Alena Ivanovna," interrupted the man, "and come +without asking, that's the way to do it, and your sister can manage +herself." + +"When shall I come?" + +"At seven o'clock, to-morrow." + +"Very well, I will come," said Elizabeth, slowly and reluctantly. She +then quitted them. + +Raskolnikoff also went away, and stayed to hear no more. His original +amazement had changed gradually into a feeling of actual terror; a +chill ran down his back. He had learned unexpectedly and positively, +that, at seven o'clock the next evening, Elizabeth, the old woman's +sister, the only person living with her, would not be at home, and +that, therefore, the old woman, at seven o'clock to-morrow, _would be +there alone_. It needed but a few steps to reach his room. He went +along like one sentenced to death, with his reason clogged and numbed. +He felt that now all liberty of action and free will were gone, and +everything was irrevocably decided. A more convenient occasion than +was thus unexpectedly offered to him now would never arise, and he +might never learn again, beforehand, that, at a certain time on a +certain day, she, on whom he was to make the attempt, would be +entirely alone. + +Raskolnikoff learned subsequently what induced the man and his wife to +invite Elizabeth to call on them. It was a very simple matter. A +foreign family, finding themselves in straitened circumstances, were +desirous of parting with various things, consisting for the most part +in articles of female attire. They were anxious, therefore, to meet +with a dealer in cast-off clothes, and this was one of Elizabeth's +callings. She had a large connection, because she was very honest and +always stuck to her price: there was no higgling to be done with her. +She was a woman of few words and very shy and reserved. But +Raskolnikoff was very superstitious, and traces of this remained in +him long after. In all the events of this period of his life he was +ever ready to detect something mysterious, and attribute every +circumstance to the presence of some particular influence upon his +destiny. + +The previous winter, a fellow student, Pokoreff by name, on leaving +for Charkoff, had happened to communicate to him in conversation the +address of Alena Ivanovna, in case he should ever require to pawn +anything. For a long time he did not use it, as he was giving lessons, +and managed somehow to get along, but six weeks before this time he +had recollected the address. He had two things fit to pawn--an old +silver watch, formerly his father's; and a small gold ring with three +red stones, a souvenir from his sister on leaving home. He decided on +getting rid of the latter, and went to the old woman's. At the first +glance, and knowing nothing whatever of her personally, she inspired +him with an unaccountable loathing. He took her two notes, and on +leaving went into a poor _traktir_, or restaurant, and ordered some +tea. He sat down musing, and strange thoughts flitted across his mind +and became hatched in his brain. Close by, at another table, were +seated a student, whom he did not knew, and a young officer. They had +been playing billiards, and were now drinking tea. Suddenly +Raskolnikoff heard the student give the officer the address of Alena +Ivanovna, the widow of a professor, as one who lent money on pledges. +This alone struck Raskolnikoff as very peculiar. They were talking of +the same person he had just been to see. No doubt it was pure chance, +but, at the moment he was struggling against an impression he could +not overcome, this stranger's words came and gave extra force to it. +The student went on talking, and began to give his companion some +account of Alena Ivanovna. + +"She is well known," he said, "and always good for money. She is as +rich as a Jew, and can advance five thousand rubles at a moment's +notice; yet she will take in pledge objects worth as little as a +ruble. She is quite a providence to many of our fellows--but such an +old hag! I tell you what I would do. I would kill that damnable old +hag, and take all she is possessed of, without any qualm of +conscience," exclaimed the student excitedly. The officer laughed, but +Raskolnikoff shuddered. The words just uttered so strongly echoed his +own thoughts. "Let me put a serious question to you," resumed the +student, more and more excited. "I have hitherto been joking, but now +listen to this. On the one side here is a silly, flint-hearted, +evil-minded, sulky old woman, necessary to no one--on the contrary, +pernicious to all--and who does not know herself why she lives." + +"Well?" said the officer. + +"Hear me further. On the other hand, young fresh strength droops and +is lost for want of sustenance; this is the case with thousands +everywhere! A hundred, a thousand good deeds and enterprises could be +carried out and upheld with the money this old woman has bequeathed to +a monastery. A dozen families might be saved from hunger, want, ruin, +crime, and misery, and all with her money! Kill her, I say, take it +from her, and dedicate it to the service of humanity and the general +good! What is your opinion? Shall not one little crime be effaced and +atoned for by a thousand good deeds? For one useless life a thousand +lives saved from decay and death. One death, and a hundred beings +restored to existence! There's a calculation for you. What in +proportion is the life of this miserable old woman? No more than the +life of a flea, a beetle, nay, not even that, for she is pernicious. +She preys on other lives. She lately bit Elizabeth's finger, in a fit +of passion, and nearly bit it off!" + +"Certainly she does not deserve to live," observed the officer, "but +nature----" + +"Ah, my friend, nature has to be governed and guided, or we should be +drowned in prejudices. Without it there would never be one great man. +They say 'duty is conscience.' Now I have nothing to say against duty +and conscience, but let us see, how do we understand them? Let me put +another question to you. Listen." + +"Stop a minute, I will give you one." + +"Well?" + +"After all you have said and declaimed, tell me--are you going to kill +the old woman _yourself_, or not?" + +"Of course not. I only pointed out the inequality of things. As for +the deed----" + +"Well, if you won't, it's my opinion that it would not be just to do +so! Come, let's have another game!" + +Raskolnikoff was in the greatest agitation. Still, there was nothing +extraordinary in this conversation; it was not the first time he had +heard, only in other forms and on other topics, such ideas from the +lips of the young and hot-headed. But why should he, of all men, +happen to overhear such a conversation and such ideas, when the very +same thoughts were being engendered in himself?--and why precisely +_then_, immediately on his becoming possessed of them and on leaving +the old woman? Strange, indeed, did this coincidence appear to him. +This idle conversation was destined to have a fearful influence on his +destiny, extending to the most trifling incident and causing him to +feel sure he was the instrument of a fixed purpose. + + * * * * * + +On his return from the market, he flung himself upon his couch and sat +motionless for a whole hour. It became dark, he had no light, but sat +on. He could never afterwards recollect his thoughts at the time. At +last he felt cold, and a shiver ran through him. He recognized with +delight that he was sitting on his couch and could lie down, and soon +he fell into a deep, heavy sleep. He slept much longer than usual, and +his slumbers were undisturbed by dreams. Nastasia, who came to his +room the next morning at ten o'clock, had great difficulty in +awakening him. The servant brought him some bread and, the same as the +day before, what was left of her tea. + +"Not up yet!" exclaimed she indignantly. "How can you sleep so long?" + +Raskolnikoff raised himself with an effort; his head ached; he got +upon his feet, took a few steps, and then dropped down again upon the +couch. + +"What, again!" cried Nastasia, "but you must be ill then?" He did not +answer. "Would you like some tea?" + +"By and by," he muttered painfully, after which he closed his eyes and +turned his face to the wall. Nastasia, standing over him, remained +watching him for a while. + +"After all, he's perhaps ill," said she, before withdrawing. + +At two o'clock she returned with some soup. Raskolnikoff was still +lying on the couch. He had not touched the tea. The servant became +angry and shook the lodger violently. "Whatever makes you sleep thus?" +scolded she, eying him contemptuously. + +He sat up, but answered not a word, and remained with his eyes fixed +on the floor. + +"Are you ill, or are you not?" asked Nastasia. This second question +met with no more answer than the first. "You should go out," continued +she, after a pause, "the fresh air would do you good. You'll eat +something, will you not?" + +"By and by," answered he feebly. "Go away!" and he motioned her off. +She remained a moment longer, watching him with an air of pity, and +then left the room. + +After a few minutes he raised his eyes, gave a long look at the tea +and soup, and then began to eat. He swallowed three or four spoonfuls +without the least appetite--almost mechanically. His head felt better. +When he had finished his light repast, he again lay down on the couch, +but he could not sleep and remained motionless, flat on his stomach, +his face buried in the pillow. His reverie kept conjuring up strange +scenes. At one time he was in Africa, in Egypt, on some oasis, where +palms were dotted about. The caravans were at rest, the camels lay +quietly, and the travelers were eating their evening meal. They drank +water direct from the stream which ran murmuring close by. How +refreshing was the marvelously blue water, and how beautifully clear +it looked as it ran over many-colored stones and mingled with the +golden spangles of the sandy bottom! All at once he clearly heard the +hour chiming. He shuddered, raised his head, looked at the window to +calculate the time. He came to himself immediately and jumped up, and, +going on tiptoe, silently opened the door and stood listening on the +landing. His heart beat violently. But not a sound came from the +staircase. It seemed as though the house was wrapped in sleep. He +could not understand how he had been able to sleep away the time as he +had done, while nothing was prepared for the enterprise. And yet it +was, perhaps, six o'clock that had just struck. + +Then, he became excited as he felt what there was to be done, and he +endeavored with all his might to keep his thoughts from wandering and +concentrate his mind on his task. All the time his heart thumped and +beat until he could hardly draw breath. In the first place it was +necessary to make a loop and fasten to his coat. He went to his pillow +and took from among the linen he kept there an old and dirty shirt and +tore part of it into strips. He then fastened a couple of these +together, and, taking off his coat--a stout cotton summer one--began +to sew the loop inside, under the left arm. His hands shook violently, +but he accomplished his task satisfactorily, and when he again put on +his coat nothing was visible. Needle and thread had been procured long +ago, and lay on the table in a piece of paper. The loop was provided +for a hatchet. It would never have done to have appeared in the +streets carrying a hatchet, and if he placed it under the coat, it +would have been necessary to hold it with his hands; but with the loop +all he had to do was to put the iron in it and it would hang of itself +under the coat, and with his hands in his pockets he could keep it +from shaking, and no one could suspect that he was carrying anything. +He had thought over all this about a fortnight before. + +Having finished his task, Raskolnikoff inserted his finger in a small +crevice in the floor under his couch, and brought out the _pledge_ +with which he had been careful to provide himself. This pledge was, +however, only a sham--a thin smooth piece of wood about the size and +thickness of a silver cigarette case, which he had found in a yard +adjoining a carpenter's shop, and a thin piece of iron of about the +same size, which he had picked up in the street. He fastened the two +together firmly with thread, then proceeded to wrap them up neatly in +a piece of clean white paper, and tie the parcel in such a manner that +it would be difficult to undo it again. This was all done in order to +occupy the attention of the old woman and to seize a favorable +opportunity when she would be busy with the knot. The piece of iron +was simply added for weight, in order that she might not immediately +detect the fraud. He had just finished, and had put the packet in his +pocket, when in the court below resounded the cry: + +"Six o'clock struck long ago!" + +"Long ago! Good heavens!" + +He ran to the door, listened, seized his hat, and went down the stairs +cautiously and stealthily as a cat. He still had the most important +thing to do--to steal the hatchet out of the kitchen. That a hatchet +was the best instrument, he had long since decided. He had an old +garden knife, but on a knife--especially on his own strength--he could +not rely; he finally fixed on the hatchet. A peculiarity was to be +noticed in all these resolutions of his; the more definitely they were +settled, the more absurd and horrible they immediately appeared to his +eyes, and never, for a moment, did he feel sure of the execution of +his project. But even if every question had been settled, every doubt +cleared away, every difficulty overcome, he would probably have +renounced his design on the instant, as something absurd, monstrous, +and impossible. But there were still a host of matters to arrange, of +problems to solve. As to procuring the hatchet, this trifle did not +trouble Raskolnikoff in the least, for nothing was easier. As a matter +of fact Nastasia was scarcely ever at home, especially of an evening. +She was constantly out gossiping with friends or tradespeople, and +that was the reason of her mistress's constant complaints. When the +time came, all he would have to do would be to quietly enter the +kitchen and take the hatchet, and then to replace it an hour +afterwards when all was over. But perhaps this would not be as easy as +he fancied. "Suppose," said the young man to himself, "that when, in +an hour's time, I come to replace the hatchet, Nastasia should have +come in. Now, in that case, I could naturally not enter the kitchen +until she had gone out again. But supposing during this time she +notices the absence of the hatchet, she will grumble, perhaps kick up +a shindy, and that will serve to denounce me, or at least might do +so!" + +Before he had got to the bottom of the staircase, a trifling +circumstance came and upset all his plans. On reaching his landlady's +landing, he found the kitchen door wide open, as usual, and he peeped +in, in order to make sure that, in the absence of Nastasia, her +mistress was not there, and that the doors of the other rooms were +closed. But great was his annoyance to find Nastasia there herself, +engaged in hanging clothes on a line. Perceiving the young man, she +stopped and turned to him inquiringly. He averted his eyes and went +away without remark. But the affair was done for. There was no +hatchet, he was frustrated entirely. He felt crushed, nay, humiliated, +but a feeling of brutal vindictiveness at his disappointment soon +ensued, and he continued down the stairs, smiling maliciously to +himself. He stood hesitating at the gate. To walk about the streets or +to go back were equally repugnant. "To think that I have missed such a +splendid opportunity!" he murmured as he stood aimlessly at the +entrance, leaning near the open door of the porter's lodge. Suddenly +he started--something in the dark room attracted his eye. He looked +quietly around. No one was near. He descended the two steps on tiptoe, +and called for the porter. There was no reply, and he rushed headlong +to the hatchet (it was a hatchet), secured it where it lay among some +wood, and hurriedly fastened it to the loop as he made his way out +into the street. No one saw him! "There's more of the devil in this +than my design," he said smiling to himself. The occurrence gave him +fresh courage. + +He went away quietly in order not to excite any suspicion, and walked +along the street with his eyes studiously fixed on the ground, +avoiding the faces of the passers-by. Suddenly he recollected his hat. +"Good heavens! the day before yesterday I had money, and not to have +thought of that! I could so easily have bought a cap!" and he began +cursing himself. Glancing casually in a shop, he saw it was ten +minutes past seven. He had yet a long way to go, as he was making a +circuit, not wishing to walk direct to the house. He kept off, as much +as he was able, all thought of his mission, and on the way reflected +upon possible improvements of the public grounds, upon the +desirability of fountains, and why people lived where there were +neither parks nor fountains, but only mud, lime, and bricks, emitting +horrid exhalations and every conceivable foulness. This reminded him +of his own walks about the Cyennaza, and he came to himself. + +"How true it is that persons being led to execution interest +themselves in anything that strikes them on the way!" was the thought +that came into his head, but it passed away like lightning to be +succeeded by some other. "Here we are--there is the gate." It struck +half-past seven as he stood near the house. + +To his delight, he passed in without observation. As if on purpose, at +the very same moment a load of hay was going in, and it completely +screened him. On the other side of the load, a dispute or brawl was +evidently taking place, and he gained the old woman's staircase in a +second. Recovering his breath and pressing his hand to his beating +heart, he commenced the ascent, though first feeling for the hatchet +and arranging it. Every minute he stopped to listen. The stairs were +quite deserted, and every door was closed. No one met him. On the +second floor, indeed, the door of an empty lodging was wide open; some +painters were working there, but they did not look up. He stopped a +moment to think, and then continued the ascent: "No doubt it would be +better if they were not there, but fortunately there are two more +floors above them." At last he reached the fourth floor, and Alena +Ivanovna's door; the lodging facing it was unoccupied. The lodging on +the third floor, just beneath the old woman's, was also apparently +empty. The card that used to be on the door had gone; the lodgers had, +no doubt, moved. Raskolnikoff was stifling. He stood hesitating a +moment: "Had I not better go away?" But without answering the +question, he waited and listened. Not a sound issued from the old +woman's apartments. The staircase was filled with the same silence. +After listening for a long time, the young man cast a last glance +around, and again felt his hatchet. "Do I not look too pale?" thought +he. "Do I not appear too agitated? She is mistrustful. I should do +well to wait a little, to give my emotion time to calm down." + +But instead of becoming quieter, his heart throbbed more violently. He +could stand it no longer, and, raising his hand toward the bell rope, +he pulled it toward him. After waiting half a minute, he rang +again--this time a little louder. No answer. To ring like a deaf man +would have been useless, stupid even. The old woman was certainly at +home; but, suspicious by nature, she was likely to be so all the more +then, as she happened to be alone. Raskolnikoff knew something of +Alena Ivanovna's habits. He therefore placed his ear to the door. Had +the circumstances amid which he was placed strangely developed his +power of hearing, which, in general, is difficult to admit, or was the +sound really easily perceptible? Anyhow, he suddenly became aware that +a hand was being cautiously placed on the lock, and that a dress +rustled against the door. Some one inside was going through exactly +the same movements as he on the landing. Some one, standing up against +the lock, was listening while trying to hide her presence, and had +probably her ear also against the door. + +In order to avoid all idea of mystery, the young man purposely moved +about rather noisily, and muttered something half aloud; then he rang +a third time, but gently and coolly, without allowing the bell to +betray the least sign of impatience. Raskolnikoff never forgot this +moment of his life. When, in after days, he thought over it, he could +never understand how he had been able to display such cunning, +especially at a time when emotion was now and again depriving him of +the free use of his intellectual and physical faculties. After a short +while he heard the bolt withdrawn. + +The door, as before, was opened a little, and again the two eyes, with +mistrustful glance, peeped out of the dark. Then Raskolnikoff lost his +presence of mind and made a serious mistake. Fearing that the old +woman would take alarm at finding they were alone, and knowing that +his appearance would not reassure her, he took hold of the door and +pulled it toward him in order to prevent her shutting it again if she +should be thus minded. Seeing this, she held on to the lock, so that +he almost drew her together with the door on to the staircase. She +recovered herself, and stood to prevent his entrance, speechless with +fright. + +"Good evening, Alena Ivanovna," he commenced, trying to speak with +unconcern, but his voice did not obey him, and he faltered and +trembled, "Good evening, I have brought you something, but we had +better go into the light." He pushed past her and entered the room +uninvited. The old woman followed and found her tongue. + +"What is it you want? Who are you?" she commenced. + +"Pardon me, Alena Ivanovna, your old acquaintance Raskolnikoff. I have +brought a pledge, as I promised the other day," and he held out the +packet to her. + +The old woman was about to examine it, when she raised her eyes and +looked straight into those of the visitor who had entered so +unceremoniously. She examined him attentively, distrustfully, for a +minute. Raskolnikoff fancied there was a gleam of mockery in her look +as if she guessed all. He felt he was changing color, and that if she +kept her glance upon him much longer without saying a word he would be +obliged to run away. + +"Why are you looking at me thus?" he said at last in anger. "Will you +take it or not? or shall I take it elsewhere? I have no time to +waste." He did not intend to say this, but the words came out. The +tone seemed to quiet her suspicions. + +"Why were you so impatient, _batuchka_? What is it?" she asked, +glancing at the pledge. + +"The silver cigarette case of which I spoke the other day." + +She held out her hand. "But why are you so pale, why do your hands +shake? What is the matter with you, _batuchka_?" + +"Fever," replied he abruptly. "You would be pale too if you had +nothing to eat." He could hardly speak the words and felt his strength +falling. But there was some plausibility in his reply; and the old +woman took the pledge. + +"What is it?" she asked once more, weighing it in her hand and looking +straight at her visitor. + +"Cigarette case, silver, look at it." + +"It doesn't feel as though it were silver. Oh! what a dreadful knot!" + +She began to untie the packet and turned to the light (all the windows +were closed in spite of the heat). Her back was turned toward +Raskolnikoff, and for a few seconds she paid no further attention to +him. He opened his coat, freed the hatchet from the loop, but did not +yet take it from its hiding place; he held it with his right hand +beneath the garment. His limbs were weak, each moment they grew more +numbed and stiff. He feared his fingers would relax their hold of the +hatchet. Then his head turned giddy. + +"What is this you bring me?" cried Alena Ivanovna, turning to him in a +rage. + +There was not a moment to lose now. He pulled out the hatchet, raised +it with both hands, and let it descend without force, almost +mechanically, on the old woman's head. But directly he had struck the +blow his strength returned. According to her usual habit, Alena +Ivanovna was bareheaded. Her scanty gray locks, greasy with oil, were +gathered in one thin plait, which was fixed to the back of her neck by +means of a piece of horn comb. The hatchet struck her just on the +sinciput, and this was partly owing to her small stature. She scarcely +uttered a faint cry and collapsed at once all in a heap on the floor; +she was dead. + +The murderer laid his hatchet down and at once began to search the +corpse, taking the greatest precaution not to get stained with the +blood; he remembered seeing Alena Ivanovna, on the occasion of his +last visit, take her keys from the right-hand pocket of her dress. He +was in full possession of his intellect; he felt neither giddy nor +dazed, but his hands continued to shake. Later on, he recollected that +he had been very prudent, very attentive, that he had taken every care +not to soil himself. It did not take him long to find the keys; the +same as the other day, they were all together on a steel ring. Having +secured them, Raskolnikoff at once passed into the bedroom. It was a +very small apartment; on one side was a large glass case full of holy +images, on the other a great bed looking very clean with its +quilted-silk patchwork coverlet. The third wall was occupied by a +chest of drawers. Strange to say, the young man had no sooner +attempted to open them, he had no sooner commenced to try the keys, +than a kind of shudder ran through his frame. Again the idea came to +him to give up his task and go away, but this weakness only lasted a +second: it was now too late to draw back. + +He was even smiling at having for a moment entertained such a thought, +when he was suddenly seized with a terrible anxiety: suppose the old +woman were still alive, suppose she recovered consciousness. Leaving +at once the keys and the drawers, he hastened to the corpse, seized +the hatchet, and prepared to strike another blow at his victim, but he +found there was no necessity to do so. Alena Ivanovna was dead beyond +all doubt. Leaning over her again to examine her closer, Raskolnikoff +saw that the skull was shattered. He was about to touch her with his +fingers, but drew back, as it was quite unnecessary. There was a pool +of blood upon the floor. Suddenly noticing a bit of cord round the old +woman's neck, the young man gave it a tug, but the gory stuff was +strong, and did not break. The murderer then tried to remove it by +drawing it down the body. But this second attempt was no more +successful than the first, the cord encountered some obstacle and +became fixed. Burning with impatience, Raskolnikoff brandished the +hatchet, ready to strike the corpse and sever the confounded string at +the same blow. However, he could not make up his mind to proceed with +such brutality. At last, after trying for two minutes, and staining +his hands with blood, he succeeded in severing the cord with the blade +of the hatchet without further disfiguring the dead body. As he had +imagined, there was a purse suspended to the old woman's neck. Besides +this there was also a small enameled medal and two crosses, one of +cypress wood, the other of brass. The greasy purse, a little +chamois-leather bag, was as full as it could hold. Raskolnikoff thrust +it in his pocket without examining the contents. He then threw the +crosses on his victim's breast, and hastily returned to the bedroom, +taking the hatchet with him. + +His impatience was now intense, he seized the keys, and again set to +work. But all his attempts to open the drawers were unavailing, and +this was not so much owing to the shaking of his hands as to his +continual misconceptions. He could see, for instance, that a certain +key would not fit the lock, and yet he continued to try and insert it. +All on a sudden he recalled a conjecture he had formed on the occasion +of his preceding visit: the big key with the toothed wards, which was +attached to the ring with the smaller ones, probably belonged, not to +the drawers, but to some box in which the old woman, no doubt, hoarded +up her valuables. Without further troubling about the drawers, he at +once looked under the bed, aware that old women are in the habit of +hiding their treasures in such places. And there indeed was a trunk +with rounded lid, covered with red morocco and studded with steel +nails. Raskolnikoff was able to insert the key in the lock without the +least difficulty. When he opened the box he perceived a hareskin cloak +trimmed with red lying on a white sheet; beneath the fur was a silk +dress, and then a shawl, the rest of the contents appeared to be +nothing but rags. The young man commenced by wiping his bloodstained +hands on the red trimming. "It will not show so much on red." Then he +suddenly seemed to change his mind: "Heavens! am I going mad?" thought +he with fright. + +But scarcely had he touched these clothes than a gold watch rolled +from under the fur. He then overhauled everything in the box. Among +the rags were various gold trinkets, which had all probably been +pledged with the old woman: bracelets, chains, earrings, scarf pins, +&c. Some were in their cases, while the others were tied up with tape +in pieces of newspaper folded in two. Raskolnikoff did not hesitate, +he laid hands on these jewels, and stowed them away in the pockets of +his coat and trousers, without opening the cases or untying the +packets; but he was soon interrupted in his work------ + +Footsteps resounded in the other room. He stopped short, frozen with +terror. But the noise having ceased, he was already imagining he had +been mistaken, when suddenly he distinctly heard a faint cry, or +rather a kind of feeble interrupted moan. At the end of a minute or +two, everything was again as silent as death. Raskolnikoff had seated +himself on the floor beside the trunk and was waiting, scarcely daring +to breathe; suddenly he bounded up, caught up the hatchet, and rushed +from the bedroom. In the center of the apartment, Elizabeth, a huge +bundle in her hands, stood gazing in a terror-stricken way at her dead +sister; white as a sheet, she did not seem to have the strength to +call out. On the sudden appearance of the murderer, she began to quake +in every limb, and nervous twitches passed over her face; she tried to +raise her arm, to open her mouth, but she was unable to utter the +least cry, and, slowly retreating, her gaze still riveted on +Raskolnikoff, she sought refuge in a corner. The poor woman drew back +in perfect silence, as though she had no breath left in her body. The +young man rushed upon her, brandishing the hatchet; the wretched +creature's lips assumed the doleful expression peculiar to quite young +children when, beginning to feel frightened of something, they gaze +fixedly at the object which has raised their alarm, and are on the +point of crying out. Terror had so completely stupefied this +unfortunate Elizabeth, that, though threatened by the hatchet, she did +not even think of protecting her face by holding her hands before her +head, with that mechanical gesture which the instinct of +self-preservation prompts on such occasions. She scarcely raised her +left arm, and extended it slowly in the direction of the murderer, as +thought to keep him off. The hatchet penetrated her skull, laying it +open from the upper part of the forehead to the crown. Elizabeth fell +down dead. No longer aware of what he did, Raskolnikoff took the +bundle from his victim's hand, then dropped it and ran to the +anteroom. + +He was more and more terrified, especially after this second murder, +entirely unpremeditated by him. He was in a hurry to be gone; had he +then been in a state to see things more clearly, had he only been able +to form an idea of the difficulties besetting his position, to see how +desperate, how hideous, how absurd it was, to understand how many +obstacles there still remained for him to surmount, perhaps even +crimes to commit, to escape from this house and return home, he would +most likely have withdrawn from the struggle, and have gone at once +and given himself up to justice; it was not cowardice which would have +prompted him to do so, but the horror of what he had done. This last +impression became more and more powerful every minute. Nothing in the +world could now have made him return to the trunk, nor even reenter +the room in which it lay. Little by little his mind became diverted by +other thoughts, and he lapsed into a kind of reverie; at times the +murderer seemed to forget his position, or rather the most important +part of it, and to concentrate his attention on trifles. After a +while, happening to glance in the kitchen, he observed a pail half +full of water, standing on a bench, and that gave him the idea of +washing his hands and the hatchet. The blood had made his hands +sticky. After plunging the blade of the hatchet in the water, he took +a small piece of soap which lay on the window sill, and commenced his +ablutions. When he had washed his hands, he set to cleaning the iron +part of his weapon; then he devoted three minutes to soaping the +wooden handle, which was also stained with blood. + +After this he wiped it with a cloth which had been hung up to dry on a +line stretched across the kitchen. This done, he drew near the window +and carefully examined the hatchet for some minutes. The accusing +stains had disappeared, but the handle was still damp. Raskolnikoff +carefully hid the weapon under his coat by replacing it in the loop; +after which, he minutely inspected his clothes, that is to say so far +as the dim light of the kitchen allowed him to do so. He saw nothing +suspicious about the coat and trousers, but there were bloodstains on +the boots. He removed them with the aid of a damp rag. But these +precautions only half reassured him, for he knew that he could not see +properly and that certain stains had very likely escaped him. He stood +irresolute in the middle of the room, a prey to a somber, agonizing +thought, the thought that he was going mad, that at that moment he was +not in a fit state to come to a determination and to watch over his +security, that his way of going to work was probably not the one the +circumstances demanded. "Good heavens! I ought to go, to go away at +once!" murmured he, and he rushed to the anteroom where the greatest +terror he had yet experienced awaited him. + +He stood stock-still, not daring to believe his eyes: the door of the +lodging, the outer door which opened on to the landing, the same one +at which he had rung a little while before and by which he had +entered, was open; up till then it had remained ajar, the old woman +had no doubt omitted to close it by way of precaution; it had been +neither locked nor bolted! But he had seen Elizabeth after that. How +was it that it had not occurred to him that she had come in by way of +the door? She could not have entered the lodging through the wall. He +shut the door and bolted it. "But no, that is not what I should do? I +must go away, go away." He drew back the bolt and, after opening the +door again, stood listening on the landing. + +He stood thus a long while. Down below, probably at the street door, +two noisy voices were vociferating insults. "Who can those people be?" +He waited patiently. At last the noise ceased, the brawlers had taken +their departure. The young man was about to do the same, when a door +on the floor immediately below was noisily opened and some one went +downstairs, humming a tune. "Whatever are they all up to?" wondered +Raskolnikoff, and closing the door again he waited a while. At length +all became silent as before; but just as he was preparing to go down, +he suddenly became aware of a fresh sound, footsteps as yet far off, +at the bottom of the staircase; and he no sooner heard them than he +guessed the truth:--some one was coming _there_, to the old woman's on +the fourth floor. Whence came this presentiment? What was there so +particularly significant in the sound of these footsteps? They were +heavy, regular, and rather slow than hurried. _He_ has now reached the +first floor, he still continues to ascend. The sound is becoming +plainer and plainer. He pants as though with asthma at each step he +takes. He has commenced the third flight. He will soon be on the +fourth! And Raskolnikoff felt suddenly seized as with a general +paralysis, the same as happens when a person has the nightmare and +fancies himself pursued by enemies; they are on the point of catching +him, they will kill him, and yet he remains spellbound, unable to move +a limb. + +The stranger was now ascending the fourth flight. Raskolnikoff, who +until then had been riveted to the landing with fright, was at length +able to shake off his torpor, and hastily reentered the apartment, +closing the door behind him. Then he bolted it, being careful to make +as little noise as possible. Instinct rather than reason prompted him +to do this. When he had finished, he remained close to the door, +listening, scarcely daring to breathe. The visitor was now on the +landing. Only the thickness of the door separated the two men. The +unknown was in the same position toward Raskolnikoff as the latter had +been a little while before toward the old woman. The visitor stood +panting for some little time. "He must be stout and big," thought the +young man as he clasped the hatchet firmly in his hand. It was all +like a dream to him. The visitor gave a violent pull at the bell. He +immediately fancied he heard something move inside. He listened +attentively during a few seconds, then he gave another ring and again +waited; suddenly losing patience, he began to shake the door handle +with all his might. Raskolnikoff watched with terror the bolt +trembling in the socket, expecting to see it shoot back at any moment, +so violent were the jerks given to the door. It occurred to him to +hold the bolt in its place with his hand, but the _man_ might have +found it out. His head was turning quite dizzy again. "I shall betray +myself!" thought he; but he suddenly recovered his presence of mind as +the unknown broke the silence. + +"Are they both asleep, or has some one strangled them? The +thrice-confounded creatures!" growled the visitor in a guttural voice. +"Hi! Alena Ivanovna, you old sorceress! Elizabeth Ivanovna, you +indescribable beauty!--open! Oh! the witches! can they be asleep?" + +In his exasperation he rang ten times running, and as loud as he +possibly could. This man was evidently not a stranger there, and was +in the habit of being obeyed. At the same moment some light and rapid +footsteps resounded on the staircase. It was another person coming to +the fourth floor. Raskolnikoff was not at first aware of the +newcomer's arrival. + +"Is it possible that there's no one at home?" said the latter in a +loud and hearty tone of voice, addressing the first visitor who was +still tugging at the bell pull. "Good day, Koch!" + +"Judging by his voice, he must be quite a young man," immediately +thought Raskolnikoff. + +"The devil only knows! I've almost smashed the lock," replied Koch. +"But how is it you know me?" + +"What a question! The day before yesterday I played you at billiards, +at Gambrinus's, and won three games right off." + +"Ah!" + +"So they're not at home? That's strange. I might almost say it's +ridiculous. Where can the old woman have gone? I want to speak with +her." + +"And I too, _batuchka_, I want to speak with her." + +"Well, what's to be done? I suppose we must go back to whence we came. +I wanted to borrow some money of her!" exclaimed the young man. + +"Of course we must go back again; but why then did she make an +appointment? She herself, the old witch, told me to come at this hour. +And it's a long way to where I live. Where the deuce can she be? I +don't understand it. She never stirs from one year's end to the other, +the old witch; she quite rots in the place, her legs have always got +something the matter with them, and now all on a sudden she goes +gallivanting about!" + +"Suppose we question the porter?" + +"What for?" + +"To find out where she's gone and when she will be back." + +"Hum!--the deuce!--question!--but she never goes anywhere." And he +again tugged at the door handle. "The devil take her! there's nothing +to be done but to go." + +"Wait!" suddenly exclaimed the young man, "look!--do you notice how +the door resists when we pull it?" + +"Well, what then?" + +"Why, that shows that it's not locked, but bolted! Hark how it +clinks!" + +"Well?" + +"Don't you understand? That shows that one of them must be at home. If +both were out, they would have locked the door after them, and not +have bolted it inside. Listen, don't you hear the noise it makes? +Well, to bolt one's door, one must be at home, you understand. +Therefore it follows that they are at home, only for some reason or +other they don't open the door!" + +"Why, yes, you're right!" exclaimed the astonished Koch. "So they're +there, are they?" And he again shook the door violently. + +"Stay!" resumed the young man, "don't pull like that. There's +something peculiar about this. You've rung, you've pulled at the door +with all your might, and they haven't answered you; therefore, they've +either both fainted away, or----" + +"What?" + +"This is what we had better do: have the porter up, so that he may +find out what's the matter." + +"That's not a bad idea!" + +They both started downstairs. + +"Stop! you stay here; I'll fetch the porter." + +"Why stay here?" + +"Well, one never knows what might happen----" + +"All right." + +"You see, I might also pass for an examining magistrate! There's +something very peculiar about all this, that's evident, e-vi-dent!" +said the young man excitedly, and he hastily made his way down the +stairs. + +Left alone, Koch rang again, but gently this time; then, with a +thoughtful air, he began to play with the door handle, turning it +first one way, then the other, so as to make sure the door was only +bolted. After this, with a great deal of puffing and blowing, he +stooped down to look through the keyhole, but the key was in the lock, +and turned in such a way that one could not see through. Standing up +on the other side of the door, Raskolnikoff still held the hatchet in +his hands. He was almost in a state of delirium and was preparing to +attack the two men the moment they forced an entrance. More than once, +on hearing them knocking and planning together, he had felt inclined +to put an end to the matter there and then by calling out to them. At +times he experienced a desire to abuse and defy them, while awaiting +their irruption. "The sooner it's over the better!" he kept thinking. + +"The devil take them!" The time passed; still no one came. Koch was +beginning to lose patience. "The devil take them!" he muttered again, +and, tired of waiting, he relinquished his watch to go and find the +young man. By degrees the sound of his heavy boots echoing on the +stairs ceased to be heard. + +"Heavens! What shall I do?" + +Raskolnikoff drew back the bolt and opened the door a few inches. +Reassured by the silence which reigned in the house, and, moreover, +scarcely in a fit state at the time to reflect on what he did, he went +out on to the landing, shut the door behind him as securely as he +could and turned to go downstairs. He had already descended several +steps when suddenly a great uproar arose from one of the floors below. +Where could he hide? Concealment was impossible, so he hastened +upstairs again. + +"Hi there! hang it! stop!" + +He who uttered these cries had just burst out of one of the lodgings, +and was rushing down the stairs as fast as his legs would carry him, +yelling the while: "Dmitri! Dmitri! Dmitri! May the devil take the +fool!" + +The rest died away in the distance; the man who was uttering these +cries had already left the house far behind. All was once more silent; +but scarcely was this alarm over than a fresh one succeeded it: +several individuals talking together in a loud tone of voice were +noisily coming up the stairs. There were three or four of them. +Raskolnikoff recognized the young man's sonorous accents. "It is +they!" No longer hoping to escape them, he advanced boldly to meet +them: "Let happen what will!" said he to himself: "if they stop me, +all is over; if they let me pass, all is over just the same: they will +remember passing me on the stairs." They were about to encounter him, +only one flight separated them--when suddenly he felt himself saved! A +few steps from him, to the right, there was an empty lodging with the +door wide open, it was that same one on the second floor where he had +seen the painters working, but, by a happy chance, they had just left +it. It was they, no doubt, who a few minutes before had gone off, +uttering those shouts. The paint on the floors was quite fresh, the +workmen had left their things in the middle of the room: a small tub, +some paint in an earthenware crock, and a big brush. In the twinkling +of an eye, Raskolnikoff glided into the deserted apartment and hid +himself as best he could up against the wall. It was none too soon: +his pursuers were already on the landing; they did not stop there, +however, but went on up to the fourth floor, talking loudly among +themselves. After waiting till they had got some distance off, he left +the room on tiptoe and hurried down as fast as his legs would carry +him. No one on the stairs! No one either at the street door! He +stepped briskly outside, and, once in the street, turned to the left. + +He knew very well, he knew without a doubt, that they who were seeking +him were at that moment in the old woman's lodging, and were amazed to +find that the door, which a little while before had been shut so +securely, was now open. "They're examining the corpses," thought he; +"it won't take them a minute to come to the conclusion that the +murderer managed to hide himself from them as they went up the stairs; +perhaps they may even have a suspicion that he stowed himself away in +the empty lodging on the second floor while they were hurrying to the +upper part of the house." But, in spite of these reflections, he did +not dare to increase his pace, though he still had a hundred steps or +so to go before reaching the first turning. "Suppose I slipped into +some doorway, in some out-of-the-way street, and waited there a few +minutes? No, that would never do! I might throw my hatchet away +somewhere? or take a cab? No good! no good!" At last he reached a +narrow lane; he entered it more dead than alive. There, he was almost +in safety, and he knew it: in such a place, suspicion could hardly be +fixed upon him; while, on the other hand, it was easier for him to +avoid notice by mingling with the crowd. But all these agonizing +events had so enfeebled him that he could scarcely keep on his legs. +Great drops of perspiration streamed down his face; his neck was quite +wet. "I think you've had your fill!" shouted some one who took him for +a drunken man as he reached the canal bank. + +He no longer knew what he was doing; the farther he went, the more +obscure became his ideas. However, when he found himself on the quay, +he became frightened at seeing so few people there, and, fearing that +he might be noticed on so deserted a spot, he returned to the lane. +Though he had hardly the strength to put one leg before the other, he +nevertheless took the longest way to reach his home. He had scarcely +recovered his presence of mind even when he crossed the threshold; at +least the thought of the hatchet never came to him until he was on the +stairs. Yet the question he had to solve was a most serious one: it +consisted in returning the hatchet to the place he had taken it from, +and in doing so without attracting the least attention. Had he been +more capable of considering his position, he would certainly have +understood that, instead of replacing the hatchet, it would be far +safer to get rid of it by throwing it into the yard of some other +house. + +Nevertheless he met with no mishap. The door of the porter's lodge was +closed, though not locked; to all appearance, therefore, the porter +was at home. But Raskolnikoff had so thoroughly lost all faculty of +preparing any kind of plan, that he walked straight to the door and +opened it. If the porter had asked him: "What do you want?" perhaps he +would simply have handed him the hatchet. But, the same as on the +previous occasion, the porter was absent, and this gave the young man +every facility to replace the hatchet under the bench, exactly where +he had found it. Then he went upstairs and reached his room without +meeting a soul; the door of his landlady's apartments was shut. Once +home again, he threw himself on his couch just as he was. He did not +sleep, but lay in a sort of semiconsciousness. If anybody had then +appeared before him, he would have sprung up and cried out. His head +was swimming with a host of vague thoughts: do what he could, he was +unable to follow the thread of one of them. + +Raskolnikoff lay on the couch a very long while. At times he seemed to +rouse from this half sleep, and then he noticed that the night was +very far advanced, but still it never entered his head to rise. Soon +it began to brighten into day, and the dawn found him in a state of +stupefaction, lying motionless on his back. A desperate clamor, and +sounds of brawls from the streets below, rose to his ears. These +awakened him thoroughly, although he heard them every morning early at +the same hour. "Ah! two o'clock, drinking is over," and he started up +as though some one had pulled him off the couch. "What! two o'clock +already?" He sat on the edge of the couch and then recollected +everything, in an instant it all came back! At first he thought he was +going out of his mind, a strange chill pervaded his frame, but the +cold arose from the fever which had seized upon him during his sleep. +He shivered until his teeth chattered, and all his limbs fairly shook. +He went to the door, opened it, and listened; all was silent in the +house. With astonishment he turned and looked round the room. How +could he have come home the night before, not bolted the door, and +thrown himself on the couch just as he was, not only not undressed, +but with his hat on? There it lay in the middle of the floor where it +had rolled. "If anyone came in, what would he think? That I am drunk, +of course." + +He went to the window--it was pretty light--and looked himself all +over from head to foot, to see if there were any stains on his +clothes. But he could not rely upon that sort of inspection; so, still +shivering, he undressed and examined his clothes again, looking +everywhere with the greatest care. To make quite sure, he went over +them three times. He discovered nothing but a few drops of clotted +blood on the ends of his trousers which were very much frayed. He took +a big clasp-knife and cut off the frayed edges. Suddenly he remembered +that the purse and the things he had abstracted from the old woman's +chest, were still in his pockets! He had never thought of taking them +out and hiding them! indeed, it had never crossed his mind that they +were in his pockets while examining his clothes! Was it possible? In a +second he emptied all out on to the table in a heap. Then, turning his +pockets inside out to make sure there was nothing left in them, he +carried the things to a corner of the room. Just there, the paper was +hanging loose from the wall; he bent down and commenced to stuff all +the things into a hole behind the paper. "There, it's all out of +sight!" thought he gleefully, as he stood gazing stupidly at the spot +where the paper bulged out more than ever. Suddenly he began to +shudder from terror. "Good heavens!" murmured he in despair, "what is +the matter with me? Is that hidden? Is that the way to hide anything?" + +Indeed, he had not reckoned on such spoil, he had only thought of +taking the old woman's money; so he was not prepared with a hiding +place for the jewels. "I have no cause to rejoice now," thought he. +"Is that the way to hide anything? I must really be losing my senses!" +He sunk on the couch again exhausted; another fit of intolerable +shivering seized him, and he mechanically pulled his old student's +cloak over him for warmth, as he fell into a delirious sleep. He lost +all consciousness of himself. Not more than five minutes had elapsed +before he woke up in intense excitement, and bent over his clothes in +the deepest anguish. "How could I go to sleep again when nothing is +done! For I have done nothing, the loop is still where I sewed it. I +forgot all about that! What a convincing proof it would have been." He +ripped it off and tore it into shreds which he placed among his +underlinen under the pillow. "These rags cannot awaken any suspicions, +I fancy; at least, so it seems to me," repeated he, standing up in the +middle of the room, and, with an attempt rendered all the more painful +by the effort it cost him, he looked all round, trying to make sure he +had forgotten nothing. He suffered cruelly from this conviction, that +everything, even memory, even the most elementary prudence, was +abandoning him. + +"Can this be the punishment already beginning? Indeed! indeed! it is!" + +And indeed the frayed edges he had cut from the bottom of his trousers +were lying on the floor, in the middle of the room, exposed to the +view of the first comer. "But what can I be thinking of?" exclaimed he +in utter bewilderment. Then a strange idea came into his head; he +thought that perhaps all his clothes were saturated in blood, and that +he could not see this because his senses were gone and his perception +of things lost. Then he recollected that there would be traces on the +purse, and his pockets would be wet with blood. It was so. "I am +bereft of my reason, I know not what I am doing. Bah! not at all!--it +is only weakness, delirium. I shall soon be better." He tore at the +lining. At this moment the rays of the morning streamed in and shone +on his left boot. There were plain traces, and all the point was +covered. "I must have stepped in that pool. What shall I do now? Boot, +lining, rags, where shall they go?" He rolled them up and stood +thinking in the middle of the room. "Ah, the stove. Yes, burn them. +No, I cannot, I have no match. Better throw them away. Yes, yes, that +is the thing," said he, again sitting on the couch. "At once, and +without delay too, quick." But, instead, his head fell back upon the +pillow, and chilly shiverings again came over him. He covered himself +with his cloak and slept again. It appeared hours to him, and many a +time in his sleep he tried to rise to hasten to throw away his bundle, +but he could not, he seemed chained to the bed. At last he awoke, as +he heard a loud knock at his door. + +"Eh, open, will you?" cried Nastasia. "Don't lie there like a dog. +It's eleven o'clock." + +"Perhaps he is not in," said a man's voice. + +"The porter's voice. What does he want?" Raskolnikoff rose, and sat on +the couch listening. His heart throbbed violently. "Who has bolted the +door then?" exclaimed the servant. "Open, will you?" + +"All must be discovered?" He rose a little and undid the bolt, and +fell back again on his bed. There stood the porter and Nastasia. The +servant looked strangely at Raskolnikoff, while he fixed a despairing +glance upon the porter. + +"Here is a notice for you from the office," said the latter. + +"What office?" + +"The police office." + +"What for?" + +"I don't know. You are summoned there, go." The porter looked +anxiously at the lodger, and turned to leave. Raskolnikoff made no +observation, and held the paper unopened in his hand. + +"There, stay where you are," said Nastasia, seeing him fall back on +the couch. "If you are ill, do not go. What is that in your hand?" + +He looked down; in his right hand were clutched the pieces of frayed +cloth, his boot, and the lining of his pocket. He had evidently fallen +asleep with them as they were; indeed he recollected how, thinking +deeply about them, he had dozed away. + +"The idea of taking a lot of rags to bed and hugging them to you like +a treasure!" laughed the servant in her sickly manner. + +In a second he hid all under his coat and looked at her attentively. +Although little was capable of passing in his mind, he felt she would +not talk thus to a man under arrest for a crime. But then, the police? + +"Is there anything you want? You stay here, I will bring it." + +"No, I will go. I am going at once," murmured he, rising to his feet. + +"Very well." + +She went out after the porter. As soon as she had disappeared, he +rushed to the light to look at his boot. Yes, there were spots, but +not very plain, all covered with mud. But who would distinguish them? +Nastasia could know nothing, thank heavens! Then with trembling hand +he tore open the notice, and began to read. At last he understood; it +was simply the usual notice to report himself at the office of the +district that day at half-past nine o'clock. + +"But why to-day?" cried he. "Lord, let it be over soon." He was about +to fall down on his knees to pray, when a fit of laughter seized him. +"I must trust to myself, not to prayers." He quickly dressed himself. +"Shall I put the boot on?" he thought, "better throw it away, and hide +all traces of it." Nevertheless he put it on, only, however, to throw +it off again with an expression of horror. As, however, he recollected +he had no other, a smile came to his face, and he drew it on once +more. Again his face changed into deep despair, his limbs shook more +and more. "This is not from exertion," thought he, "it is fear." His +head spun round and round and his temples throbbed visibly. + +On the stairs he recollected that all the things were in the hole in +the wall, and then where was his certificate of birth? He stopped to +think. But such despair, and, if it may be so called, cynicism, took +hold of him, that he simply shook his head and went out. The sooner +over, the better. Once again in the open air, he encountered the same +insufferable heat, the dust, and the people in drink rolling about the +streets. The sun caught him full in the eyes and almost blinded him, +while his head spun round and round, as is usual in fever. On reaching +the turning into the street he had taken the day before, he glanced in +great agitation in the direction of the house, but immediately averted +his eyes again. "If they ask me, I should confess, perhaps," said he +to himself, as he turned away and made for the office. This was not +far distant, in a new house, on the fourth floor. As he entered the +court, he saw to the right of him a staircase, ascending which was a +man carrying some books. "It was evidently there." He did not think of +asking. + +"I will go and fall on my knees and confess all," he murmured, and +began to ascend the narrow and very steep stairs. On every floor the +doors of the kitchens of the several apartments stood open to the +staircase, and emitted a suffocating, sickening odor. The entrance to +the office he was in search of was also wide open, and he walked in. A +number of persons were waiting in the anteroom. The stench was simply +intolerable, and was intensified by the smell of fresh paint. Pausing +a little, he decided to advance farther into the small low room. He +became impatient when he found no one took any notice of him. In an +inner room were seated a number of clerks engaged in writing. He went +up to one of these. + +"What do you want?" Raskolnikoff showed him the notice. + +"You are a student?" asked a clerk, glancing at the notice. + +"Yes;--that is, I used to be." + +The clerk glanced at him--without, however, any particular curiosity. +He was a man with unkempt hair and an expressionless face. + +"There is nothing to be learned from him, evidently," thought +Raskolnikoff. + +"Step in there to the head clerk," said the man, pointing to a farther +room, which was quite full of people, among whom were two ladies. + +The assistant district officer, a man adorned with red whiskers +standing out on either side of his face, and with extremely small +features, looked up impatiently at Raskolnikoff, whose filthy attire +was by no means prepossessing. The latter returned his glance calmly +and straight in the face, and in such a manner as to give the officer +offense. + +"What do you want here?" he cried, apparently surprised that such a +ragged beggar was not knocked down by his thunder-bearing glance. + +"I am here because I was summoned," stammered Raskolnikoff. + +"It is for the recovery of money lent," said the head clerk. "Here!" +and he threw a paper to Raskolnikoff, "Read!" + +"Money? What money? It cannot be that," thought the young man, and he +trembled with joy. Everything became clear, and the load fell off his +shoulders. + +"At what hour did you receive this, sir?" cried the lieutenant; "you +were told to come at nine o'clock, and now it is nearly twelve!" + +"I received it a quarter of an hour ago," loudly replied Raskolnikoff, +over his shoulder, suddenly angered, "and it is sufficient to say that +I am ill with a fever." + +"Please not to bawl!" + +"I did not bawl, but spoke plainly; it is you that bawl. I am a +student, and am not going to have you speak to me in that fashion." + +The officer became enraged, and fumed so that only splutters flew out +of his mouth. He jumped up from his place. "Please keep silence. You +are in court. Don't be insolent." + +"And so are you in court; and, besides bawling, you are smoking, so +you are wanting in politeness to the whole company." As he said this, +Raskolnikoff felt an inexpressible delight at his maliciousness. The +clerk looked up with a smile. The choleric officer was clearly +nonplused. + +"That is not your business, sir," he cried at last, unnaturally loud. +"Make the necessary declaration. Show him, Alexander Gregorivitch. +Complaints have been made about you! You don't pay your debts! You +know how to fly the kite evidently!" + +Raskolnikoff did not listen, but greedily seized the paper. He read it +through more than once, and could make nothing of it. "What is this?" +he asked of the clerk. + +"It is a writ for recovery on a note of hand of yours. Please write," +said the clerk. + +"Write what?" asked he rudely. + +"As I dictate." + +The clerk stood near and dictated to him the usual form of +declaration: that he was unable to pay, that he would not quit the +capital, dispose of his goods in any way, etc., etc. + +"You cannot write, your pen is falling from your fingers," said the +clerk, and he looked him in the face. "Are you ill?" + +"Yes, my head swims. Go on." + +"That is all. Now sign it." + +Raskolnikoff let fall the pen, and seemed as if about to rise and go; +but, instead of doing so, he laid both elbows on the table and +supported his head with his hands. A new idea formed in his mind: to +rise immediately, go straight to Nicodemus Thomich the ward officer +and tell him all that had occurred; then to accompany him to his room, +and show him all the things hidden away in the wall behind the paper. +His desire to do all this was of such strength that he got up from the +table to carry his design into execution. "Reflect, reflect a moment!" +ran in his head. "No, better not think, get it off my shoulders." +Suddenly he stood still as if shot. Nicodemus Thomich was at this +moment hotly discussing something with Elia Petrovitch, the inspector +of police, and the words caught Raskolnikoff's anxious attention. He +listened. + +"It cannot be, they will both be released. In the first place, all is +contradictory. Consider. Why did they call the porter if it were their +work? To denounce themselves? Or out of cunning? Not at all, that +would be too much! Besides, did not the porter see the student +Pestriakoff at the very gate just as he came in, and he stood there +some time with three friends who had accompanied him. And Koch: was he +not below in the silversmith's for half an hour before he went up to +the old woman's? Now, consider." + +"But see what contradictions arise! They say they knocked and found +the door closed; yet three minutes after, when they went back with the +porter, it was open." + +"That's true. The murderer was inside, and had bolted the door, and +certainly he would have been captured had not Koch foolishly run off +to the porter. In the interval _he_, no doubt, had time to escape +downstairs. Koch explains that, if he had remained, the man would have +leaped out and killed him. He wanted to have a _Te Deum_ sung. Ha, +ha!" + +"Did nobody see the murderer?" + +"How could they? The house is a perfect Noah's ark," put in the clerk, +who had been listening. + +"The thing is clear, very clear," said Nicodemus Thomich decisively. + +"Not at all! Not at all!" cried Elia Petrovitch, in reply. + +Raskolnikoff took up his hat and made for the door, but he never +reached it. When he came to himself he found he was sitting on a +chair, supported on the right by some unknown man, while to his left +stood another, holding some yellow water in a yellow glass. Nicodemus +Thomich, standing before him, was looking at him fixedly. Raskolnikoff +rose. + +"What is it? Are you ill?" asked the officer sharply. + +"He could hardly hold the pen to sign his name," the clerk explained, +at the same time going back to his books. + +"Have you been ill very long?" cried Elia Petrovitch from his table; +he had run to see the swoon and returned to his place. + +"Since yesterday," murmured Raskolnikoff in reply. + +"You went out yesterday?" + +"I did." + +"Ill?" + +"Ill!" + +"At what time?" + +"Eight o'clock in the evening." + +"Where did you go, allow me to ask?" + +"In the streets." + +"Concise and clear." + +Raskolnikoff had replied sharply, in a broken voice, his face as pale +as a handkerchief, and with his black swollen eyes averted from Elia +Petrovitch's scrutinizing glance. + +"He can hardly stand on his legs. Do you want to ask anything more?" +said Nicodemus Thomich. + +"Nothing," replied Elia Petrovitch. + +Nicodemus Thomich evidently wished to say more, but, turning to the +clerk, who in turn glanced expressively at him, the latter became +silent, all suddenly stopped speaking. It was strange. + +Raskolnikoff went out. As he descended the stairs he could hear an +animated discussion had broken out, and above all, the interrogative +voice of Nicodemus Thomich. In the street he came to himself. + +"Search, search! they are going to search!" he cried. "The scoundrels, +they suspect me!" The old dread seized him again, from head to foot. + +Here was the room. All was quiet, and no one had, apparently, +disturbed it--not even Nastasia. But, heavens! how could he have left +all those things where they were? He rushed to the corner, pushed his +hands behind the paper, took out the things, and thrust them in his +pockets. There were eight articles in all: two little boxes with +earrings or something of that description, then four little morocco +cases; a chain wrapped up in paper, and something else done up in a +common piece of newspaper--possibly a decoration. Raskolnikoff +distributed these, together with the purse, about his person, in order +to make them less noticeable, and quitted the room again. All the time +he had left the door wide open. He went away hurriedly, fearing +pursuit. Perhaps in a few minutes orders would be issued to hunt him +down, so he must hide all traces of his theft at once; and he would do +so while he had strength and reason left him. But where should he go? + +This had been long decided. Throw the lot in the canal and the matter +would be at an end! So he had resolved in that night of delirium, when +he cried out, "Quick, quick! throw all away!" But this was not so +easy. He wandered to the quays of the Catherine Canal, and lingered +there for half an hour. Here a washing raft lay where he had thought +of sinking his spoil, or there boats were moored, and everywhere +people swarmed. Then, again, would the cases sink? Would they not +rather float? No, this would not do. He would go to the Neva; there +would be fewer people there and more room, and it would be more +convenient. He recognized that he had been wandering about for fully +half an hour, and in dangerous places. He must make haste. He made his +way to the river, but soon came to another standstill. Why in the +Neva? Why in the water at all? Better some solitary place in a wood, +or under some bushes. Dig a hole and bury them! He felt he was not in +a condition to deliberate clearly and soundly, but this idea appeared +the best. + +This idea also, however, was not destined to be realized, and another +took its place. As he passed the V---- Prospect, he suddenly noticed +on the left an entrance into a court, which was surrounded entirely by +high walls. On the right, a long way up the court, rose the side of a +huge four-storied building. To the left, parallel with the walls of +the house, and commencing immediately at the gate, there ran a wooden +boarding of about twenty paces down the court. Then came a space where +a lot of rubbish was deposited; while farther down, at the bottom of +the court, was a shed, apparently part of some workshop, possibly that +of a carpenter or coach builder. Everything appeared as black as coal +dust. Here was the very place, he thought; and, after looking round, +went up the court. Behind the door he espied a large unworked stone, +weighing about fifty pounds, which lay close up against the hoarding. +No one could see him where he stood; he was entirely free from +observation. He bent down to the stone, managed to turn it over after +considerable effort, and found underneath a small cavity. He threw in +the cases, and then the purse on the top of all. The stone was not +perceptibly higher when he had replaced it, and little traces of its +having been moved could be noticed. So he pressed some earth against +the edges with his foot, and made off. + +He laughed for joy when again in the street. All traces were gone, and +who would think of looking there? And if they were found who would +suspect him? All proofs were gone, and he laughed again. Yes, he +recollected afterwards how he laughed--a long, nervous, lingering +laugh, lasting all the time he was in that street. + +He reached home toward evening, perhaps at about eight o'clock--how, +and by what particular way he never recollected--but, speedily +undressing, he lay down on the couch, trembling like a beaten horse, +and, drawing his overcoat over him, he fell immediately into a deep +sleep. He awoke in a high fever and delirious. Some days later he came +to himself, rose and went out. It was eight o'clock, and the sun had +disappeared. The heat was as intolerable as before, but he inhaled the +dusty, fetid, infected town air with greediness. And now his head +began to spin round, and a wild expression of energy crept into his +inflamed eyes and pale, meager, wan face. He did not know, did not +even think, what he was going to do; he only knew that all was to be +finished "today," at one blow, immediately, or he would never return +home, because he had no desire to live thus. How to finish? By what +means? No matter how, and he did not want to think. He drove away any +thoughts which disturbed him, and only clung to the necessity of +ending all, "no matter how," said he, with desperate self-confidence +and decision. By force of habit he took his old walk, and set out in +the direction of the Haymarket. Farther on, he came on a young man who +was grinding some very feeling ballads upon a barrel organ. Near the +man, on the footpath, was a young girl of about fifteen years of age, +fashionably dressed, with crinoline, mantle, and gloves, and a straw +hat trimmed with gaudy feathers, but all old and terribly worn out, +who, in a loud and cracked though not altogether unpleasing voice, was +singing before a shop in expectation of a couple of kopecks. +Raskolnikoff stopped and joined one or two listeners, took out a +five-kopeck piece, and gave it to the girl. The latter at once stopped +on a very high note which she had just reached, and cried to the man, +"Come along," and both immediately moved on to another place. + +"Do you like street music?" said Raskolnikoff to a middle-aged man +standing near him. The latter looked at him in surprise, but smiled. +"I love it," continued Raskolnikoff, "especially when they sing to the +organ on a cold, dark, gray winter's evening, when all the passers-by +seem to have pale, green, sickly-looking faces--when the snow is +falling like a sleet, straight down and with no wind, you know, and +while the lamps shine on it all." + +"I don't know. Excuse me," said the man, frightened at the question +and Raskolnikoff's strange appearance, and hastily withdrawing to the +other side of the street. + +Raskolnikoff went on, and came to the place in the Haymarket where he +had met the trader and his wife and Elizabeth. No one was there at the +moment. He stopped, and turned to a young fellow, in a red shirt, who +was gaping at the entrance to a flour shop. + +"A man trades here at this corner, with his wife, eh?" + +"Everyone trades here," replied the lad, scanning his questioner from +head to foot. + +"What is he called?" + +"What he was christened." + +"But you belong to Zaraisk, don't you? To what Government?" + +The boy stared at Raskolnikoff. "We have no governor, your highness, +but districts. I stay at home, and know nothing about it, but my +brother does; so pardon me, your most mighty highness." + +"Is that an eating house there?" + +"That's a dram shop; they have a billiard table." + +"There are newspapers here?" asked he, as he entered a room--one of a +suite--rather empty. Two or three persons sat with tea before them, +while in a farther room a group of men were seated, drinking +champagne. Raskolnikoff thought he recognized Zametoff among them, but +he could not be sure. "Never mind, if it is!" he muttered. + +"Brandy, sir?" asked the waiter. + +"No, tea; and bring me some newspapers--for about the last five days. +I'll give you a drink." + +The papers and the tea appeared. Raskolnikoff sat and searched, and, +at last, found what he wanted. "Ah, here it is!" he cried, as he began +to read. The words danced before his eyes, but he read greedily to the +end, and turned to others for later intelligence. His hands trembled +with impatience, and the sheets shook again. Suddenly some one sat +down near him. He looked up, and there was Zametoff--that same +Zametoff, with his rings and chain, his oiled locks and fancy +waistcoat and unclean linen. He seemed pleased, and his tanned face, a +little inflamed by the champagne, wore a smile. + +"Ah! you here?" he commenced, in a tone as if he had known +Raskolnikoff for an age. "Why Razoumikhin told me yesterday that you +were lying unconscious. How strange! Then I was at your place----" + +Raskolnikoff laid down the paper and turned to Zametoff. On his lips +was a slight provoking smile. "I know you were," he replied, "I heard +so. You searched for my boot. To what agreeable places you resort. Who +gives you champagne to drink?" + +"We were drinking together. What do you mean?" + +"Nothing, dear boy, nothing," said Raskolnikoff, with a smile and +slapping Zametoff on the shoulders. "I am not in earnest, but simply +in fun, as your workman said, when he wrestled with Dmitri, you know, +in that murder case." + +"Do you know about that?" + +"Yes, and perhaps more than you do." + +"You are very peculiar. It is a pity you came out. You are ill." + +"Do I seem strange?" + +"Yes; what are you reading?" + +"The paper." + +"There are a number of fires." + +"I am not reading about them." He looked curiously at Zametoff, and a +malicious smile distorted his lips. "No, fires are not in my line," he +added, winking at Zametoff. "Now, I should like to know, sweet youth, +what it signifies to you what I read?" + +"Nothing at all. I only asked. Perhaps I----" + +"Listen. You are a cultivated man--a literary man, are you not?" + +"I was in the sixth class at college," Zametoff answered, with a +certain amount of dignity. + +"The sixth! Oh, my fine fellow! With rings and a chain--a rich man! +You are a dear boy," and Raskolnikoff gave a short, nervous laugh, +right in the face of Zametoff. The latter was very much taken aback, +and, if not offended, seemed a good deal surprised. + +"How strange you are!" said Zametoff seriously. "You have the fever +still on you; you are raving!" + +"Am I, my fine fellow--am I strange? Yes, but I am very interesting to +you, am I not?" + +"Interesting?" + +"Yes. You ask me what I am reading, what I am looking for; then I am +looking through a number of papers. Suspicious, isn't it? Well, I will +explain to you, or rather confess--no, not that exactly. I will give +testimony, and you shall take it down--that's it. So then, I swear +that I was reading, and came here on purpose"--Raskolnikoff blinked +his eyes and paused--"to read an account of the murder of the old +woman." He finished almost in a whisper, eagerly watching Zametoff's +face. The latter returned his glances without flinching. And it +appeared strange to Zametoff that a full minute seemed to pass as they +kept fixedly staring at each other in this manner. + +"Oh, so that's what you have been reading?" Zametoff at last cried +impatiently. "What is there in that?" "She is the same woman," +continued Raskolnikoff, still in a whisper, and taking no notice of +Zametoff's remark, "the very same woman you were talking about when I +swooned in your office. You recollect--you surely recollect?" + +"Recollect what?" said Zametoff, almost alarmed. + +The serious expression on Raskolnikoff's face altered in an instant, +and he again commenced his nervous laugh, and laughed as if he were +quite unable to contain himself. There had recurred to his mind, with +fearful clearness, the moment when he stood at the door with the +hatchet in his hand. There he was, holding the bolt, and they were +tugging and thumping away at the door. Oh, how he itched to shriek at +them, open the door, thrust out his tongue at them, and frighten them +away, and then laugh, "Ah, ah, ah, ah!" + +"You are insane, or else--" said Zametoff, and then paused as if a new +thought had suddenly struck him. + +"Or what, or what? Now what? Tell me!" + +"Nonsense!" said Zametoff to himself, "it can't be." Both became +silent. After this unexpected and fitful outburst of laughter, +Raskolnikoff had become lost in thought and looked very sad. He leaned +on the table with his elbows, buried his head in his hands, and seemed +to have quite forgotten Zametoff. The silence continued a long time. +"You do not drink your tea; it is getting cold," said the latter, at +last. + +"What? Tea? Yes!" Raskolnikoff snatched at his glass, put a piece of +bread in his mouth, and then, after looking at Zametoff, seemingly +recollected and roused himself. His face at once resumed its previous +smile, and he continued to sip his tea. + +"What a number of rogues there are about," Zametoff said. "I read not +long ago, in the Moscow papers, that they had captured a whole gang of +forgers in that city. Quite a colony." + +"That's old news. I read it a month ago," replied Raskolnikoff in a +careless manner. "And you call such as these rogues?" he added, +smiling. + +"Why not?" + +"Rogues indeed! Why, they are only children and babies. Fifty banded +together for such purposes! Is it possible? Three would be quite +sufficient, and then they should be sure of one another--not babble +over their cups. The babies! Then to hire unreliable people to change +the notes at the money changers', persons whose hands tremble as they +receive the rubles. On such their lives depend! Far better to strangle +yourself! The man goes in, receives the change, counts some over, the +last portion he takes on faith, stuffs all in his pocket, rushes away +and the murder is out. All is lost by one foolish man. Is it not +ridiculous?" + +"That his hands should shake?" replied Zametoff. "No; that is quite +likely. Yours would not, I suppose? I could not endure it, though. For +a paltry reward of a hundred rubles to go on such a mission! And +where? Into a banker's office with forged notes! I should certainly +lose my head. Would not you?" + +Raskolnikoff felt again a strong impulse to make a face at him. A +shiver ran down his back. "You would not catch me acting so +foolishly," he commenced. "This is how I should do. I should count +over the first thousand very carefully, perhaps four times, right to +the end, carefully examine each note, and then only pass to the second +thousand, count these as far as the middle of the bundle, take out a +note, hold it to the light, turn it over, then hold it to the light +again, and say, 'I fear this is a bad note,' and then begin to relate +some story about a lost note. Then there would be a third thousand to +count. Not yet, please, there is a mistake in the second thousand. No, +it is correct. And so I should proceed until I had received all. At +last I should turn to go, open the door, but, no, pardon me! I should +return, ask some question, receive some explanation, and there it is +all done." + +"What funny things you do say!" said Zametoff with a smile. "You are +all very well theoretically, but try it and see. Look, for example, at +the murder of the money lender, a case in point. There was a desperate +villain who in broad daylight stopped at nothing, and yet his hand +shook, did it not?--and he could not finish, and left all the spoil +behind him. The deed evidently robbed him of his presence of mind." + +This language nettled Raskolnikoff. "You think so? Then lay your hand +upon him," said he, maliciously delighted to tease him. + +"Never fear but we shall!" + +"You? Go to, you know nothing about it. All you think of inquiring is +whether a man is flinging money about; he is--then, _ergo_ he is +guilty." + +"That is exactly what they do," replied Zametoff, "they murder, risk +their lives, and then rush to the public house and are caught. Their +lavishness betrays them. You see they are not all so crafty as you +are. You would not run there, I suppose?" + +Raskolnikoff frowned and looked steadily at Zametoff. "You seem +anxious to know how I should act," he said with some displeasure. + +"I should very much like to know," replied Zametoff in a serious tone. +He seemed, indeed, very anxious. + +"Very much?" + +"Very much." + +"Good. This would be my plan," Raskolnikoff said, as he again bent +near to the face of his listener, and speaking in such a tragic +whisper as almost to make the latter shudder. "I should take the money +and all I could find, and make off, going, however, in no particular +direction, but on and on until I came to some obscure and inclosed +place, where no one was about--a market garden, or any such-like spot. +I should then look about me for a stone, perhaps a pound and a half in +weight, lying, it may be, in a corner against a partition, say a stone +used for building purposes; this I should lift up and under it there +would be a hole. In that hole I should deposit all the things I had +got, roll back the stone, stamp it down with my feet, and be off. For +a year I should let them lie--for two years, three years. Now then, +search for them! Where are they?" + +"You are indeed mad," said Zametoff, also in a low tone, but turning +away from Raskolnikoff. The latter's eyes glistened, he became paler +than ever, while his upper lip trembled violently. He placed his face +closer, if possible, to that of Zametoff, his lips moving as if he +wished to speak, but no words escaped them--several moments +elapsed--Raskolnikoff knew what he was doing, but felt utterly unable +to control himself, that strange impulse was upon him as when he stood +at the bolted door, to come forth and let all be known. + +"What if I killed the old woman and Elizabeth?" he asked suddenly, and +then--came to himself. + +Zametoff turned quite pale; then his face changed to a smile. "Can it +be so?" he muttered to himself. + +Raskolnikoff eyed him savagely. "Speak out. What do you think? Yes? Is +it so?" + +"Of course not. I believe it now less than ever," replied Zametoff +hastily. + +"Caught at last! caught, my fine fellow! What people believe less than +ever, they must have believed once, eh?" + +"Not at all. You frightened me into the supposition," said Zametoff, +visibly confused. + +"So you do not think this? Then why those questions in the office? Why +did the lieutenant question me after my swoon? Waiter," he cried, +seizing his cap, "here, how much?" + +"Thirty kopecks, sir," replied the man. + +"There you are, and twenty for yourself. Look, what a lot of money!" +turning to Zametoff and thrusting forth his shaking hand filled with +the twenty-five rubles, red and blue notes. "Whence comes all this? +Where did I obtain these new clothes from? You know I had none. You +have asked the landlady, I suppose? Well, no matter!--Enough! Adieu, +most affectionately." + +He went out, shaking from some savage hysterical emotion, a mixture of +delight, gloom, and weariness. His face was drawn as if he had just +recovered from a fit; and, as his agitation of mind increased, so did +his weakness. + +Meanwhile, Zametoff remained in the restaurant where Raskolnikoff had +left him, deeply buried in thought, considering the different points +Raskolnikoff had placed before him. + +His heart was empty and depressed, and he strove again to drive off +thought. No feeling of anguish came, neither was there any trace of +that fierce energy which moved him when he left the house to "put an +end to it all." + +"What will be the end of it? The result lies in my own will. What kind +of end? Ah, we are all alike, and accept the bit of ground for our +feet and live. Must this be the end? Shall I say the word or not? Oh, +how weary I feel! Oh, to lie down or sit anywhere! How foolish it is +to strive against my illness! Bah! What thoughts run through my +brain!" Thus he meditated as he went drowsily along the banks of the +canal, until, turning to the right and then to the left, he reached +the office building. He stopped short, however, and, turning down a +lane, went on past two other streets, with no fixed purpose, simply, +no doubt, to give himself a few moments longer for reflection. He went +on, his eyes fixed on the ground, until all of a sudden he started, as +if some one had whispered in his ear. Raising his eyes he saw that he +stood before _the house_, at its very gates. + +Quick as lightning, an idea rushed into his head, and he marched +through the yard and made his way up the well-known staircase to the +fourth story. It was, as usual, very dark, and as he reached each +landing he peered almost with caution. There was the room newly +painted, where Dmitri and Mikola had worked. He reached the fourth +landing and he paused before the murdered woman's room in doubt. The +door was wide open and he could hear voices within; this he had not +anticipated. However, after wavering a little, he went straight in. +The room was being done up, and in it were some workmen. This +astonished him--indeed, it would seem he had expected to find +everything as he had left it, even to the dead bodies lying on the +floor. But to see the place with bare walls and bereft of furniture +was very strange! He walked up to the windows and sat on the sill. One +of the workmen now saw him and cried: + +"What do you want here?" + +Instead of replying, Raskolnikoff walked to the outer door and, +standing outside, began to pull at the bell. Yes, that was the bell, +with its harsh sound. He pulled again and again three times, and +remained there listening and thinking. + +"What is it you want?" again cried the workman as he went out to +Raskolnikoff. + +"I wish to hire some rooms. I came to look at these." + +"People don't take lodgings in the night. Why don't you apply to the +porter?" + +"The floor has been washed. Are you going to paint it?" remarked +Raskolnikoff. "Where is the blood?" + +"What blood?" + +"The old woman's and her sister's. There was quite a pool." + +"Who are you?" cried the workman uneasily. + +"I am Rodion Romanovitch Raskolnikoff, ex-student. I live at the +house Schilla, in a lane not far from here, No. 14. Ask the porter +there--he knows me," Raskolnikoff replied indifferently, without +turning to his questioner. + +"What were you doing in those rooms?" + +"Looking at them." + +"What for? Come, out you go then, if you won't explain yourself," +suddenly shouted the porter, a huge fellow in a smock frock, with a +large bunch of keys round his waist; and he caught Raskolnikoff by the +shoulder and pitched him into the street. The latter lurched forward, +but recovered himself, and, giving one look at the spectators, went +quietly away. + +"What shall I do now?" thought Raskolnikoff. He was standing on the +bridge, near a crossing, and was looking around him as if expecting +some one to speak. But no one spoke, and all was dark and dull, and +dead--at least to him, and him alone. + +A few days later, Raskolnikoff heard from his friend Razoumikhin that +those who had borrowed money from Alena Ivanovna were going to the +police office to redeem their pledges. He went with Razoumikhin to the +office where they were received by Porphyrius Petrovitch, the +examining magistrate, who seemed to have expected them. + +"You have been expecting this visit? But how did you know that he had +pledged anything with Alena Ivanovna?" cried Razoumikhin. + +Porphyrius Petrovitch, without any further reply, said to +Raskolnikoff: "Your things, a ring and a watch, were at her place, +wrapped up in a piece of paper, and on this paper your name was +legibly written in pencil, with the date of the day she had received +these things from you." + +"What a memory you must have got!" said Raskolnikoff, with a forced +smile, doing his best to look the magistrate unflinchingly in the +face. However, he could not help adding: "I say so, because, as the +owners of the pledged articles are no doubt very numerous, you must, I +should fancy, have some difficulty in remembering them all; but I see, +on the contrary, that you do nothing of the kind. (Oh! fool! why add +that?)" + +"But they have nearly all of them come here; you alone had not done +so," answered Porphyrius, with an almost imperceptible sneer. + +"I happened to be rather unwell." + +"So I heard. I have been told that you have been in great pain. Even +now you are pale." + +"Not at all. I am not pale. On the contrary, I am very well!" answered +Raskolnikoff in a tone of voice which had all at once become brutal +and violent. He felt rising within him uncontrollable anger. "Anger +will make me say some foolish thing," he thought. "But why do they +exasperate me?" + +"He was rather unwell! A pretty expression, to be sure!" exclaimed +Razoumikhin. "The fact is that up to yesterday he has been almost +unconscious. Would you believe it, Porphyrius? Yesterday, when he +could hardly stand upright, he seized the moment when we had just left +him, to dress, to be off by stealth, and to go loafing about, Heaven +only knows where, till midnight, being, all the time, in a completely +raving condition. Can you imagine such a thing? It is a most +remarkable case!" + +"Indeed! In a completely raving state?" remarked Porphyrius, with the +toss of the head peculiar to Russian rustics. + +"Absurd! Don't you believe a word of it! Besides, I need not urge you +to that effect--of course you are convinced," observed Raskolnikoff, +beside himself with passion. But Porphyrius Petrovitch did not seem to +hear these singular words. + +"How could you have gone out if you had not been delirious?" asked +Razoumikhin, getting angry in his turn. "Why have gone out at all? +What was the object of it? And, above all, to go in that secret +manner? Come, now, make a clean breast of it--you know you were out of +your mind, were you not? Now that danger is gone by, I tell you so to +your face." + +"I had been very much annoyed yesterday," said Raskolnikoff, +addressing the magistrate, with more or less of insolence in his +smile, "and, wishing to get rid of them, I went out to hire lodgings +where I could be sure of privacy, to effect which I had taken a +certain amount of money. Mr. Zametoff saw what I had by me, and +perhaps he can say whether I was in my right senses yesterday or +whether I was delirious? Perhaps he will judge as to our quarrel." +Nothing would have pleased him better than there and then to have +strangled that gentleman, whose taciturnity and equivocal facial +expression irritated him. + +"In my opinion, you were talking very sensibly and even with +considerable shrewdness; only I thought you too irritable," observed +Zametoff off-handedly. + +"Do let us have some tea! We are as dry as fishes!" exclaimed +Razoumikhin. + +"Good idea! But perhaps you would like something more substantial +before tea, would you?" + +"Look alive, then!" + +Porphyrius Petrovitch went out to order tea. All kinds of thoughts +were at work in Raskolnikoff's brain. He was excited. "They don't even +take pains to dissemble; they certainly don't mince matters as far as +I am concerned: that is something, at all events! Since Porphyrius +knew next to nothing about me, why on earth should he have spoken with +Nicodemus Thomich Zametoff at all? They even scorn to deny that they +are on my track, almost like a pack of hounds! They certainly speak +out plainly enough!" he said, trembling with rage. "Well, do so, as +bluntly as you like, but don't play with me as the cat would with the +mouse! That's not quite civil, Porphyrius Petrovitch; I won't quite +allow that yet! I'll make a stand and tell you some plain truths to +your faces, and then you shall find out my real opinion about you!" He +had some difficulty in breathing. "But supposing that all this is pure +fancy?--a kind of mirage? Suppose I had misunderstood? Let me try and +keep up my nasty part, and not commit myself, like the fool, by blind +anger! Ought I to give them credit for intentions they have not? Their +words are, in themselves, not very extraordinary ones--so much must be +allowed; but a double meaning may lurk beneath them. Why did +Porphyrius, in speaking of the old woman, simply say 'At her place?' +Why did Zametoff observe that I had spoken very sensibly? Why their +peculiar manner?--yes, it is this manner of theirs. How is it possible +that all this cannot have struck Razoumikhin? The booby never notices +anything! But I seem to be feverish again! Did Porphyrius give me a +kind of wink just now, or was I deceived in some way? The idea is +absurd! Why should he wink at me? Perhaps they intend to upset my +nervous organization, and, by so doing, drive me to extremes! Either +the whole thing is a phantasmagoria, or--they know!" + +These thoughts flashed through his mind with the rapidity of +lightning. Porphyrius Petrovitch came back a moment afterwards. He +seemed in a very good temper. "When I left your place yesterday, old +fellow, I was really not well," he commenced, addressing Razoumikhin +with a cheeriness which was only just becoming apparent, "but that is +all gone now." + +"Did you find the evening a pleasant one? I left you in the thick of +the fun; who came off best?" + +"Nobody, of course. They caviled to their heart's content over their +old arguments." + +"Fancy, Rodia, the discussion last evening turned on the question: +'Does crime exist? Yes, or No.' And the nonsense they talked on the +subject!" + +"What is there extraordinary in the query? It is the social question +without the charm of novelty," answered Raskolnikoff abruptly. + +"Talking of crime," said Porphyrius Petrovitch, speaking to +Raskolnikoff, "I remember a production of yours which greatly +interested me. I am speaking about your article _on crime_. I don't +very well remember the title. I was delighted in reading it two months +ago in the _Periodical Word."_ + +"But how do you know the article was mine? I only signed it with an +initial." + +"I discovered it lately, quite by chance. The chief editor is a friend +of mine; it was he who let out the secret of your authorship. The +article has greatly interested me." + +"I was analyzing, if I remember rightly, the psychological condition +of a criminal at the moment of his deed." + +"Yes, and you strove to prove that a criminal, at such a moment, is +always, mentally, more or less unhinged. That point of view is a very +original one, but it was not this part of your article which most +interested me. I was particularly struck by an idea at the end of the +article, and which, unfortunately, you have touched upon too +cursorily. In a word, if you remember, you maintained that there are +men in existence who can, or more accurately, who have an absolute +right to commit all kinds of wicked and criminal acts--men for whom, +to a certain extent, laws do not exist." + +"Is it not very likely that some coming Napoleon did for Alena +Ivanovna last week?" suddenly blustered Zametoff from his corner. + +Without saying a word, Raskolnikoff fixed on Porphyrius a firm and +penetrating glance. Raskolnikoff was beginning to look sullen. He +seemed to have been suspecting something for some time past. He looked +round him with an irritable air. For a moment there was an ominous +silence. Raskolnikoff was getting ready to go. + +"What, are you off already?" asked Porphyrius, kindly offering the +young man his hand with extreme affability. "I am delighted to have +made your acquaintance. And as for your application, don't be uneasy +about it. Write in the way I suggested. Or, perhaps, you had better do +this. Come and see me before long--to-morrow, if you like. I shall be +here without fail at eleven o'clock. We can make everything +right--we'll have a chat--and as you were one of the last that went +_there_, you might be able to give some further particulars?" he +added, with his friendly smile. + +"Do you wish to examine me formally?" Raskolnikoff inquired, in an +uncomfortable tone. + +"Why should I? Such a thing is out of the question. You have +misunderstood me. I ought to tell you that I manage to make the most +of every opportunity. I have already had a chat with every single +person that has been in the habit of pledging things with the old +woman--several have given me very useful information--and as you +happen to be the last one--By the by," he exclaimed, with sudden +pleasure, "how lucky I am thinking about it, I was really going to +forget it!" (Saying which he turned to Razoumikhin.) "You were almost +stunning my ears, the other day, talking about Mikolka. Well, I am +certain, quite certain, as to his innocence," he went on, once more +addressing himself to Raskolnikoff. "But what was to be done? It has +been necessary to disturb Dmitri. Now, what I wanted to ask was: On +going upstairs--was it not between seven and eight you entered the +house?" + +"Yes," replied Raskolnikoff, and he immediately regretted an answer he +ought to have avoided. + +"Well, in going upstairs, between seven and eight, did you not see on +the second floor, in one of the rooms, when the door was wide +open--you remember, I dare say?--did you not see two painters, or, at +all events, one of the two? They were whitewashing the room, I +believe; you must have seen them! The matter is of the utmost +importance to them!" + +"Painters, you say? I saw none," replied Raskolnikoff slowly, trying +to sound his memory: for a moment he violently strained it to +discover, as quickly as he could, the trap concealed by the +magistrate's question. "No, I did not see a single one; I did not even +see any room standing open," he went on, delighted at having +discovered the trap, "but on the fourth floor I remember noticing that +the man lodging on the same landing as Alena Ivanovna was in the act +of moving. I remember that very well, as I met a few soldiers carrying +a sofa, and I was obliged to back against the wall; but, as for +painters, I don't remember seeing a single one--I don't even remember +a room that had its door open. No, I saw nothing." + +"But what are you talking about?" all at once exclaimed Razoumikhin, +who, till that moment, had attentively listened; "it was on the very +day of the murder that painters were busy in that room, while he came +there two days previously! Why are you asking that question?" + +"Right! I have confused the dates!" cried Porphyrius, tapping his +forehead. "Deuce take me! That job makes me lose my head!" he added by +way of excuse, and speaking to Raskolnikoff. "It is very important +that we should know if anybody saw them in that room between seven and +eight. I thought I might have got that information from you without +thinking any more about it. I had positively confused the days!" + +"You ought to be more attentive!" grumbled Razoumikhin. + +These last words were uttered in the anteroom, as Porphyrius very +civilly led his visitors to the door. They were gloomy and morose on +leaving the house, and had gone some distance before speaking. +Raskolnikoff breathed like a man who had just been subjected to a +severe trial. + +When, on the following day, precisely at eleven o'clock, Raskolnikoff +called on the examining magistrate, he was astonished to have to dance +attendance for a considerable time. According to his idea, he ought to +have been admitted immediately; ten minutes, however, elapsed before +he could see Porphyrius Petrovitch. In the outer room where he had +been waiting, people came and went without heeding him in the least. +In the next room, which was a kind of office, a few clerks were at +work, and it was evident that not one of them had even an idea who +Raskolnikoff might be. The young man cast a mistrustful look about +him. "Was there not," thought he, "some spy, some mysterious myrmidon +of the law, ordered to watch him, and, if necessary, to prevent his +escape?" But he noticed nothing of the kind; the clerks were all hard +at work, and the other people paid him no kind of attention. The +visitor began to become reassured. "If," thought he, "this mysterious +personage of yesterday, this specter which had risen from the bowels +of the earth, knew all, and had seen all, would they, I should like to +know, let me stand about like this? Would they not rather have +arrested me, instead of waiting till I should come of my own accord? +Hence this man has either made no kind of revelation as yet about me, +or, more probably, he knows nothing, and has seen nothing (besides how +could he have seen anything?): consequently I have misjudged, and all +that happened yesterday was nothing but an illusion of my diseased +imagination." This explanation, which had offered itself the day +before to his mind, at the time he felt most fearful, he considered a +more likely one. + +Whilst thinking about all this and getting ready for a new struggle, +Raskolnikoff suddenly perceived that he was trembling; he became +indignant at the very thought that it was fear of an interview with +the hateful Porphyrius Petrovitch which led him to do so. The most +terrible thing to him was to find himself once again in presence of +this man. He hated him beyond all expression, and what he dreaded was +lest he might show this hatred. His indignation was so great that it +suddenly stopped this trembling; he therefore prepared himself to +enter with a calm and self-possessed air, promised himself to speak as +little as possible, to be very carefully on the watch in order to +check, above all things, his irascible disposition. In the midst of +these reflections, he was introduced to Porphyrius Petrovitch. The +latter was alone in his office, a room of medium dimensions, +containing a large table, facing a sofa covered with shiny leather, a +bureau, a cupboard standing in a corner, and a few chairs: all this +furniture, provided by the State, was of yellow wood. In the wall, or +rather in the wainscoting of the other end, there was a closed door, +which led one to think that there were other rooms behind it. As soon +as Porphyrius Petrovitch had seen Raskolnikoff enter his office, he +went to close the door which had given him admission, and both stood +facing one another. The magistrate received his visitor to all +appearances in a pleasant and affable manner, and it was only at the +expiration of a few moments that the latter observed the magistrate's +somewhat embarrassed manner--he seemed to have been disturbed in a +more or less clandestine occupation. + +"Good! my respectable friend! Here you are then--in our latitudes!" +commenced Porphyrius, holding out both hands. "Pray, be seated, +_batuchka_! But, perhaps, you don't like being called respectable? +Therefore, _batuchka_, for short! Pray, don't think me familiar. Sit +down here on the sofa." + +Raskolnikoff did so without taking his eyes off the judge. "These +words 'in our latitudes,' these excuses for his familiarity, this +expression 'for short,' what could be the meaning of all this? He held +out his hands to me without shaking mine, withdrawing them before I +could do so," thought Raskolnikoff mistrustfully. Both watched each +other, but no sooner did their eyes meet than they both turned them +aside with the rapidity of a flash of lightning. + +"I have called with this paper--about the---- If you please. Is it +correct, or must another form be drawn up?" "What, what paper? Oh, +yes! Do not put yourself out. It is perfectly correct," answered +Porphyrius somewhat hurriedly, before he had even examined it; then, +after having cast a glance on it, he said, speaking very rapidly: +"Quite right, that is all that is required," and placed the sheet on +the table. A moment later he locked it up in his bureau, chattering +about other things. + +"Yesterday," observed Raskolnikoff, "you had, I fancy, a wish to +examine me formally--with reference to my dealings with--the victim? +At least so it seemed to me!" + +"Why did I say, 'So it seemed?'" reflected the young man all of a +sudden. "After all, what can be the harm of it? Why should I distress +myself about that!" he added, mentally, a moment afterwards. The very +fact of his proximity to Porphyrius, with whom he had scarcely as yet +interchanged a word, had immeasurably increased his mistrust; he +marked this in a moment, and concluded that such a mood was an +exceedingly dangerous one, inasmuch as his agitation, his nervous +irritation, would only increase. "That is bad! very bad! I shall be +saying something thoughtless!" + +"Quite right. But do not put yourself out of the way, there is time, +plenty of time," murmured Petrovitch, who, without apparent design, +kept going to and fro, now approaching the window, now his bureau, to +return a moment afterwards to the table. At times he would avoid +Raskolnikoff's suspicious look, at times again he drew up sharp whilst +looking his visitor straight in the face. The sight of this short +chubby man, whose movements recalled those of a ball rebounding from +wall to wall, was an extremely odd one. "No hurry, no hurry, I assure +you! But you smoke, do you not! Have you any tobacco? Here is a +cigarette!" he went on, offering his visitor a paquitos. "You notice +that I am receiving you here, but my quarters are there behind the +wainscoting. The State provides me with that. I am here as it were on +the wing, because certain alterations are being made in my rooms. +Everything is almost straight now. Do you know that quarters provided +by the State are by no means to be despised?" + +"I believe you," answered Raskolnikoff, looking at him almost +derisively. + +"Not to be despised, by any means," repeated Porphyrius Petrovitch, +whose mind seemed to be preoccupied with something else--"not to be +despised!" he continued in a very loud tone of voice, and drawing +himself up close to Raskolnikoff, whom he stared out of countenance. +The incessant repetition of the statement that quarters provided by +the State were by no means to be despised contrasted singularly, by +its platitude, with the serious, profound, enigmatical look he now +cast on his visitor. + +Raskolnikoff's anger grew in consequence; he could hardly help +returning the magistrate's look with an imprudently scornful glance, +"Is it true?" the latter commenced, with a complacently insolent air, +"is it true that it is a judicial maxim, a maxim resorted to by all +magistrates, to begin an interview about trifling things, or even, +occasionally, about more serious matter, foreign to the main question +however, with a view to embolden, to distract, or even to lull the +suspicion of a person under examination, and then all of a sudden to +crush him with the main question, just as you strike a man a blow +straight between the eyes?" + +"Such a custom, I believe, is religiously observed in your profession, +is it not?" + +"Then you are of opinion that when I spoke to you about quarters +provided by the State, I did so----" Saying which, Porphyrius +Petrovitch blinked, his face assumed for a moment an expression of +roguish gayety, the wrinkles on his brow became smoothed, his small +eyes grew smaller still, his features expanded, and, looking +Raskolnikoff straight in the face, he burst out into a prolonged fit +of nervous laughter, which shook him from head to foot. The young man, +on his part, laughed likewise, with more or less of an effort, +however, at sight of which Porphyrius's hilarity increased to such an +extent that his face grew nearly crimson. At this Raskolnikoff +experienced more or less aversion, which led him to forget all +caution; he ceased laughing, knitting his brows, and, whilst +Porphyrius gave way to his hilarity, which seemed a somewhat feigned +one, he fixed on him a look of hatred. In truth, they were both off +their guard. Porphyrius had, in fact, laughed at his visitor, who had +taken this in bad part; whereas the former seemed to care but little +about Raskolnikoff's displeasure. This circumstance gave the young man +much matter for thought. He fancied that his visit had in no kind of +way discomposed the magistrate; on the contrary, it was Raskolnikoff +who had been caught in a trap, a snare, an ambush of some kind or +other. The mine was, perhaps, already charged, and might burst at any +moment. + +Anxious to get straight to the point, Raskolnikoff rose and took up +his cap. "Porphyrius Petrovitch," he cried, in a resolute tone of +voice, betraying more or less irritation, "yesterday you expressed the +desire to subject me to a judicial examination." (He laid special +stress on this last word.) "I have called at your bidding; if you have +questions to put, do so: if not, allow me to withdraw. I can't afford +to waste my time here, as I have other things to attend to. In a word, +I must go to the funeral of the official who has been run over, and of +whom you have heard speak," he added, regretting, however, the last +part of his sentence. Then, with increasing anger, he went on: "Let me +tell you that all this worries me! The thing is hanging over much too +long. It is that mainly that has made me ill. In one word,"--he +continued, his voice seeming more and more irritable, for he felt that +the remark about his illness was yet more out of place than the +previous one--"in one word, either be good enough to cross-examine me, +or let me go this very moment. If you do question me, do so in the +usual formal way; otherwise, I shall object. In the meanwhile, adieu, +since we have nothing more to do with one another." + +"Good gracious! What can you be talking about? Question you about +what?" replied the magistrate, immediately ceasing his laugh. "Don't, +I beg, disturb yourself." He requested Raskolnikoff to sit down once +more, continuing, nevertheless, his tramp about the room. "There is +time, plenty of time. The matter is not of such importance after all. +On the contrary, I am delighted at your visit--for as such do I take +your call. As for my horrid way of laughing, _batuchka_, Rodion +Romanovitch, I must apologize. I am a nervous man, and the shrewdness +of your observations has tickled me. There are times when I go up and +down like an elastic ball, and that for half an hour at a time. I am +fond of laughter. My temperament leads me to dread apoplexy. But, +pray, do sit down--why remain standing? Do, I must request you, +_batuchka_; otherwise I shall fancy that you are cross." + +His brows still knit, Raskolnikoff held his tongue, listened, and +watched. In the meanwhile he sat down. + +"As far as I am concerned, _batuchka_, Rodion Romanovitch, I will tell +you something which shall reveal to you my disposition," answered +Porphyrius Petrovitch, continuing to fidget about the room, and, as +before, avoiding his visitor's gaze. "I live alone, you must know, +never go into society, and am, therefore, unknown; add to which, that +I am a man on the shady side of forty, somewhat played out. You may +have noticed, Rodion Romanovitch, that here--I mean in Russia, of +course, and especially in St. Petersburg circles--that when two +intelligent men happen to meet who, as yet, are not familiar, but who, +however, have mutual esteem--as, for instance, you and I have at this +moment--don't know what to talk about for half an hour at a time. They +seem, both of them, as if petrified. Everyone else has a subject for +conversation--ladies, for instance, people in society, the upper +ten--all these sets have some topic or other. It is the thing, but +somehow people of the middle-class, like you and I, seem constrained +and taciturn. How does that come about, _batuchka_? Have we no social +interests? Or is it, rather, owing to our being too straightforward to +mislead one another? I don't know. What is your opinion, pray? But do, +I beg, remove your cap; one would really fancy that you wanted to be +off, and that pains me. I, you must know, am so contented." + +Raskolnikoff laid his cap down. He did not, however, become more +loquacious; and, with knit brows, listened to Porphyrius's idle +chatter. "I suppose," thought he, "he only doles out his small talk to +distract my attention." + +"I don't offer you any coffee," went on the inexhaustible Porphyrius, +"because this is not the place for it, but can you not spend a few +minutes with a friend, by way of causing him some little distraction? +You must know that all these professional obligations--don't be vexed, +_batuchka_, if you see me walking about like this, I am sure you will +excuse me, if I tell you how anxious I am not to do so, but movement +is so indispensable to me! I am always seated--and, to me, it is quite +a luxury to be able to move about for a minute or two. I purpose, in +fact, to go through a course of calisthenics. The trapeze is said to +stand in high favor amongst State counselors--counselors in office, +even amongst privy counselors. Nowadays, in fact, gymnastics have +become a positive science. As for these duties of our office, these +examinations, all this formality--you yourself, you will remember, +touched upon the topic just now, _batuchka_--these examinations, and +so forth, sometimes perplex the magistrate much more than the man +under suspicion. You said as much just now with as much sense as +accuracy." (Raskolnikoff had made no statement of the kind.) "One gets +confused, one loses the thread of the investigation. Yet, as far as +our judicial customs go, I agree with you fully. Where, for instance, +is there a man under suspicion of some kind or other, were it even the +most thick-headed moujik, who does not know that the magistrate will +commence by putting all sorts of out-of-the-way questions to take him +off the scent (if I may be allowed to use your happy simile), and that +then he suddenly gives him one between the eyes? A blow of the ax on +his sinciput (if again I may be permitted to use your ingenious +metaphor)? Hah, hah! And do you mean to say that when I spoke to you +about quarters provided by the State, that--hah, hah! You are very +caustic. But I won't revert to that again. By-and-by!--one remark +produces another, one thought attracts another--but you were talking +just now of the practice or form in vogue with the examining +magistrate. But what is this form? You know as I do that in many cases +the form means nothing at all. Occasionally a simple conversation, a +friendly interview, brings about a more certain result. The practice +or form will never die out--I can vouch for that; but what, after all, +is the form, I ask once more? You can't compel an examining magistrate +to be hampered or bound by it everlastingly. His duty or method is, in +its way, one of the liberal professions or something very much like +it." + +Porphyrius Petrovitch stopped a moment to take breath. He kept on +talking, now uttering pure nonsense, now again introducing, in spite +of this trash, an occasional enigmatical remark, after which he went +on with his insipidities. His tramp about the room was more like a +race--he moved his stout legs more and more quickly, without looking +up; his right hand was thrust deep in the pocket of his coat, whilst +with the left he unceasingly gesticulated in a way unconnected with +his observations. Raskolnikoff noticed, or fancied he noticed, that, +whilst running round and round the room, he had twice stopped near the +door, seeming to listen. "Does he expect something?" he asked himself. + +"You're perfectly right," resumed Porphyrius cheerily, whilst looking +at the young man with a kindliness which immediately awoke the +latter's distrust. "Our judicial customs deserve your satire. Our +proceedings, which are supposed to be inspired by a profound knowledge +of psychology, are very ridiculous ones, and very often useless. Now, +to return to our method or form: Suppose for a moment that I am +deputed to investigate something or other, and that I know the guilty +person to be a certain gentleman. Are you not yourself reading for the +law, Rodion Romanovitch?" + +"I was some time ago." + +"Well, here is a kind of example which may be of use to you later on. +Don't run away with the idea that I am setting up as your +instructor--God forbid that I should presume to teach anything to a +man who treats criminal questions in the public press! Oh, no!--all I +am doing is to quote to you, by way of example, a trifling fact. +Suppose that I fancy I am convinced of the guilt of a certain man, +why, I ask you, should I frighten him prematurely, assuming me to have +every evidence against him? Of course, in the case of another man of a +different disposition, him I would have arrested forthwith; but, as to +the former, why should I not permit him to hang about a little longer? +I see you do not quite take me. I will, therefore, endeavor to explain +myself more clearly! If, for instance, I should be too quick in +issuing a writ, I provide him in doing so with a species of moral +support or mainstay--I see you are laughing?" (Raskolnikoff, on the +contrary, had no such desire; his lips were set, and his glaring look +was not removed from Porphyrius's eyes.) "I assure you that in actual +practice such is really the case; men vary much, although, +unfortunately, our methods are the same for all. But you will ask me: +Supposing you are certain of your proofs? Goodness me, _batuchka_! you +know, perhaps as well as I do, what proofs are--half one's time, +proofs may be taken either way; and I, a magistrate, am, after all, +only a man liable to error. + +"Now, what I want is to give to my investigation the precision of a +mathematical demonstration--I want my conclusions to be as plain, as +indisputable, as that twice two are four. Now, supposing I have this +gentleman arrested prematurely, though I may be positively certain +that he is _the man,_ yet I deprive myself of all future means of +proving his guilt. How is that? Because, so to say, I give him, to a +certain extent, a definite status; for, by putting him in prison, I +pacify him. I give him the chance of investigating his actual state of +mind--he will escape me, for he will reflect. In a word, he knows that +he is a prisoner, and nothing more. If, on the contrary, I take no +kind of notice of the man I fancy guilty, if I do not have him +arrested, if I in no way set him on his guard--but if the unfortunate +creature is hourly, momentarily, possessed by the suspicion that I +know all, that I do not lose sight of him either by night or by day, +that he is the object of my indefatigable vigilance--what do you ask +will take place under these circumstances? He will lose his +self-possession, he will come of his own accord to me, he will provide +me with ample evidence against himself, and will enable me to give to +the conclusion of my inquiry the accuracy of mathematical proofs, +which is not without its charm. + +"If such a course succeeds with an uncultured moujik, it is equally +efficacious when it concerns an enlightened, intelligent, or even +distinguished man. For the main thing, my dear friend, is to determine +in what sense a man is developed. The man, I mean, is intelligent, but +he has nerves which are _over_-strung. And as for bile--the bile you +are forgetting, that plays no small part with similar folk! Believe +me, here we have a very mine of information! And what is it to me +whether such a man walk about the place in perfect liberty? Let him be +at ease--I know him to be my prey, and that he won't escape me! Where, +I ask you, could he go to? You may say abroad. A Pole may do so--but +my man, never! especially as I watch him, and have taken steps in +consequence. Is he likely to escape into the very heart of our +country? Not he! for there dwell coarse moujiks, and primitive +Russians, without any kind of civilization. My educated friend would +prefer going to prison, rather than be in the midst of such +surroundings. Besides, what I have been saying up to the present is +not the main point--it is the exterior and accessory aspect of the +question. He won't escape--not only because he won't know where to go +to, but especially, and above all, because he is mine from the +_psychological_ point of view. What do you think of this explanation? +In virtue of a natural law, he will not escape, even if he could do +so! Have you ever seen a butterfly close to the candle? My man will +hover incessantly round me in the same way as the butterfly gyrates +round the candle-light. Liberty will have no longer charms for him; he +will grow more and more restless, more and more amazed--let me but +give him plenty of time, and he will demean himself in a way to prove +his guilt as plainly as that twice two our four! Yes, he will keep +hovering about me, describing circles, smaller and smaller, till at +last--bang! He has flown into my clutches, and I have got him. That is +very nice. You don't think so, perhaps?" + +Raskolnikoff kept silent. Pale and immovable, he continued to watch +Porphyrius's face with a labored effort of attention. "The lesson is a +good one!" he reflected. "But it is not, as yesterday, a case of the +cat playing with the mouse. Of course, he does not talk to me in this +way for the mere pleasure of showing me his hand; he is much too +intelligent for that. He must have something else in view--what can it +be? Come, friend, what you do say is only to frighten me. You have no +kind of evidence, and the man of yesterday does not exist! All you +wish is to perplex me--to enrage me, so as to enable you to make your +last move, should you catch me in such a mood, but you will not; all +your pains will be in vain! But why should he speak in such covert +terms? I presume he must be speculating on the excitability of my +nervous system. But, dear friend, that won't go down, in spite of your +machinations. We will try and find out what you really have been +driving at." + +And he prepared to brave boldly the terrible catastrophe he +anticipated. Occasionally the desire came upon him to rush on +Porphyrius, and to strangle him there and then. From the first moment +of having entered the magistrate's office what he had dreaded most +was, lest he might lose his temper. He felt his heart beating +violently, his lips become parched, his spittle congealed. He +resolved, however, to hold his tongue, knowing that, under the +circumstances, such would be the best tactics. By similar means, he +felt sure that he would not only not become compromised, but that he +might succeed in exasperating his enemy, in order to let him drop some +imprudent observation. This, at all events, was Raskolnikoff's hope. + +"I see you don't believe, you think I am jesting," continued +Porphyrius, more and more at his ease, without ceasing to indulge in +his little laugh, whilst continuing his perambulation about the room. +"You may be right. God has given me a face which only arouses comical +thoughts in others. I'm a buffoon. But excuse an old man's cackle. +You, Rodion Romanovitch, you are in your prime, and, like all young +people, you appreciate, above all things, human intelligence. +Intellectual smartness and abstract rational deductions entice you. +But, to return to the _special case_ we were talking about just now. I +must tell you that we have to deal with reality, with nature. This is +a very important thing, and how admirably does she often foil the +highest skill! Listen to an old man; I am speaking quite seriously, +Rodion"--(on saying which Porphyrius Petrovitch, who was hardly +thirty-five years of age, seemed all of a sudden to have aged, a +sudden metamorphosis had taken place in the whole of his person, nay, +in his very voice)--"to an old man who, however, is not wanting in +candor. Am I or am I not candid? What do you think? It seems to me +that a man could hardly be more so--for do I not reveal confidence, +and that without the prospect of reward? But, to continue, acuteness +of mind is, in my opinion, a very fine thing; it is to all intents and +purposes an ornament of nature, one of the consolations of life by +means of which it would appear a poor magistrate can be easily gulled, +who, after all, is often misled by his own imagination, for he is only +human. But nature comes to the aid of this human magistrate! There's +the rub! And youth, so confident in its own intelligence, youth which +tramples under foot every obstacle, forgets this! + +"Now, in the _special case_ under consideration, the guilty man, I +will assume, lies hard and fast, but, when he fancies that all that is +left him will be to reap the reward of his mendacity, behold, he will +succumb in the very place where such an accident is likely to be most +closely analyzed. Assuming even that he may be in a position to +account for his syncope by illness or the stifling atmosphere of the +locality, he has none the less given rise to suspicion! He has lied +incomparably, but he has counted without nature. Here is the pitfall! +Again, a man off his guard, from an unwary disposition, may delight in +mystifying another who suspects him, and may wantonly pretend to be +the very criminal wanted by the authorities; in such a case, he will +represent the person in question a little too closely, he will place +his foot a little too naturally. Here we have another token. For the +nonce his interlocutor may be duped; but, being no fool, he will on +the morrow have seen through the subterfuge. Then will our friend +become compromised more and more! He will come of his own accord when +he is not even called, he will use all kinds of impudent words, +remarks, allegories, the meaning of which will be clear to everybody; +he will even go so far as to come and ask why he has not been arrested +as yet--hah! hah! And such a line of conduct may occur to a person of +keen intellect, yes, even to a man of psychologic mind! Nature, my +friend, is the most transparent of mirrors. To contemplate her is +sufficient. But why do you grow pale, Rodion Romanovitch? Perhaps you +are too hot; shall I open the window?" + +"By no means, I beg!" cried Raskolnikoff, bursting out laughing. +"Don't heed me, pray!" Porphyrius stopped short, waited a moment, and +burst out laughing himself. Raskolnikoff, whose hilarity had suddenly +died out, rose. "Porphyrius Petrovitch," he shouted in a clear and +loud voice, although he could scarcely stand on his trembling legs, "I +can no longer doubt that you suspect me of having assassinated this +old woman as well as her sister, Elizabeth. Let me tell you that for +some time I have had enough of this. If you think you have the right +to hunt me down, to have me arrested, hunt me down, have me arrested. +But you shall not trifle with me, you shall not torture me." Suddenly +his lips quivered, his eyes gleamed, and his voice, which up to that +moment had been self-possessed, reached its highest diapason. "I will +not permit it," he yelled hoarsely, whilst striking a violent blow on +the table. "Do you hear me, Porphyrius Petrovitch, I shall not permit +this!" + +"But, goodness gracious! what on earth is wrong with you?" asked the +magistrate, disturbed to all appearances. "_Batuchka_! Rodion +Romanovitch! My good friend! What on earth is the matter with you?" + +"I will not permit it!" repeated Raskolnikoff once again. + +"_Batuchka!_ not so loud, I must request! Someone will hear you, +someone may come; and then, what shall we say? Just reflect one +moment!" murmured Porphyrius Petrovitch, whose face had approached +that of his visitor. + +"I will not permit it, I will not permit it!" mechanically pursued +Raskolnikoff, but in a minor key, so as to be heard by Porphyrius +only. + +The latter moved away to open the window. "Let us air the room! +Supposing you were to drink some water, dear friend? You have had a +slight fit!" He was on the point of going to the door to give his +orders to a servant, when he saw a water bottle in a corner. "Drink, +_batuchka_!" he murmured, whilst approaching the young man with the +bottle, "that may do you some good." + +Porphyrius's fright seemed so natural that Raskolnikoff remained +silent whilst examining him with curiosity. He refused, however, the +proffered water. + +"Rodion Romanovitch! My dear friend! If you go on in this way, you +will go mad, I am positive! Drink, pray, if only a few drops!" He +almost forced the glass of water into his hand. Raskolnikoff raised it +mechanically to his lips, when suddenly he thought better of it, and +replaced it on the table with disgust. "Yes, yes, you have had a +slight fit. One or two more, my friend, and you will have another +attack of your malady," observed the magistrate in the kindest tone of +voice, appearing greatly agitated. "Is it possible that people can +take so little care of themselves? It was the same with Dmitri +Prokofitch, who called here yesterday. I admit mine to be a caustic +temperament, that mine is a horrid disposition, but that such a +meaning could possibly be attributed to harmless remarks. He called +here yesterday, when you had gone, and in the course of dinner he +talked, talked. You had sent him, had you not? But do sit down, +_batuchka!_ do sit down, for heaven's sake!" + +"I did not indeed!--although I knew that he had called, and his object +in doing so!" replied Raskolnikoff dryly. + +"Did you really know why?" + +"I did. And what did you gather from it?" + +"I gathered from it, _batuchka!_ Rodion Romanovitch, the knowledge of +a good many of your doings--in fact, I know all! I know that you went, +towards nightfall, _to hire the lodgings._ I know that you pulled the +bell, and that a question of yours in connection with bloodstains, as +well as your manner, frightened both journeymen and dvorniks. I know +what was your mood at the time. Excitement of such a kind will drive +you out of your mind, be assured. A praiseworthy indignation is at +work within you, complaining now as to destiny, now on the subject of +police agents. You keep going here and there to induce people as far +as possible to formulate their accusations. This stupid kind of +tittle-tattle is hateful to you, and you are anxious to put a stop to +it as soon as possible. Am I right? Have I laid finger on the +sentiments which actuate you? But you are not satisfied by turning +your own brain, you want to do, or rather do, the same thing to my +good Razoumikhin. Really, it is a pity to upset so good a fellow! His +kindness exposes him more than anyone else to suffer contagion from +your own malady. But you shall know all as soon as you shall be +calmer. Pray, therefore, once again sit down, _batuchka_! Try and +recover your spirits--you seem quite unhinged." + +Raskolnikoff rose while looking at him with an air full of contempt. +"Tell me once for all," asked the latter, "tell me one way or other, +whether I am in your opinion an object for suspicion? Speak up, +Porphyrius Petrovitch, and explain yourself without any more beating +about the bush, and that forthwith!" + +"Just one word, Rodion Romanovitch. This affair will end as God knows +best; but still, by way of form, I may have to ask you a few more +questions. Hence we are certain to meet again!" And with a smile +Porphyrius stopped before the young man. "Certain!" he repeated. One +might have fancied that he wished to say something more. But he did +not do so. + +"Forgive my strange manner just now, Porphyrius Petrovitch, I was +hasty," began Raskolnikoff, who had regained all his self-possession, +and who even experienced an irresistible wish to chaff the magistrate. + +"Don't say any more, it was nothing," replied Porphyrius in almost +joyful tone. "Till we meet again!" + +"Till we meet again!" + +The young man forthwith went home. Having got there, he threw himself +on his couch, and for a quarter of an hour he tried to arrange his +ideas somewhat, inasmuch as they were very confused. + +Within a few days Raskolnikoff convinced himself that Porphyrius +Petrovitch had no real proofs. Deciding to go out, in search of fresh +air, he took up his cap and made for the door, deep in thought. For +the first time he felt in the best of health, really well. He opened +the door, and encountered Porphyrius face to face. The latter entered. + +Raskolnikoff staggered for a moment, but quickly recovered. The visit +did not dismay him. "Perhaps this is the finale, but why does he come +upon me like a cat, with muffled tread? Can he have been listening?" + +"I have been thinking for a long time of calling on you, and, as I was +passing, I thought I might drop in for a few minutes. Where are you +off to? I won't detain you long, only the time to smoke a cigarette, +if you will allow me?" + +"Be seated, Porphyrius Petrovitch, be seated," said Raskolnikoff to +his guest, assuming such an air of friendship that he himself could +have been astonished at his own affability. Thus the victim, in fear +and trembling for his life, at last does not feel the knife at his +throat. He seated himself in front of Porphyrius, and gazed upon him +without flinching. Porphyrius blinked a little, and commenced rolling +his cigarette. + +"Speak! speak!" Raskolnikoff mutely cried in his heart. "What are you +going to say?" + +"Oh, these cigarettes!" Porphyrius Petrovitch commenced at last, +"they'll be the death of me, and yet I can't give them up! I am always +coughing--a tickling in the throat is setting in, and I am +asthmatical. I have been to consult Botkine of late; he examines every +one of his patients at least half an hour at a time. After having +thumped and bumped me about for ever so long, he told me, amongst +other things: 'Tobacco is a bad thing for you--your lungs are +affected.' That's all very well, but how am I to go without my +tobacco? What am I to use as a substitute? Unfortunately, I can't +drink, hah! hah! Everything is relative, I suppose, Rodion +Romanovitch?" + +"There, he is beginning with some more of his silly palaver!" +Raskolnikoff growled to himself. His late interview with the +magistrate suddenly occurred to him, at which anger affected his mind. + +"Did you know, by-the-by, that I called on you the night before last?" +continued Porphyrius, looking about. "I was in this very room. I +happened to be coming this way, just as I am going to-day, and the +idea struck me to drop in. Your door was open--I entered, hoping to +see you in a few minutes, but went away again without leaving my name +with your servant. Do you never shut your place?" + +Raskolnikoff's face grew gloomier and gloomier. Porphyrius Petrovitch +evidently guessed what the latter was thinking about. + +"You did not expect visitors, Rodion Romanovitch?" said Porphyrius, +smiling graciously. + +"I have called just to clear things up a bit. I owe you an +explanation," he went on, smiling and gently slapping the young man on +the knee; but almost at the self-same moment his face assumed a +serious and even sad expression, to Raskolnikoff's great astonishment, +to whom the magistrate appeared in quite a different light. "At our +last interview, an unusual scene took place between us, Rodion. I +somehow feel that I did not behave very well to you. You remember, I +dare say, how we parted; we were both more or less excited. I fear we +were wanting in the most common courtesy, and yet we are both of us +gentlemen." + +"What can he be driving at now?" Raskolnikoff asked himself, looking +inquiringly at Porphyrius. + +"I have come to the conclusion that it would be much better for us to +be more candid to one another," continued the magistrate, turning his +head gently aside and looking on the ground, as if he feared to annoy +his former victim by his survey. "We must not have scenes of that kind +again. If Mikolka had not turned up on that occasion, I really do not +know how things would have ended. You are naturally, my dear Rodion, +very irritable, and I must own that I had taken that into +consideration, for, when driven in a corner, many a man lets out his +secrets. 'If,' I said to myself, 'I could only squeeze some kind of +evidence out of him, however trivial, provided it were real, tangible, +and palpable, different from all my psychological inferences!' That +was my idea. Sometimes we succeed by some such proceeding, but +unfortunately that does not happen every day, as I conclusively +discovered on the occasion in question, I had relied too much on your +character." + +"But why tell me all this now?" stammered Raskolnikoff, without in any +way understanding the object of his interlocutor's question. "Does he, +perhaps, think me really innocent?" + +"You wish to know why I tell you this? Because I look upon it as a +sacred duty to explain my line of action. Because I subjected you, as +I now fully acknowledge, to cruel torture. I do not wish, my dear +Rodion, that you should take me for an ogre. Hence, by way of +justification, I purpose explaining to you what led up to it. I think +it needless to account for the nature and origin of the reports which +circulated originally, as also why you were connected with them. There +was, however, one circumstance, a purely fortuitous one, and which +need not now be mentioned, which aroused my suspicions. From these +reports and accidental circumstances, the same conclusion became +evolved for me. I make this statement in all sincerity, for it was I +who first implicated you with the matter. I do not in any way notice +the particulars notified on the articles found at the old woman's. +That, and several others of a similar nature, are of no kind of +importance. At the same time, I was aware of the incident which had +happened at the police office. What occurred there has been told me +with the utmost accuracy by some one who had been closely connected +with it, and who, most unwittingly, had brought things to a head. Very +well, then, how, under such circumstances, could a man help becoming +biased? 'One swallow does not make a summer,' as the English proverb +says: a hundred suppositions do not constitute one single proof. +Reason speaks in that way, I admit, but let a man try to subject +prejudice to reason. An examining magistrate, after all, is only a +man--hence given to prejudice. + +"I also remembered, on the occasion in question, the article you had +published in some review. That virgin effort of yours, I assure you, I +greatly enjoyed--as an amateur, however, be it understood. It was +redolent of sincere conviction, of genuine enthusiasm. The article was +evidently written some sleepless night under feverish conditions. That +author, I said to myself, while reading it, will do better things than +that. How now, I ask you, could I avoid connecting that with what +followed upon it? Such a tendency was but a natural one. Am I saying +anything I should not? Am I at this moment committing myself to any +definite statement? I do no more than give utterance to a thought +which struck me at the time. What may I be thinking about now? +Nothing--or, at all events, what is tantamount to it. For the time +being, I have to deal with Mikolka; there are facts which implicate +him--what are facts, after all? If I tell you all this now, as I am +doing, I do so, I assure you, most emphatically, so that your mind and +conscience may absolve me from my behavior on the day of our +interview. 'Why,' you will ask, 'did you not come on that occasion and +have my place searched?' I did so, hah! hah! I went when you were ill +in bed--but, let me tell you, not officially, not in my magisterial +capacity; but go I did. We had your rooms turned topsy-turvy at our +very first suspicions, but _umsonst_! Then I said to myself: 'That man +will make me a call, he will come of his own accord, and that before +very long! If he is guilty, he will be bound to come. Other kinds of +men would not do so, but this one will.' + +"And you remember, of course, Mr. Razoumikhin's chattering? We had +purposely informed him of some of our suspicions, hoping that he might +make you uneasy, for we knew perfectly well that Razoumikhin would not +be able to contain his indignation. Zametoff, in particular, had been +struck by your boldness, and it certainly was a bold thing for a +person to exclaim all of a sudden in an open _traktir_: 'I am an +assassin!' That was really too much of a good thing. Well, I waited +for you with trusting patience, and, lo and behold, Providence sends +you! How my heart did beat when I saw you coming! Now, I ask you, +where was the need of your coming at that time at all? If you +remember, you came in laughing immoderately. That laughter gave me +food for thought, but, had I not been very prejudiced at the time, I +should have taken no notice of it. And as for Mr. Razoumikhin on that +occasion--ah! the stone, the stone, you will remember, under which the +stolen things are hidden? I fancy I can see it from here; it is +somewhere in a kitchen garden--it was a kitchen garden you mentioned +to Zametoff, was it not? And then, when your article was broached, we +fancied we discovered a latent thought beneath every word you uttered. +That was the way, Rodion Romanovitch, that my conviction grew little +by little. 'And yet,' said I to myself, 'all that may be explained in +quite a different way, and perhaps more rationally. After all, a real +proof, however slight, would be far more valuable.' But, when I heard +all about the bell-ringing, my doubts vanished; I fancied I had the +indispensable proof, and did not seem to care for further +investigation. + +"We are face to face with a weird and gloomy case--a case of a +contemporary character, if I may say so--a case possessing, in the +fullest sense of the word, the hallmark of time, and circumstances +pointing to a person and life of different surroundings. The real +culprit is a theorist, a bookworm, who, in a tentative kind of way, +has done a more than bold thing; but this boldness of his is of quite +a peculiar and one-sided stamp; it is, after a fashion, like that of a +man who hurls himself from the top of a mountain or church steeple. +The man in question has forgotten to cut off evidence, and, in order +to work out a theory, has killed two persons. He has committed a +murder, and yet has not known how to take possession of the pelf; what +he has taken he has hidden under a stone. The anguish he experienced +while hearing knocking at the door and the continued ringing of the +bell, was not enough for him; no, yielding to an irresistible desire +of experiencing the same horror, he has positively revisited the empty +place and once more pulled the bell. Let us, if you like, attribute +the whole of this to disease--to a semidelirious condition--by all +means; but there is yet another point to be considered: he has +committed a murder, and yet continues to look upon himself as a +righteous man!" + +Raskolnikoff trembled in every limb. "Then, who--who is it--that has +committed the murder?" he stammered forth, in jerky accents. + +The examining magistrate sank back in his chair as though astonished +at such a question. "Who committed the murder?" he retorted, as if he +could not believe his own ears. "Why, you--you did, Rodion +Romanovitch! You!--" he added, almost in a whisper, and in a tone of +profound conviction. + +Raskolnikoff suddenly rose, waited for a few moments, and sat down +again, without uttering a single word. All the muscles of his face +were slightly convulsed. + +"Why, I see your lips tremble just as they did the other day," +observed Porphyrius Petrovitch, with an air of interest. "You have +not, I think, thoroughly realized the object of my visit, Rodion +Romanovitch," he pursued, after a moment's silence, "hence your great +astonishment. I have called with the express intention of plain +speaking, and to reveal the truth." + +"It was not I who committed the murder," stammered the young man, +defending himself very much like a child caught in the act of doing +wrong. + +"Yes, yes, it was you, Rodion Romanovitch, it was you, and you alone," +replied the magistrate with severity. "Confess or not, as you think +best; for the time being, that is nothing to me. In either case, my +conviction is arrived at." + +"If that is so, why have you called?" asked Raskolnikoff angrily. "I +once more repeat the question I have put you: If you think me guilty, +why not issue a warrant against me?" + +"What a question! But I will answer you categorically. To begin with, +your arrest would not benefit me!" + +"It would not benefit you? How can that be? From the moment of being +convinced, you ought to----" + +"What is the use of my conviction, after all? For the time being, it +is only built on sand. And why should I have you placed _at rest?_ Of +course, I purpose having you arrested--I have called to give you a +hint to that effect--and yet I do not hesitate to tell you that I +shall gain nothing by it. Considering, therefore, the interest I feel +for you, I earnestly urge you to go and acknowledge your crime. I +called before to give the same advice. It is by far the wisest thing +you can do--for you as well as for myself, who will then wash my hands +of the affair. Now, am I candid enough?" + +Raskolnikoff considered a moment. "Listen to me, Porphyrius +Petrovitch! To use your own statement, you have against me nothing but +psychological sentiments, and yet you aspire to mathematical evidence. +Who has told you that you are absolutely right?" + +"Yes, Rodion Romanovitch, I am absolutely right. I hold a proof! And +this proof I came in possession of the other day: God has sent it me!" + +"What is it?" + +"I shall not tell you, Rodion Romanovitch. But I have no right to +procrastinate. I am going to have you arrested! Judge, therefore: +whatever you purpose doing is not of much importance to me just now; +all I say and have said has been solely done for your interest. The +best alternative is the one I suggest, you may depend on it, Rodion +Romanovitch! When I shall have had you arrested--at the expiration of +a month or two, or even three, if you like--you will remember my +words, and you will confess. You will be led to do so insensibly, +almost without being conscious of it. I am even of opinion that, after +careful consideration, you will make up your mind to make atonement. +You do not believe me at this moment, but wait and see. In truth, +Rodion Romanovitch, suffering is a grand thing. In the mouth of a +coarse man, who deprives himself of nothing, such a statement might +afford food for laughter. Never mind, however, but there lies a theory +in suffering. Mikolka is right. You won't escape, Rodion Romanovitch." + +Raskolnikoff rose and took his cap. Porphyrius Petrovitch did the +same. "Are you going for a walk? The night will be a fine one, as long +as we get no storm. That would be all the better though, as it would +clear the air." + +"Porphyrius Petrovitch," said the young man, in curt and hurried +accents, "do not run away with the idea that I have been making a +confession to-day. You are a strange man, and I have listened to you +from pure curiosity. But remember, I have confessed to nothing. Pray +do not forget that." + +"I shall not forget it, you may depend---- How he is trembling! Don't +be uneasy, my friend--I shall not forget your advice. Take a little +stroll, only do not go beyond certain limits. I must, however, at all +costs," he added with lowered voice, "ask a small favor of you; it is +a delicate one, but has an importance of its own; assuming, although I +would view such a contingency as an improbable one--assuming, during +the next forty-eight hours, the fancy were to come upon you to put an +end to your life (excuse me my foolish supposition), would you mind +leaving behind you something in the shape of a note--a line or +so--pointing to the spot where the stone is?--that would be very +considerate. Well, _au revoir_! May God send you good thoughts!" + +Porphyrius withdrew, avoiding Raskolnikoff's eye. The latter +approached the window, and impatiently waited till, according to his +calculation, the magistrate should be some distance from the house. He +then passed out himself in great haste. + +A few days later, the prophecy of Porphyrius Petrovitch was fulfilled. +Driven by the torment of uncertainty and doubt, Raskolnikoff made up +his mind to confess his crime. Hastening through the streets, and +stumbling up the narrow stairway, he presented himself at the police +office. + +With pale lips and fixed gaze, Raskolnikoff slowly advanced toward +Elia Petrovitch. Resting his head upon the table behind which the +lieutenant was seated, he wished to speak, but could only give vent to +a few unintelligible sounds. + +"You are in pain, a chair! Pray sit down! Some water!" + +Raskolnikoff allowed himself to sink on the chair that was offered +him, but he could not take his eyes off Elia Petrovitch, whose face +expressed a very unpleasant surprise. For a moment both men looked at +one another in silence. Water was brought! + +"It was I--" commenced Raskolnikoff. + +"Drink." + +With a movement of his hand the young man pushed aside the glass which +was offered him; then, in a low-toned but distinct voice he made, with +several interruptions, the following statement:-- + +"_It was I who killed, with a hatchet, the old moneylender and her +sister, Elizabeth, and robbery was my motive_." + +Elia Petrovitch called for assistance. People rushed in from various +directions. Raskolnikoff repeated his confession. + +FOOTNOTES TO _CRIME & PUNISHMENT_: + +[1]: (At the risk of shocking the reader, it has been decided that the +real permanent detective stories of the world were ill represented +without Dostoyevsky's terrible tale of what might be called +"self-detection." If to sensitive readers the story seems so real as +to be hideous, it is well to recall that Dostoyevsky in 1849 +under-went the agony of sentence to death as a revolutionist. Although +the sentence was commuted to hard labor in Siberia, and although six +years later he was freed and again took up his writing, his mind never +rose from beneath the weight of horror and hopelessness that hangs +over offenders against the Great White Czar. Dostoyevsky, sentenced as +a criminal, herded with criminals, really _became_ a criminal in +literary imagination. Add to this a minute observation, a marvelous +memory, ardent political convictions--and we can understand why the +story here, with others of his, is taken as a scientific text by +criminologists.--EDITOR.) + +[2]: 1,000 yards. + +[3]: Janitors. + +[4]: little father + +[5]: Cabbage soup. + + + +ANTON CHEKHOFF + + +_THE SAFETY MATCH_ + + +On the morning of October 6, 1885, in the office of the Inspector of +Police of the second division of S---- District, there appeared a +respectably dressed young man, who announced that his master, Marcus +Ivanovitch Klausoff, a retired officer of the Horse Guards, separated +from his wife, had been murdered. While making this announcement the +young man was white and terribly agitated. His hands trembled and his +eyes were full of terror. + +"Whom have I the honor of addressing?" asked the inspector. + +"Psyekoff, Lieutenant Klausoff's agent; agriculturist and +mechanician!" + +The inspector and his deputy, on visiting the scene of the occurrence +in company with Psyekoff, found the following: Near the wing in which +Klausoff had lived was gathered a dense crowd. The news of the murder +had sped swift as lightning through the neighborhood, and the +peasantry, thanks to the fact that the day was a holiday, had hurried +together from all the neighboring villages. There was much commotion +and talk. Here and there, pale, tear-stained faces were seen. The door +of Klausoff's bedroom was found locked. The key was inside. + +"It is quite clear that the scoundrels got in by the window!" said +Psyekoff as they examined the door. + +They went to the garden, into which the bedroom window opened. The +window looked dark and ominous. It was covered by a faded green +curtain. One corner of the curtain was slightly turned up, which made +it possible to look into the bedroom. + +"Did any of you look into the window?" asked the inspector. + +"Certainly not, your worship!" answered Ephraim, the gardener, a +little gray-haired old man, who looked like a retired sergeant. "Who's +going to look in, if all their bones are shaking?" + +"Ah, Marcus Ivanovitch, Marcus Ivanovitch!" sighed the inspector, +looking at the window, "I told you you would come to a bad end! I told +the dear man, but he wouldn't listen! Dissipation doesn't bring any +good!" + +"Thanks to Ephraim," said Psyekoff; "but for him, we would never have +guessed. He was the first to guess that something was wrong. He comes +to me this morning, and says: 'Why is the master so long getting up? +He hasn't left his bedroom for a whole week!' The moment he said that, +it was just as if some one had hit me with an ax. The thought flashed +through my mind, 'We haven't had a sight of him since last Saturday, +and to-day is Sunday'! Seven whole days--not a doubt of it!" + +"Ay, poor fellow!" again sighed the inspector. "He was a clever +fellow, finely educated, and kind-hearted at that! And in society, +nobody could touch him! But he was a waster, God rest his soul! I was +prepared for anything since he refused to live with Olga Petrovna. +Poor thing, a good wife, but a sharp tongue! Stephen!" the inspector +called to one of his deputies, "go over to my house this minute, and +send Andrew to the captain to lodge an information with him! Tell him +that Marcus Ivanovitch has been murdered. And run over to the orderly; +why should he sit there, kicking his heels? Let him come here! And go +as fast as you can to the examining magistrate, Nicholas +Yermolaiyevitch. Tell him to come over here! Wait; I'll write him a +note!" + +The inspector posted sentinels around the wing, wrote a letter to the +examining magistrate, and then went over to the director's for a glass +of tea. Ten minutes later he was sitting on a stool, carefully +nibbling a lump of sugar, and swallowing the scalding tea. + +"There you are!" he was saying to Psyekoff; "there you are! A noble by +birth! a rich man--a favorite of the gods, you may say, as Pushkin has +it, and what did he come to? He drank and dissipated and--there you +are--he's murdered." + +After a couple of hours the examining magistrate drove up. Nicholas +Yermolaiyevitch Chubikoff--for that was the magistrate's name--was a +tall, fleshy old man of sixty, who had been wrestling with the duties +of his office for a quarter of a century. Everybody in the district +knew him as an honest man, wise, energetic, and in love with his work. +He was accompanied to the scene of the murder by his inveterate +companion, fellow worker, and secretary, Dukovski, a tall young fellow +of twenty-six. + +"Is it possible, gentlemen?" cried Chubikoff, entering Psyekoff's +room, and quickly shaking hands with everyone. "Is it possible? Marcus +Ivanovitch? Murdered? No! It is impossible! Im-poss-i-ble!" + +"Go in there!" sighed the inspector. + +"Lord, have mercy on us! Only last Friday I saw him at the fair in +Farabankoff. I had a drink of vodka with him, save the mark!" + +"Go in there!" again sighed the inspector. + +They sighed, uttered exclamations of horror, drank a glass of tea +each, and went to the wing. + +"Get back!" the orderly cried to the peasants. + +Going to the wing, the examining magistrate began his work by +examining the bedroom door. The door proved to be of pine, painted +yellow, and was uninjured. Nothing was found which could serve as a +clew. They had to break in the door. + +"Everyone not here on business is requested to keep away!" said the +magistrate, when, after much hammering and shaking, the door yielded +to ax and chisel. "I request this, in the interest of the +investigation. Orderly, don't let anyone in!" + +Chubikoff, his assistant, and the inspector opened the door, and +hesitatingly, one after the other, entered the room. Their eyes met +the following sight: Beside the single window stood the big wooden bed +with a huge feather mattress. On the crumpled feather bed lay a +tumbled, crumpled quilt. The pillow, in a cotton pillow-case, also +much crumpled, was dragging on the floor. On the table beside the bed +lay a silver watch and a silver twenty-kopeck piece. Beside them lay +some sulphur matches. Beside the bed, the little table, and the single +chair, there was no furniture in the room. Looking under the bed, the +inspector saw a couple of dozen empty bottles, an old straw hat, and a +quart of vodka. Under the table lay one top boot, covered with dust. +Casting a glance around the room, the magistrate frowned and grew red +in the face. + +"Scoundrels!" he muttered, clenching his fists. + +"And where is Marcus Ivanovitch?" asked Dukovski in a low voice. + +"Mind your own business!" Chubikoff answered roughly. "Be good enough +to examine the floor! This is not the first case of the kind I have +had to deal with! Eugraph Kuzmitch," he said, turning to the +inspector, and lowering his voice, "in 1870 I had another case like +this. But you must remember it--the murder of the merchant +Portraitoff. It was just the same there. The scoundrels murdered him, +and dragged the corpse out through the window----" + +Chubikoff went up to the window, pulled the curtain to one side, and +carefully pushed the window. The window opened. + +"It opens, you see! It wasn't fastened. Hm! There are tracks under the +window. Look! There is the track of a knee! Somebody got in there. We +must examine the window thoroughly." + +"There is nothing special to be found on the floor," said +Dukovski. +"No stains or scratches. The only thing I found was a struck safety +match. Here it is! So far as I remember, Marcus Ivanovitch did not +smoke. And he always used sulphur matches, never safety matches. +Perhaps this safety match may serve as a clew!" + +"Oh, do shut up!" cried the magistrate deprecatingly. "You go on about +your match! I can't abide these dreamers! Instead of chasing matches, +you had better examine the bed!" + +After a thorough examination of the bed, Dukovski reported: + +"There are no spots, either of blood or of anything else. There are +likewise no new torn places. On the pillow there are signs of teeth. +The quilt is stained with something which looks like beer and smells +like beer. The general aspect of the bed gives grounds for thinking +that a struggle took place on it." + +"I know there was a struggle, without your telling me! You are not +being asked about a struggle. Instead of looking for struggles, you +had better----" + +"Here is one top boot, but there is no sign of the other." + +"Well, and what of that?" + +"It proves that they strangled him, while he was taking his boots off. +He hadn't time to take the second boot off when----" + +"There you go!--and how do you know they strangled him?" + +"There are marks of teeth on the pillow. The pillow itself is badly +crumpled, and thrown a couple of yards from the bed." + +"Listen to his foolishness! Better come into the garden. You would be +better employed examining the garden than digging around here. I can +do that without you!" + +When they reached the garden they began by examining the grass. The +grass under the window was crushed and trampled. A bushy burdock +growing under the window close to the wall was also trampled. Dukovski +succeeded in finding on it some broken twigs and a piece of cotton +wool. On the upper branches were found some fine hairs of dark blue +wool. + +"What color was his last suit?" Dukovski asked Psyekoff. + +"Yellow crash." + +"Excellent! You see they wore blue!" + +A few twigs of the burdock were cut off, and carefully wrapped in +paper by the investigators. At this point Police Captain Artsuybasheff +Svistakovski and Dr. Tyutyeff arrived. The captain bade them "Good +day!" and immediately began to satisfy his curiosity. The doctor, a +tall, very lean man, with dull eyes, a long nose, and a pointed chin, +without greeting anyone or asking about anything, sat down on a log, +sighed, and began: + +"The Servians are at war again! What in heaven's name can they want +now? Austria, it's all your doing!" + +The examination of the window from the outside did not supply any +conclusive data. The examination of the grass and the bushes nearest +to the window yielded a series of useful clews. For example, Dukovski +succeeded in discovering a long, dark streak, made up of spots, on the +grass, which led some distance into the center of the garden. The +streak ended under one of the lilac bushes in a dark brown stain. +Under this same lilac bush was found a top boot, which turned out to +be the fellow of the boot already found in the bedroom. + +"That is a blood stain made some time ago," said Dukovski, examining +the spot. + +At the word "blood" the doctor rose, and going over lazily, looked at +the spot. + +"Yes, it is blood!" he muttered. + +"That shows he wasn't strangled, if there was blood," said Chubikoff, +looking sarcastically at Dukovski. + +"They strangled him in the bedroom; and here, fearing he might come +round again, they struck him a blow with some sharp-pointed +instrument. The stain under the bush proves that he lay there a +considerable time, while they were looking about for some way of +carrying him out of the garden. + +"Well, and how about the boot?" + +"The boot confirms completely my idea that they murdered him while he +was taking his boots off before going to bed. He had already taken off +one boot, and the other, this one here, he had only had time to take +half off. The half-off boot came off of itself, while the body was +dragged over, and fell----" + +"There's a lively imagination for you!" laughed Chubikoff. "He goes on +and on like that! When will you learn enough to drop your deductions? +Instead of arguing and deducing, it would be much better if you took +some of the blood-stained grass for analysis!" + +When they had finished their examination, and drawn a plan of the +locality, the investigators went to the director's office to write +their report and have breakfast. While they were breakfasting they +went on talking: + +"The watch, the money, and so on--all untouched--" Chubikoff began, +leading off the talk, "show as clearly as that two and two are four +that the murder was not committed for the purpose of robbery." + +"The murder was committed by an educated man!" insisted Dukovski. + +"What evidence have you of that?" + +"The safety match proves that to me, for the peasants hereabouts are +not yet acquainted with safety matches. Only the landowners use them, +and by no means all of them. And it is evident that there was not one +murderer, but at least three. Two held him, while one killed him. +Klausoff was strong, and the murderers must have known it!" + +"What good would his strength be, supposing he was asleep?" + +"The murderers came on him while he was taking off his boots. If he +was taking off his boots, that proves that he wasn't asleep!" + +"Stop inventing your deductions! Better eat!" + +"In my opinion, your worship," said the gardener Ephraim, setting the +samovar on the table, "it was nobody but Nicholas who did this dirty +trick!" + +"Quite possible," said Psyekoff. + +"And who is Nicholas?" + +"The master's valet, your worship," answered Ephraim. "Who else could +it be? He's a rascal, your worship! He's a drunkard and a blackguard, +the like of which Heaven should not permit! He always took the master +his vodka and put the master to bed. Who else could it be? And I also +venture to point out to your worship, he once boasted at the public +house that he would kill the master! It happened on account of +Aquilina, the woman, you know. He was making up to a soldier's widow. +She pleased the master; the master made friends with her himself, and +Nicholas--naturally, he was mad! He is rolling about drunk in the +kitchen now. He is crying, and telling lies, saying he is sorry for +the master----" + +The examining magistrate ordered Nicholas to be brought. Nicholas, a +lanky young fellow, with a long, freckled nose, narrow-chested, and +wearing an old jacket of his master's, entered Psyekoff's room, and +bowed low before the magistrate. His face was sleepy and tear-stained. +He was tipsy and could hardly keep his feet. + +"Where is your master?" Chubikoff asked him. + +"Murdered! your worship!" + +As he said this, Nicholas blinked and began to weep. + +"We know he was murdered. But where is he now? Where is his body?" + +"They say he was dragged out of the window and buried in the garden!" + +"Hum! The results of the investigation are known in the kitchen +already!--That's bad! Where were you, my good fellow, the night the +master was murdered? Saturday night, that is." + +Nicholas raised his head, stretched his neck, and began to think. + +"I don't know, your worship," he said. "I was drunk and don't +remember." + +"An alibi!" whispered Dukovski, smiling, and rubbing his hands. + +"So-o! And why is there blood under the master's window?" + +Nicholas jerked his head up and considered. + +"Hurry up!" said the Captain of Police. + +"Right away! That blood doesn't amount to anything, your worship! I +was cutting a chicken's throat. I was doing it quite simply, in the +usual way, when all of a sudden it broke away and started to run. That +is where the blood came from." + +Ephraim declared that Nicholas did kill a chicken every evening, and +always in some new place, but that nobody ever heard of a half-killed +chicken running about the garden, though of course it wasn't +impossible. + +"An alibi," sneered Dukovski; "and what an asinine alibi!" + +"Did you know Aquilina?" + +"Yes, your worship, I know her." + +"And the master cut you out with her?" + +"Not at all. _He_ cut me out--Mr. Psyekoff there, Ivan Mikhailovitch; +and the master cut Ivan Mikhailovitch out. That is how it was." + +Psyekoff grew confused and began to scratch his left eye. Dukovski +looked at him attentively, noted his confusion, and started. He +noticed that the director had dark blue trousers, which he had not +observed before. The trousers reminded him of the dark blue threads +found on the burdock. Chubikoff in his turn glanced suspiciously at +Psyekoff. + +"Go!" he said to Nicholas. "And now permit me to put a question to +you, Mr. Psyekoff. Of course you were here last Saturday evening?" + +"Yes! I had supper with Marcus Ivanovitch about ten o'clock." + +"And afterwards?" + +"Afterwards--afterwards--Really, I do not remember," stammered +Psyekoff. "I had a good deal to drink at supper. I don't remember when +or where I went to sleep. Why are you all looking at me like that, as +if I was the murderer?" + +"Where were you when you woke up?" + +"I was in the servants' kitchen, lying behind the stove! They can all +confirm it. How I got behind the stove I don't know----" + +"Do not get agitated. Did you know Aquilina?" + +"There's nothing extraordinary about that----" + +"She first liked you and then preferred Klausoff?" + +"Yes. Ephraim, give us some more mushrooms! Do you want some more tea, +Eugraph Kuzmitch?" + +A heavy, oppressive silence began and lasted fully five minutes. +Dukoyski silently kept his piercing eyes fixed on Psyekoff's pale +face. The silence was finally broken by the examining magistrate: + +"We must go to the house and talk with Maria Ivanovna, the sister of +the deceased. Perhaps she may be able to supply some clews." + +Chubikoff and his assistant expressed their thanks for the breakfast, +and went toward the house. They found Klausoff's sister, Maria +Ivanovna, an old maid of forty-five, at prayer before the big case of +family icons. When she saw the portfolios in her guests' hands, and +their official caps, she grew pale. + +"Let me begin by apologizing for disturbing, so to speak, your +devotions," began the gallant Chubikoff, bowing and scraping. "We have +come to you with a request. Of course, you have heard already. There +is a suspicion that your dear brother, in some way or other, has been +murdered. The will of God, you know. No one can escape death, neither +czar nor plowman. Could you not help us with some clew, some +explanation----?" + +"Oh, don't ask me!" said Maria Ivanovna, growing still paler, and +covering her face with her hands. "I can tell you nothing. Nothing! I +beg you! I know nothing--What can I do? Oh, no! no!--not a word about +my brother! If I die, I won't say anything!" + +Maria Ivanovna began to weep, and left the room. The investigators +looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders, and beat a retreat. + +"Confound the woman!" scolded Dukovski, going out of the house. "It is +clear she knows something, and is concealing it! And the chambermaid +has a queer expression too! Wait, you wretches! We'll ferret it all +out!" + +In the evening Chubikoff and his deputy, lit on their road by the pale +moon, wended their way homeward. They sat in their carriage and +thought over the results of the day. Both were tired and kept silent. +Chubikoff was always unwilling to talk while traveling, and the +talkative Dukovski remained silent, to fall in with the elder man's +humor. But at the end of their journey the deputy could hold in no +longer, and said: + +"It is quite certain," he said, "that Nicholas had something to do +with the matter. _Non dubitandum est!_ You can see by his face what +sort of a case he is! His alibi betrays him, body and bones. But it is +also certain that he did not set the thing going. He was only the +stupid hired tool. You agree? And the humble Psyekoff was not without +some slight share in the matter. His dark blue breeches, his +agitation, his lying behind the stove in terror after the murder, his +alibi and--Aquilina----" + +"'Grind away, Emilian; it's your week!' So, according to you, whoever +knew Aquilina is the murderer! Hot-head! You ought to be sucking a +bottle, and not handling affairs! You were one of Aquilina's admirers +yourself--does it follow that you are implicated too?" + +"Aquilina was cook in your house for a month. I am saying nothing +about that! The night before that Saturday I was playing cards with +you, and saw you, otherwise I should be after you too! It isn't the +woman that matters, old chap! It is the mean, nasty, low spirit of +jealousy that matters. The retiring young man was not pleased when +they got the better of him, you see! His vanity, don't you see? He +wanted revenge. Then, those thick lips of his suggest passion. So +there you have it: wounded self-love and passion. That is quite enough +motive for a murder. We have two of them in our hands; but who is the +third? Nicholas and Psyekoff held him, but who smothered him? Psyekoff +is shy, timid, an all-round coward. And Nicholas would not know how to +smother with a pillow. His sort use an ax or a club. Some third person +did the smothering; but who was it?" + +Dukovski crammed his hat down over his eyes and pondered. He remained +silent until the carriage rolled up to the magistrate's door. + +"Eureka!" he said, entering the little house and throwing off his +overcoat. "Eureka, Nicholas Yermolaiyevitch! The only thing I can't +understand is, how it did not occur to me sooner! Do you know who the +third person was?" + +"Oh, for goodness sake, shut up! There is supper! Sit down to your +evening meal!" + +The magistrate and Dukovski sat down to supper. Dukovski poured +himself out a glass of vodka, rose, drew himself up, and said, with +sparkling eyes: + +"Well, learn that the third person, who acted in concert with that +scoundrel Psyekoff, and did the smothering, was a woman! Yes-s! I +mean--the murdered man's sister, Maria Ivanovna!" + +Chubikoff choked over his vodka, and fixed his eyes on Dukovski. + +"You aren't--what's-its-name? Your head isn't what-do-you-call-it? You +haven't a pain in it?" + +"I am perfectly well! Very well, let us say that I am crazy; but how +do you explain her confusion when we appeared? How do you explain her +unwillingness to give us any information? Let us admit that these are +trifles. Very well! All right! But remember their relations. She +detested her brother. She never forgave him for living apart from his +wife. She is of the Old Faith, while in her eyes he is a godless +profligate. There is where the germ of her hate was hatched. They say +he succeeded in making her believe that he was an angel of Satan. He +even went in for spiritualism in her presence!" + +"Well, what of that?" + +"You don't understand? She, as a member of the Old Faith, murdered him +through fanaticism. It was not only that she was putting to death a +weed, a profligate--she was freeing the world of an antichrist!--and +there, in her opinion, was her service, her religious achievement! Oh, +you don't know those old maids of the Old Faith. Read Dostoyevsky! And +what does Lyeskoff say about them, or Petcherski? It was she, and +nobody else, even if you cut me open. She smothered him! O treacherous +woman! wasn't that the reason why she was kneeling before the icons, +when we came in, just to take our attention away? 'Let me kneel down +and pray,' she said to herself, 'and they will think I am tranquil and +did not expect them!' That is the plan of all novices in crime, +Nicholas Yermolaiyevitch, old pal! My dear old man, won't you intrust +this business to me? Let me personally bring it through! Friend, I +began it and I will finish it!" + +Chubikoff shook his head and frowned. + +"We know how to manage difficult matters ourselves," he said; "and +your business is not to push yourself in where you don't belong. Write +from dictation when you are dictated to; that is your job!" + +Dukovski flared up, banged the door, and disappeared. + +"Clever rascal!" muttered Chubikoff, glancing after him. "Awfully +clever! But too much of a hothead. I must buy him a cigar case at the +fair as a present." + +The next day, early in the morning, a young man with a big head and a +pursed-up mouth, who came from Klausoff's place, was introduced to the +magistrate's office. He said he was the shepherd Daniel, and brought a +very interesting piece of information. + +"I was a bit drunk," he said. "I was with my pal till midnight. On my +way home, as I was drunk, I went into the river for a bath. I was +taking a bath, when I looked up. Two men were walking along the dam, +carrying something black. 'Shoo!' I cried at them. They got scared, +and went off like the wind toward Makareff's cabbage garden. Strike me +dead, if they weren't carrying away the master!" + +That same day, toward evening, Psyekoff and Nicholas were arrested and +brought under guard to the district town. In the town they were +committed to the cells of the prison. + + +II + +A fortnight passed. + +It was morning. The magistrate Nicholas Yermolaiyevitch was sitting in +his office before a green table, turning over the papers of the +"Klausoff case"; Dukovski was striding restlessly up and down, like a +wolf in a cage. + +"You are convinced of the guilt of Nicholas and Psyekoff," he said, +nervously plucking at his young beard. "Why will you not believe in +the guilt of Maria Ivanovna? Are there not proofs enough for you?" + +"I don't say I am not convinced. I am convinced, but somehow I don't +believe it! There are no real proofs, but just a kind of +philosophizing--fanaticism, this and that----" + +"You can't do without an ax and bloodstained sheets. Those jurists! +Very well, I'll prove it to you! You will stop sneering at the +psychological side of the affair! To Siberia with your Maria Ivanovna! +I will prove it! If philosophy is not enough for you, I have something +substantial for you. It will show you how correct my philosophy is. +Just give me permission----" + +"What are you going on about?" + +"About the safety match! Have you forgotten it? I haven't! I am going +to find out who struck it in the murdered man's room. It was not +Nicholas that struck it; it was not Psyekoff, for neither of them had +any matches when they were examined; it was the third person, Maria +Ivanovna. I will prove it to you. Just give me permission to go +through the district to find out." + +"That's enough! Sit down. Let us go on with the examination." + +Dukovski sat down at a little table, and plunged his long nose in a +bundle of papers. + +"Bring in Nicholas Tetekhoff!" cried the examining magistrate. + +They brought Nicholas in. Nicholas was pale and thin as a rail. He was +trembling. + +"Tetekhoff!" began Chubikoff. "In 1879 you were tried in the Court of +the First Division, convicted of theft, and sentenced to imprisonment. +In 1882 you were tried a second time for theft, and were again +imprisoned. We know all----" + +Astonishment was depicted on Nicholas's face. The examining +magistrate's omniscience startled him. But soon his expression of +astonishment changed to extreme indignation. He began to cry and +requested permission to go and wash his face and quiet down. They led +him away. + +"Bring in Psyekoff!" ordered the examining magistrate. + +They brought in Psyekoff. The young man had changed greatly during the +last few days. He had grown thin and pale, and looked haggard. His +eyes had an apathetic expression. + +"Sit down, Psyekoff," said Chubikoff. "I hope that to-day you are +going to be reasonable, and will not tell lies, as you did before. All +these days you have denied that you had anything to do with the murder +of Klausoff, in spite of all the proofs that testify against you. That +is foolish. Confession will lighten your guilt. This is the last time +I am going to talk to you. If you do not confess to-day, to-morrow it +will be too late. Come, tell me all----" + +"I know nothing about it. I know nothing about your proofs," answered +Psyekoff, almost inaudibly. + +"It's no use! Well, let me relate to you how the matter took place. On +Saturday evening you were sitting in Klausoff's sleeping room, and +drinking vodka and beer with him." (Dukovski fixed his eyes on +Psyekoff's face, and kept them there all through the examination.) +"Nicholas was waiting on you. At one o'clock, Marcus Ivanovitch +announced his intention of going to bed. He always went to bed at one +o'clock. When he was taking off his boots, and was giving you +directions about details of management, you and Nicholas, at a given +signal, seized your drunken master and threw him on the bed. One of +you sat on his legs, the other on his head. Then a third person came +in from the passage--a woman in a black dress, whom you know well, and +who had previously arranged with you as to her share in your criminal +deed. She seized a pillow and began to smother him. While the struggle +was going on the candle went out. The woman took a box of safety +matches from her pocket, and lit the candle. Was it not so? I see by +your face that I am speaking the truth. But to go on. After you had +smothered him, and saw that he had ceased breathing, you and Nicholas +pulled him out through the window and laid him down near the burdock. +Fearing that he might come round again, you struck him with something +sharp. Then you carried him away, and laid him down under a lilac bush +for a short time. After resting awhile and considering, you carried +him across the fence. Then you entered the road. After that comes the +dam. Near the dam, a peasant frightened you. Well, what is the matter +with you?" + +"I am suffocating!" replied Psyekoff. "Very well--have it so. Only let +me go out, please!" + +They led Psyekoff away. + +"At last! He has confessed!" cried Chubikoff, stretching himself +luxuriously. "He has betrayed himself! And didn't I get round him +cleverly! Regularly caught him napping----" + +"And he doesn't deny the woman in the black dress!" exulted Dukovski. +"But all the same, that safety match is tormenting me frightfully. I +can't stand it any longer. Good-by! I am off!" + +Dukovski put on his cap and drove off. Chubikoff began to examine +Aquilina. Aquilina declared that she knew nothing whatever about it. + +At six that evening Dukovski returned. He was more agitated than he +had ever been before. His hands trembled so that he could not even +unbutton his greatcoat. His cheeks glowed. It was clear that he did +not come empty handed. + +"_Veni, vidi, vici!_" he cried, rushing into Chubikoff's room, and +falling into an armchair. "I swear to you on my honor, I begin to +believe that I am a genius! Listen, devil take us all! It is funny, +and it is sad. We have caught three already--isn't that so? Well, I +have found the fourth, and a woman at that. You will never believe who +it is! But listen. I went to Klausoff's village, and began to make a +spiral round it. I visited all the little shops, public houses, dram +shops on the road, everywhere asking for safety matches. Everywhere +they said they hadn't any. I made a wide round. Twenty times I lost +faith, and twenty times I got it back again. I knocked about the whole +day, and only an hour ago I got on the track. Three versts from here. +They gave me a packet of ten boxes. One box was missing. Immediately: +'Who bought the other box?' 'Such-a-one! She was pleased with them!' +Old man! Nicholas Yermolaiyevitch! See what a fellow who was expelled +from the seminary and who has read Gaboriau can do! From to-day on I +begin to respect myself! Oof! Well, come!" + +"Come where?" + +"To her, to number four! We must hurry, otherwise--otherwise I'll +burst with impatience! Do you know who she is? You'll never guess! +Olga Petrovna, Marcus Ivanovitch's wife--his own wife--that's who it +is! She is the person who bought the matchbox!" + +"You--you--you are out of your mind!" + +"It's quite simple! To begin with, she smokes. Secondly, she was head +and ears in love with Klausoff, even after he refused to live in the +same house with her, because she was always scolding his head off. +Why, they say she used to beat him because she loved him so much. And +then he positively refused to stay in the same house. Love turned +sour. 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.' But come along! Quick, +or it will be dark. Come!" + +"I am not yet sufficiently crazy to go and disturb a respectable +honorable woman in the middle of the night for a crazy boy!" + +"Respectable, honorable! Do honorable women murder their husbands? +After that you are a rag, and not an examining magistrate! I never +ventured to call you names before, but now you compel me to. Rag! +Dressing-gown!--Dear Nicholas Yermolaiyevitch, do come, I beg of +you----!" + +The magistrate made a deprecating motion with his hand. + +"I beg of you! I ask, not for myself, but in the interests of justice. +I beg you! I implore you! Do what I ask you to, just this once!" + +Dukovski went down on his knees. + +"Nicholas Yermolaiyevitch! Be kind! Call me a blackguard, a +ne'er-do-weel, if I am mistaken about this woman. You see what an +affair it is. What a case it is. A romance! A woman murdering her own +husband for love! The fame of it will go all over Russia. They will +make you investigator in all important cases. Understand, O foolish +old man!" + +The magistrate frowned, and undecidedly stretched his hand toward his +cap. + +"Oh, the devil take you!" he said. "Let us go!" + +It was dark when the magistrate's carriage rolled up to the porch of +the old country house in which Olga Petrovna had taken refuge with her +brother. + +"What pigs we are," said Chubikoff, taking hold of the bell, "to +disturb a poor woman like this!" + +"It's all right! It's all right! Don't get frightened! We can say that +we have broken a spring." + +Chubikoff and Dukovski were met at the threshold by a tall buxom woman +of three and twenty, with pitch-black brows and juicy red lips. It was +Olga Petrovna herself, apparently not the least distressed by the +recent tragedy. + +"Oh, what a pleasant surprise!" she said, smiling broadly. "You are +just in time for supper. Kuzma Petrovitch is not at home. He is +visiting the priest, and has stayed late. But we'll get on without +him! Be seated. You have come from the examination?" + +"Yes. We broke a spring, you know," began Chubikoff, entering the +sitting room and sinking into an armchair. + +"Take her unawares--at once!" whispered Dukovski; "take her unawares!" + +"A spring--hum--yes--so we came in." + +"Take her unawares, I tell you! She will guess what the matter is if +you drag things out like that." + +"Well, do it yourself as you want. But let me get out of it," muttered +Chubikoff, rising and going to the window. + +"Yes, a spring," began Dukovski, going close to Olga Petrovna and +wrinkling his long nose. "We did not drive over here--to take supper +with you or--to see Kuzma Petrovitch. We came here to ask you, +respected madam, where Marcus Ivanovitch is, whom you murdered!" + +"What? Marcus Ivanovitch murdered?" stammered Olga Petrovna, and her +broad face suddenly and instantaneously flushed bright scarlet. "I +don't--understand!" + +"I ask you in the name of the law! Where is Klausoff? We know all!" + +"Who told you?" Olga Petrovna asked in a low voice, unable to endure +Dukovski's glance. + +"Be so good as to show us where he is!" + +"But how did you find out? Who told you?" + +"We know all! I demand it in the name of the law!" + +The examining magistrate, emboldened by her confusion, came forward +and said: + +"Show us, and we will go away. Otherwise, we----" + +"What do you want with him?" + +"Madam, what is the use of these questions? We ask you to show us! You +tremble, you are agitated. Yes, he has been murdered, and, if you must +have it, murdered by you! Your accomplices have betrayed you!" + +Olga Petrovna grew pale. + +"Come!" she said in a low voice, wringing her hands. "I have +him--hid--in the bath house! Only for heaven's sake, do not tell Kuzma +Petrovitch. I beg and implore you! He will never forgive me!" + +Olga Petrovna took down a big key from the wall, and led her guests +through the kitchen and passage to the courtyard. The courtyard was in +darkness. Fine rain was falling. Olga Petrovna walked in advance of +them. Chubikoff and Dukovski strode behind her through the long grass, +as the odor of wild hemp and dishwater splashing under their feet +reached them. The courtyard was wide. Soon the dishwater ceased, and +they felt freshly broken earth under their feet. In the darkness +appeared the shadowy outlines of trees, and among the trees a little +house with a crooked chimney. + +"That is the bath house," said Olga Petrovna. "But I implore you, do +not tell my brother! If you do, I'll never hear the end of it!" + +Going up to the bath house, Chubikoff and Dukovski saw a huge padlock +on the door. + +"Get your candle and matches ready," whispered the examining +magistrate to his deputy. + +Olga Petrovna unfastened the padlock, and let her guests into the bath +house. Dukovski struck a match and lit up the anteroom. In the middle +of the anteroom stood a table. On the table, beside a sturdy little +samovar, stood a soup tureen with cold cabbage soup and a plate with +the remnants of some sauce. + +"Forward!" + +They went into the next room, where the bath was. There was a table +there also. On the table was a dish with some ham, a bottle of vodka, +plates, knives, forks. + +"But where is it--where is the murdered man?" asked the examining +magistrate. + +"On the top tier," whispered Olga Petrovna, still pale and trembling. + +Dukovski took the candle in his hand and climbed up to the top tier of +the sweating frame. There he saw a long human body lying motionless on +a large feather bed. A slight snore came from the body. + +"You are making fun of us, devil take it!" cried Dukovski. "That is +not the murdered man! Some live fool is lying here. Here, whoever you +are, the devil take you!" + +The body drew in a quick breath and stirred. Dukovski stuck his elbow +into it. It raised a hand, stretched itself, and lifted its head. + +"Who is sneaking in here?" asked a hoarse, heavy bass. "What do you +want?" + +Dukovski raised the candle to the face of the unknown, and cried out. +In the red nose, disheveled, unkempt hair, the pitch-black mustaches, +one of which was jauntily twisted and pointed insolently toward the +ceiling, he recognized the gallant cavalryman Klausoff. + +"You--Marcus--Ivanovitch? Is it possible?" + +The examining magistrate glanced sharply up at him, and stood +spellbound. + +"Yes, it is I. That's you, Dukovski? What the devil do you want here? +And who's that other mug down there? Great snakes! It is the examining +magistrate! What fate has brought him here?" + +Klausoff rushed down and threw his arms round Chubikoff in a cordial +embrace. Olga Petrovna slipped through the door. + +"How did you come here? Let's have a drink, devil take it! +Tra-ta-ti-to-tum--let us drink! But who brought you here? How did you +find out that I was here? But it doesn't matter! Let's have a drink!" + +Klausoff lit the lamp and poured out three glasses of vodka. + +"That is--I don't understand you," said the examining magistrate, +running his hands over him. "Is this you or not you!" + +"Oh, shut up! You want to preach me a sermon? Don't trouble yourself! +Young Dukovski, empty your glass! Friends, let us bring this--What are +you looking at? Drink!" + +"All the same, I do not understand!" said the examining magistrate, +mechanically drinking off the vodka. "What are you here for?" + +"Why shouldn't I be here, if I am all right here?" + +Klausoff drained his glass and took a bite of ham. + +"I am in captivity here, as you see. In solitude, in a cavern, like a +ghost or a bogey. Drink! She carried me off and locked me up, +and--well, I am living here, in the deserted bath house, like a +hermit. I am fed. Next week I think I'll try to get out. I'm tired of +it here!" + +"Incomprehensible!" said Dukovski. + +"What is incomprehensible about it?" + +"Incomprehensible! For Heaven's sake, how did your boot get into the +garden?" + +"What boot?" + +"We found one boot in the sleeping room and the other in the garden." + +"And what do you want to know that for? It's none of your business! +Why don't you drink, devil take you? If you wakened me, then drink +with me! It is an interesting tale, brother, that of the boot! I +didn't want to go with Olga. I don't like to be bossed. She came under +the window and began to abuse me. She always was a termagant. You know +what women are like, all of them. I was a bit drunk, so I took a boot +and heaved it at her. Ha-ha-ha! Teach her not to scold another time! +But it didn't! Not a bit of it! She climbed in at the window, lit the +lamp, and began to hammer poor tipsy me. She thrashed me, dragged me +over here, and locked me in. She feeds me now--on love, vodka, and +ham! But where are you off to, Chubikoff? Where are you going?" + +The examining magistrate swore, and left the bath house. Dukovski +followed him, crestfallen. They silently took their seats in the +carriage and drove off. The road never seemed to them so long and +disagreeable as it did that time. Both remained silent. Chubikoff +trembled with rage all the way. Dukovski hid his nose in the collar of +his overcoat, as if he was afraid that the darkness and the drizzling +rain might read the shame in his face. + +When they reached home, the examining magistrate found Dr. Tyutyeff +awaiting him. The doctor was sitting at the table, and, sighing +deeply, was turning over the pages of the _Neva_. + +"Such goings-on there are in the world!" he said, meeting the +examining magistrate with a sad smile, "Austria is at it again! And +Gladstone also to some extent----" + +Chubikoff threw his cap under the table, and shook himself. + +"Devils' skeletons! Don't plague me! A thousand times I have told you +not to bother me with your politics! This is no question of politics! +And you," said Chubikoff, turning to Dukovski and shaking his fist, "I +won't forget this in a thousand years!" + +"But the safety match? How could I know?" + +"Choke yourself with your safety match! Get out of my way! Don't make +me mad, or the devil only knows what I'll do to you! Don't let me see +a trace of you!" + +Dukovski sighed, took his hat, and went out. + +"I'll go and get drunk," he decided, going through the door, and +gloomily wending his way to the public house. + + + +VSEVOLOD VLADIMIROVITCH KRESTOVSKI + + +_KNIGHTS OF INDUSTRY_ + + +I + +THE LAST WILL OF THE PRINCESS + + +Princess Anna Chechevinski for the last time looked at the home of her +girlhood, over which the St. Petersburg twilight was descending. +Defying the commands of her mother, the traditions of her family, she +had decided to elope with the man of her choice. With a last word of +farewell to her maid, she wrapped her cloak round her and disappeared +into the darkness. + +The maid's fate had been a strange one. In one of the districts beyond +the Volga lived a noble, a bachelor, luxuriously, caring only for his +own amusement. He fished, hunted, and petted the pretty little +daughter of his housekeeper, one of his serfs, whom he vaguely +intended to set free. He passed hours playing with the pretty child, +and even had an old French governess come to give her lessons. She +taught little Natasha to dance, to play the piano, to put on the airs +and graces of a little lady. So the years passed, and the old nobleman +obeyed the girl's every whim, and his serfs bowed before her and +kissed her hands. Gracefully and willfully she queened it over the +whole household. + +Then one fine day the old noble took thought and died. He had +forgotten to liberate his housekeeper and her daughter, and, as he was +a bachelor, his estate went to his next of kin, the elder Princess +Chechevinski. Between the brother and sister a cordial hatred had +existed, and they had not seen one another for years. + +Coming to take possession of the estate, Princess Chechevinski carried +things with a high hand. She ordered the housekeeper to the cow house, +and carried off the girl Natasha, as her daughter's maid, to St. +Petersburg, from the first hour letting her feel the lash of her +bitter tongue and despotic will. Natasha had tried in vain to dry her +mother's tears. With growing anger and sorrow she watched the old +house as they drove away, and looking at the old princess she said to +herself, "I hate her! I hate her! I will never forgive her!" + +Princess Anna, bidding her maid good-by, disappeared into the night. +The next morning the old princess learned of the flight. Already ill, +she fell fainting to the floor, and for a long time her condition was +critical. She regained consciousness, tried to find words to express +her anger, and again swooned away. Day and night, three women watched +over her, her son's old nurse, her maid, and Natasha, who took turns +in waiting on her. Things continued thus for forty-eight hours. +Finally, on the night of the third day she came to herself. It was +Natasha's watch. + +"And you knew? You knew she was going?" the old princess asked her +fiercely. + +The girl started, unable at first to collect her thoughts, and looked +up frightened. The dim flicker of the night light lit her pale face +and golden hair, and fell also on the grim, emaciated face of the old +princess, whose eyes glittered feverishly under her thick brows. + +"You knew my daughter was going to run away?" repeated the old woman, +fixing her keen eyes on Natasha's face, trying to raise herself from +among the lace-fringed pillows. + +"I knew," the girl answered in a half whisper, lowering her eyes in +confusion, and trying to throw off her first impression of terror. + +"Why did you not tell me before?" the old woman continued, even more +fiercely. + +Natasha had now recovered her composure, and raising her eyes with an +expression of innocent distress, she answered: + +"Princess Anna hid everything from me also, until the very last. How +dare I tell you? Would you have believed me? It was not my business, +your excellency!" + +The old princess shook her head, smiling bitterly and incredulously. + +"Snake!" she hissed fiercely, looking at the girl; and then she added +quickly: + +"Did any of the others know?" + +"No one but myself!" answered Natasha. + +"Never dare to speak of her again! Never dare!" cried the old +princess, and once more she sank back unconscious on the pillows. + +About noon the next day she again came to herself, and ordered her son +to be called. He came in quietly, and affectionately approached his +mother. + +The princess dismissed her maid, and remained alone with her son. + +"You have no longer a sister!" she cried, turning to her son, with the +nervous spasm which returned each time she spoke of her daughter. "She +is dead for us! She has disgraced us! I curse her! You, you alone are +my heir!" + +At these words the young prince pricked up his ears and bent even more +attentively toward his mother. The news of his sole heirship was so +pleasant and unexpected that he did not even think of asking how his +sister had disgraced them, and only said with a deep sigh: + +"Oh, mamma, she was always opposed to you. She never loved you!" + +"I shall make a will in your favor," continued the princess, telling +him as briefly as possible of Princess Anna's flight. "Yes, in your +favor--only on one condition: that you will never recognize your +sister. That is my last wish!" + +"Your wish is sacred to me," murmured her son, tenderly kissing her +hand. He had always been jealous and envious of his sister, and was +besides in immediate need of money. + +The princess signed her will that same day, to the no small +satisfaction of her dear son, who, in his heart, was wondering how +soon his beloved parent would pass away, so that he might get his eyes +on her long-hoarded wealth. + + +II + +THE LITHOGRAPHER'S APPRENTICE + + +Later on the same day, in a little narrow chamber of one of the huge, +dirty tenements on Vosnesenski Prospekt, sat a young man of ruddy +complexion. He was sitting at a table, bending toward the one dusty +window, and attentively examining a white twenty-five ruble note. + +The room, dusty and dark, was wretched enough. Two rickety chairs, a +torn haircloth sofa, with a greasy pillow, and the bare table at the +window, were its entire furniture. Several scattered lithographs, two +or three engravings, two slabs of lithographer's stone on the table, +and engraver's tools sufficiently showed the occupation of the young +man. He was florid, with red hair; of Polish descent, and his name was +Kasimir Bodlevski. On the wall, over the sofa, between the overcoat +and the cloak hanging on the wall, was a pencil drawing of a young +girl. It was the portrait of Natasha. + +The young man was so absorbed in his examination of the twenty-five +ruble note that when a gentle knock sounded on the door he started +nervously, as if coming back to himself, and even grew pale, and +hurriedly crushed the banknote into his pocket. + +The knock was repeated--and this time Bodlevski's face lit up. It was +evidently a well-known and expected knock, for he sprang up and opened +the door with a welcoming smile. + +Natasha entered the room. + +"What were you dreaming about that you didn't open the door for me?" +she asked caressingly, throwing aside her hat and cloak, and taking a +seat on the tumble-down sofa. "What were you busy at?" + +"You know, yourself." + +And instead of explaining further, he drew the banknote from his +pocket and showed it to Natasha. + +"This morning the master paid me, and I am keeping the money," he +continued in a low voice, tilting back his chair. "I pay neither for +my rooms nor my shop, but sit here and study all the time." + +"It's so well worth while, isn't it?" smiled Natasha with a +contemptuous grimace. + +"You don't think it is worth while?" said the young man. "Wait! I'll +learn. We'll be rich!" + +"Yes, if we aren't sent to Siberia!" the girl laughed, "What kind of +wealth is that?" she went on. "The game is not worth the candle. I'll +be rich before you are." + +"All right, go ahead!" + +"Go ahead? I didn't come to talk nonsense, I came on business. You +help me, and, on my word of honor, we'll be in clover!" + +Bodlevski looked at his companion in astonishment. + +"I told you my Princess Anna was going to run away. She's gone! And +her mother has cut her off from the inheritance," Natasha continued +with an exultant smile. "I looked through the scrap basket, and have +brought some papers with me." + +"What sort of papers?" + +"Oh, letters and notes. They are all in Princess Anna's handwriting. +Shall I give them to you?" jested Natasha. "Have a good look at them, +examine them, learn her handwriting, so that you can imitate every +letter. That kind of thing is just in your line; you are a first-class +copyist, so this is just the job for you." + +The engraver listened, and only shrugged his shoulders. + +"No, joking aside," she continued seriously, drawing nearer Bodlevski, +"I have thought of something out of the common; you will be grateful. +I have no time to explain it all now. You will know later on. The main +thing is--learn her handwriting." + +"But what is it all for?" said Bodlevski wonderingly. + +"So that you may be able to write a few words in the handwriting of +Princess Anna; what you have to write I'll dictate to you." + +"And then?" + +"Then hurry up and get me a passport in some one else's name, and have +your own ready. But learn her handwriting. Everything depends on +that!" + +"It won't be easy. I'll hardly be able to!" muttered Bodlevski, +scratching his head. + +Natasha flared up. + +"You say you love me?" she cried energetically, with a glance of +anger. "Well, then, do it. Unless you are telling lies, you can learn +to do banknotes." + +The young man strode up and down his den, perplexed. + +"How soon do you want it?" he asked, after a minute's thought. "In a +couple of days?" + +"Yes, in about two days, not longer, or the whole thing is done for!" +the girl replied decisively. "In two days I'll come for the writing, +and be sure my passport is ready!" + +"Very well. I'll do it," consented Bodlevski. And Natasha began to +dictate to him the wording of the letter. + +As soon as she was gone the engraver got to work. All the evening and +a great part of the night he bent over the papers she had brought, +examining the handwriting, studying the letters, and practicing every +stroke with the utmost care, copying and repeating it a hundred times, +until at last he had reached the required clearness. At last he +mastered the writing. It only remained to give it the needed lightness +and naturalness. His head rang from the concentration of blood in his +temples, but he still worked on. + +Finally, when it was almost morning, the note was written, and the +name of Princess Anna was signed to it. The work was a masterpiece, +and even exceeded Bodlevski's expectations. Its lightness and +clearness were remarkable. The engraver, examining the writing of +Princess Anna, compared it with his own work, and was astonished, so +perfect was the resemblance. + +And long he admired his handiwork, with the parental pride known to +every creator, and as he looked at this note he for the first time +fully realized that he was an artist. + + +III + +THE CAVE + + +"Half the work is done!" he cried, jumping from the tumble-down sofa. +"But the passport? There's where the shoe pinches," continued the +engraver, remembering the second half of Natasha's commission. "The +passport--yes--that's where the shoe pinches!" he muttered to himself +in perplexity, resting his head on his hands and his elbows on his +knees. Thinking over all kinds of possible and impossible plans, he +suddenly remembered a fellow countryman of his, a shoemaker named +Yuzitch, who had once confessed in a moment of intoxication that "he +would rather hook a watch than patch a shoe." Bodlevski remembered +that three months before he had met Yuzitch in the street, and they +had gone together to a wine shop, where, over a bottle generously +ordered by Yuzitch, Bodlevski had lamented over the hardships of +mankind in general, and his own in particular. He had not taken +advantage of Yuzitch's offer to introduce him to "the gang," only +because he had already determined to take up one of the higher +branches of the "profession," namely, to metamorphose white paper into +banknotes. When they were parting, Yuzitch had warmly wrung his hand, +saying: + +"Whenever you want anything, dear friend, or if you just want to see +me, come to the Cave; come to Razyeziy Street and ask for the Cave, +and at the Cave anyone will show you where to find Yuzitch. If the +barkeeper makes difficulties just whisper to him that 'Secret' sent +you, and he'll show you at once." + +As this memory suddenly flashed into his mind, Bodlevski caught up his +hat and coat and hurried downstairs into the street. Making his way +through the narrow, dirty streets to the Five Points, he stopped +perplexed. Happily he noticed a sleepy watchman leaning leisurely +against a wall, and going up to him he said: + +"Tell me, where is the Cave?" + +"The what?" asked the watchman impatiently. + +"The Cave." + +"The Cave? There is no such place!" he replied, looking suspiciously +at Bodlevski. + +Bodlevski put his hand in his pocket and pulled out some small change: +"If you tell me----" + +The watchman brightened up. "Why didn't you say so before?" he asked, +grinning. "You see that house, the second from the corner? The wooden +one? That's the Cave." + +Bodlevski crossed the street in the direction indicated, and looked +for the sign over the door. To his astonishment he did not find it and +only later he knew that the name was strictly "unofficial," only used +by members of "the gang." + +Opening the door cautiously, Bodlevski made his way into the low, +dirty barroom. Behind the bar stood a tall, handsome man with an open +countenance and a bald head. Politely bowing to Bodlevski, with his +eyes rather than his head, he invited him to enter the inner room. But +Bodlevski explained that he wanted, not the inner room, but his friend +Yuzitch. + +"Yuzitch?" said the barkeeper thoughtfully. "We don't know anyone of +that name." + +"Why, he's here all the time," cried Bodlevski, in astonishment. + +"Don't know him," retorted the barkeeper imperturbably. + +"'Secret' sent me!" Bodlevski suddenly exclaimed, without lowering his +voice. + +The barkeeper looked at him sharply and suspiciously, and then asked, +with a smile: + +"Who did you say?" + +"'Secret,'" repeated Bodlevski. + +After a while the barkeeper said, "And did your--friend make an +appointment?" + +"Yes, an appointment!" Bodlevski replied, beginning to lose patience. + +"Well, take a seat in the inner room," again said the barkeeper slyly. +"Perhaps your friend will come in, or perhaps he is there already." + +Bodlevski made his way into a roomy saloon, with five windows with +faded red curtains. The ceiling was black from the smoke of hanging +lamps; little square tables were dotted about the floor; their covers +were coarse and not above reproach on the score of cleanliness. The +air was pungent with the odor of cheap tobacco and cheaper cigars. On +the walls were faded oleographs of generals and archbishops, flyblown +and stained. + +Bodlevski, little as he was used to refined surroundings, found his +gorge rising. At some of the little tables furtive, impudent, +tattered, sleek men were drinking. + +Presently Yuzitch made his appearance from a low door at the other end +of the room. The meeting of the two friends was cordial, especially on +Bodlevski's side. Presently they were seated at a table, with a flask +of wine between them, and Bodlevski began to explain what he wanted to +his friend. + +As soon as he heard what was wanted, Yuzitch took on an air of +importance, knit his brows, hemmed, and hawed. + +"I can manage it," he said finally. "Yes, we can manage it. I must see +one of my friends about it. But it's difficult. It will cost money." + +Bodlevski immediately assented. Yuzitch at once rose and went over to +a red-nosed individual in undress uniform, who was poring over the +_Police News_. + +"Friend Borisovitch," said Yuzitch, holding out his hand to him, +"something doing!" + +"Fair or foul?" asked the man with the red nose. "Hang your cheek!" +laughed Yuzitch; "if I say it, of course it's fair." After a whispered +conference, Yuzitch returned to Bodlevski and told him that it was all +right; that the passport for Natasha would be ready by the next +evening. Bodlevski paid him something in advance and went home +triumphantly. + +At eleven o'clock the next evening Bodlevski once more entered the +large room at the Cave, now all lit up and full of an animated crowd +of men and women, all with the same furtive, predatory faces. +Bodlevski felt nervous. He had no fears while turning white paper into +banknotes in the seclusion of his own workshop, but he was full of +apprehensions concerning his present guest, because several people had +to be let into the secret. + +Yuzitch presently appeared through the same low door and, coming up to +Bodlevski, explained that the passport would cost twenty rubles. +Bodlevski paid the money over in advance, and Yuzitch led him into a +back room. On the table burned a tallow candle, which hardly lit up +the faces of seven people who were grouped round it, one of them being +the red-nosed man who was reading the _Police News._ The seven men +were all from the districts of Vilna and Vitebsk, and were specialists +in the art of fabricating passports. + +The red-nosed man approached Bodlevski: "We must get acquainted with +each other," he said amiably. "I have the honor to present myself!" +and he bowed low; "Former District Secretary Pacomius Borisovitch +Prakkin. Let me request you first of all to order some vodka; my hand +shakes, you know," he added apologetically. "I don't want it so much +for myself as for my hand--to steady it." + +Bodlevski gave him some change, which the red-nosed man put in his +pocket and at once went to the sideboard for a flask of vodka which he +had already bought. "Let us give thanks! And now to business!" he +said, smacking his lips after a glass of vodka. + +A big, red-haired man, one of the group of seven, drew from his pocket +two vials. In one was a sticky black fluid; in the other, something as +clear as water. + +"We are chemists, you see," the red-nosed man explained to Bodlevski +with a grin, and then added: + +"Finch! on guard!" + +A young man, who had been lolling on a couch in the corner, rose and +took up a position outside the door. + +"Now, brothers, close up!" cried the red-nosed man, and all stood in +close order, elbow to elbow, round the table. "And now we take a +newspaper and have it handy on the table! That is in case," he +explained to Bodlevski, "any outsider happened in on us--which Heaven +prevent! We aren't up to anything at all; simply reading the political +news! You catch on?" + +"How could I help catching on?" + +"Very well. And now let us make everything as clear as in a +looking-glass. What class do you wish to make the person belong to? +The commercial or the nobility?" + +"I think the nobility would be best," said Bodlevski. + +"Certainly! At least that will give the right of free passage through +all the towns and districts of the Russian Empire. Let us see. Have we +not something that will suit?" + +And Pacomius Borisovitch, opening his portfolio, filled with all kinds +of passports, certificates, and papers of identification, began to +turn them over, but without taking any out of the portfolio. All with +the same thought--that some stranger might come in. + +"Ha! here's a new one! Where did it come from?" he cried. + +"I got it out of a new arrival," muttered the red-headed man. + +"Well done! Just what we want! And a noble's passport, too! It is +evident that Heaven is helping us. See what a blessing brings! + +"'This passport is issued by the District of Yaroslav,'" he continued +reading, "'to the college assessor's widow, Maria Solontseva, with +permission to travel,'" and so on in due form. "Did you get it here?" +he added, turning to the red-headed man. + +"Came from Moscow!" + +"Pinched?" + +"Knocked on the head!" briefly replied the red-headed man. + +"Knocked on the head?" repeated Pacomius Borisovitch. "Serious +business. Comes under sections 332 and 727 of the Penal Code." + +"Driveling again!" cried the red-headed man. "I'll teach you to talk +about the Penal Code!" and rising deliberately, he dealt Pacomius +Borisovitch a well-directed blow on the head, which sent him rolling +into the corner. Pacomius picked himself up, blinking with +indignation. + +"What is the meaning of such conduct?" he asked loftily. + +"It means," said the red-headed man, "that if you mention the Penal +Code again I'll knock your head off!" + +"Brothers, brothers!" cried Yuzitch in a good-humored tone; "we are +losing precious time! Forgive him!" he added, turning to Pacomius. +"You must forgive him!" + +"I--forgive him," answered Pacomius, but the light in his eye showed +that he was deeply offended. + +"Well," he went on, addressing Bodlevski, "will it suit you to have +the person pass as Maria Solontseva, widow of a college assessor?" + + +IV + +THE CAPTAIN OF THE GOLDEN BAND + + +Bodlevski had not time to nod his head in assent, when suddenly the +outer door was pushed quickly open and a tall man, well built and +fair-haired, stepped swiftly into the room. He wore a military uniform +and gold-rimmed eyeglasses. + +The company turned their faces toward him in startled surprise, but no +one moved. All continued to stand in close order round the table. + +"Health to you, eaglets! honorable men of Vilna! What are you up to? +What are you busy at?" cried the newcomer, swiftly approaching the +table and taking the chair that Pacomius Borisovitch had just been +knocked out of. + +"What is all this?" he continued, with one hand seizing the vial of +colorless liquid and with the other the photograph of the college +assessor's widow. "So this is hydrochloric acid for erasing ink? Very +good! And this is a photo! So we are fabricating passports? Very fine! +Business is business! Hey! Witnesses!" + +And the fair-haired man whistled sharply. From the outer door appeared +two faces, set on shoulders of formidable proportions. + +The red-headed man silently went up to the newcomer and fiercely +seized him by the collar. At the same moment the rest seized chairs or +logs or bars to defend themselves. + +The fair-haired man meanwhile, not in the least changing his +expression of cool self-confidence, quickly slipped his hands into his +pockets and pulled out a pair of small double-barreled pistols. In the +profound silence in which this scene took place they could distinctly +hear the click of the hammers as he cocked them. He raised his right +hand and pointed the muzzle at the breast of his opponent. + +The red-headed man let go his collar, and glancing contemptuously at +him, with an expression of hate and wrath, silently stepped aside. + +"How much must we pay?" he asked sullenly. + +"Oho! that's better. You should have begun by asking that!" answered +the newcomer, settling himself comfortably on his chair and toying +with his pistols. "How much do you earn?" + +"We get little enough! Just five rubles," answered the red-headed man. + +"That's too little. I need a great deal more. But you are lying, +brother! You would not stir for less than twenty rubles!" + +"Thanks for the compliment!" interrupted Pacomius Borisovitch. + +The fair-haired man nodded to him satirically. "I need a lot more," he +repeated firmly and impressively; "and if you don't give me at least +twenty-five rubles I'll denounce you this very minute to the +police--and you see I have my witnesses ready." + +"Sergei Antonitch! Mr. Kovroff! Have mercy on us! Where can we get so +much from? I tell you as in the presence of the Creator! There are ten +of us, as you see. And there are three of you. And I, Yuzitch, and +Gretcka deserve double shares!" added Pacomius Borisovitch +persuasively. + +"Gretcka deserves nothing at all for catching me by the throat," +decided Sergei Antonitch Kovroff. + +"Mr. Kovroff!" began Pacomius again. "You and I are gentlemen----" + +"What! What did you say?" Kovroff contemptuously interrupted him. "You +put yourself on my level? Ha! ha! ha! No, brother; I am still in the +Czar's service and wear my honor with my uniform! I, brother, have +never stained myself with theft or crime, Heaven be praised. But what +are you?" + +"Hm! And the Golden Band? Who is its captain?" muttered Gretcka +angrily, half to himself. + +"Who is its captain? I am--I, Lieutenant Sergei Antonitch Kovroff, of +the Chernovarski Dragoons! Do you hear? I am captain of the Golden +Band," he said proudly and haughtily, scrutinizing the company with +his confident gaze. "And you haven't yet got as far as the Golden +Band, because you are _cowards_! Chuproff," he cried to one of his +men, "go and take the mask off Finch, or the poor boy will suffocate, +and untie his arms--and give him a good crack on the head to teach him +to keep watch better." + +The "mask" that Kovroff employed on such occasions was nothing but a +piece of oilcloth cut the size of a person's face, and smeared on one +side with a thick paste. Kovroff's "boys" employed this "instrument" +with wonderful dexterity; one of them generally stole up behind the +unconscious victim and skillfully slapped the mask in his face; the +victim at once became dumb and blind, and panted from lack of breath; +at the same time, if necessary, his hands were tied behind him and he +was leisurely robbed, or held, as the case might be. + +The Golden Band was formed in the middle of the thirties, when the +first Nicholas had been about ten years on the throne. Its first +founders were three Polish nobles. It was never distinguished by the +number of its members, but everyone of them could honestly call +himself an accomplished knave, never stopping at anything that stood +in the way of a "job." The present head of the band was Lieutenant +Kovroff, who was a thorough-paced rascal, in the full sense of the +word. Daring, brave, self-confident, he also possessed a handsome +presence, good manners, and the worldly finish known as education. +Before the members of the Golden Band, and especially before Kovroff, +the small rascals stood in fear and trembling. He had his secret +agents everywhere, following every move of the crooks quietly but +pertinaciously. At the moment when some big job was being pulled off, +Kovroff suddenly appeared unexpectedly, with some of his "boys," and +demanded a contribution, threatening instantly to inform the police if +he did not get it--and the rogues, in order to "keep him quiet," had +to give him whatever share of their plunder he graciously deigned to +indicate. Acting with extraordinary skill and acumen in all his +undertakings he always managed so that not a shadow of suspicion could +fall on himself and so he got a double share of the plunder: robbing +the honest folk and the rogues at the same time. Kovroff escaped the +contempt of the crooks because he did things on such a big scale and +embarked with his Golden Band on the most desperate and dangerous +enterprises that the rest of roguedom did not even dare to consider. + +The rogues, whatever their rank, have a great respect for daring, +skill, and force--and therefore they respected Kovroff, at the same +time fearing and detesting him. + +"Who are you getting that passport for?" he asked, calmly taking the +paper from the table and slipping it into his pocket. Gretcka nodded +toward Bodlevski. + +"Aha! for you, is it? Very glad to hear it!" said Kovroff, measuring +him with his eyes. "And so, gentlemen, twenty-five rubles, or +good-by--to our happy meeting in the police court!" + +"Mr. Kovroff! Allow me to speak to you as a man of honor!" Pacomius +Borisovitch again interrupted. "We are only getting twenty rubles for +the job. The whole gang will pledge their words of honor to that. Do +you think we would lie to you and stain the honor of the gang for +twenty measly rubles?" + +"That is business. That was well said. I love a good speech, and am +always ready to respect it," remarked Sergei Antonitch approvingly. + +"Very well, then, see for yourself," went on the red-nosed Pacomius, +"see for yourself. If we give you everything, we are doing our work +and not getting a kopeck!" + +"Let him pay," answered Kovroff, turning his eyes toward Bodlevski. + +Bodlevski took out his gold watch, his only inheritance from his +father, and laid it down on the table before Kovroff, with the five +rubles that remained. + +Kovroff again measured him with his eyes and smiled. + +"You are a worthy young man!" he said. "Give me your hand! I see that +you will go far." + +And he warmly pressed the engraver's hand. "But you must know for the +future," he added in a friendly but impressive way, "that I never take +anything but money when I am dealing with these fellows. Ho, you!" he +went on, turning to the company, "some one go to uncle's and get cash +for this watch; tell him to pay conscientiously at least two thirds of +what it is worth; it is a good watch. It would cost sixty rubles to +buy. And have a bottle of champagne got ready for me at the bar, +quick! And if you don't, it will be the worse for you!" he called +after the departing Yuzitch, who came back a few minutes later, and +gave Kovroff forty rubles. Kovroff counted them, and put twenty in his +pocket, returning the remainder in silence, but with a gentlemanly +smile, to Bodlevski. + +"Fair exchange is no robbery," he said, giving Bodlevski the passport +of the college assessor's widow. "Now that old rascal Pacomius may get +to work." + +"What is there to do?" laughed Pacomius; "the passport will do very +well. So let us have a little glass, and then a little game of cards." + +"We are going to know each other better; I like your face, so I hope +we shall make friends," said Kovroff, again shaking hands with +Bodlevski. "Now let us go and have some wine. You will tell me over +our glasses what you want the passport for, and on account of your +frankness about the watch, I am well disposed to you. Lieutenant +Sergei Kovroff gives you his word of honor on that. I also can be +magnanimous," he concluded, and the new friends accompanied by the +whole gang went out to the large hall. + +There began a scene of revelry that lasted till long after midnight. +Bodlevski, feeling his side pocket to see if the passport was still +there, at last left the hall, bewildered, as though under a spell. He +felt a kind of gloomy satisfaction; he was possessed by this +satisfaction, by the uncertainty of what Natasha could have thought +out, by the question how it would all turn out, and by the conviction +that his first crime had already been committed. All these feelings +lay like lead on his heart, while in his ears resounded the wild songs +of the Cave. + + +V + +THE KEYS OF THE OLD PRINCESS + + +It was nine o'clock in the evening. Natasha lit the night lamp in the +bedroom of the old Princess Chechevinski, and went silently into the +dressing room to prepare the soothing powders which the doctors had +prescribed for her, before going to sleep. + +The old princess was still very weak. Although her periods of +unconsciousness had not returned, she was still subject to paroxysms +of hysteria. At times she sank into forgetfulness, then started +nervously, sometimes trembling in every limb. The thought of the blow +of her daughter's flight never left her for a moment. + +Natasha had just taken the place of the day nurse. It was her turn to +wait on the patient until midnight. Silence always reigned in the +house of the princess, and now that she was ill the silence was +intensified tenfold. Everyone walked on tiptoe, and spoke in whispers, +afraid even of coughing or of clinking a teaspoon on the sideboard. +The doorbells were tied in towels, and the whole street in front of +the house was thickly strewn with straw. At ten the household was +already dispersed, and preparing for sleep. Only the nurse sat +silently at the head of the old lady's bed. + +Pouring out half a glass of water, Natasha sprinkled the powder in it, +and took from the medicine chest a phial with a yellowish liquid. It +was chloral. Looking carefully round, she slowly brought the lip of +the phial down to the edge of the glass and let ten drops fall into +it. "That will be enough," she said to herself, and smiled. Her face, +as always, was coldly quiet, and not the slightest shade of any +feeling was visible on it at that moment. + +Natasha propped the old lady up with her arm. She drank the medicine +given to her and lay down again, and in a few minutes the chloral +began to have its effect. With an occasional convulsive movement of +her lower lip, she sank into a deep and heavy sleep. Natasha watched +her face following the symptoms of unconsciousness, and when she was +convinced that sleep had finally taken complete possession of her, and +that for several hours the old woman was deprived of the power to hear +anything or to wake up, she slowly moved her chair nearer the +bedstead, and without taking her quietly observant eyes from the old +woman's face, softly slipped her hand under the lower pillow. Moving +forward with the utmost care, not more than an inch or so at a time, +her hand stopped instantly, as soon as there was the slightest nervous +movement of the old woman's face, on which Natasha's eyes were fixed +immovably. But the old woman slept profoundly, and the hand again +moved forward half an inch or so under the pillow. About half an hour +passed, and the girl's eyes were still fastened on the sleeping face, +and her hand was still slipping forward under the pillow, moving +occasionally a little to one side, and feeling about for something. +Natasha's expression was in the highest degree quiet and concentrated, +but under this quietness was at the same time concealed something +else, which gave the impression that if--which Heaven forbid!--the old +woman should at that moment awake, the other free hand would instantly +seize her by the throat. + +At last the finger-ends felt something hard. "That is it!" thought +Natasha, and she held her breath. In a moment, seizing its treasure, +her hand began quietly to withdraw. Ten minutes more passed, and +Natasha finally drew out a little bag of various colored silks, in +which the old princess always kept her keys, and from which she never +parted, carrying it by day in her pocket, and by night keeping it +under her pillow. One of the keys was an ordinary one, that of her +wardrobe. The other was smaller and finely made; it was the key of her +strong box. + +About an hour later, the same keys, in the same order, and with the +same precautions, found their way back to their accustomed place under +the old lady's pillow. + +Natasha carefully wiped the glass with her handkerchief, in order that +not the least odor of chloral might remain in it, and with her usual +stillness sat out the remaining hours of her watch. + + +VI + +REVENGED + + +The old princess awoke at one o'clock the next day. The doctor was +very pleased at her long and sound sleep, the like of which the old +lady had not enjoyed since her first collapse, and which, in his view, +was certain to presage a turn for the better. + +The princess had long ago formed a habit of looking over her financial +documents, and verifying the accounts of income and expenditure. This +deep-seated habit, which had become a second nature, did not leave +her, now she was ill; at any rate, every morning, as soon as +consciousness and tranquillity returned to her, she took out the key +of her wardrobe, ordered the strong box to be brought to her, and, +sending the day nurse out of the room, gave herself up in solitude to +her beloved occupation, which had by this time become something like a +childish amusement. She drew out her bank securities, signed and +unsigned, now admiring the colored engravings on them, now sorting and +rearranging them, fingering the packets to feel their thickness, +counting them over, and several thousands in banknotes, kept in the +house in case of need, and finally carefully replaced them in the +strong box. The girl, recalled to the bedroom by the sound of the +bell, restored the strong box to its former place, and the old +princess, after this amusement, felt herself for some time quiet and +happy. + +The nurses had had the opportunity to get pretty well used to this +foible; so that the daily examination of the strong box seemed to them +a part of the order of things, something consecrated by custom. + +After taking her medicine, and having her hands and face wiped with a +towel moistened with toilet water, the princess ordered certain +prayers to be read out to her, or the chapter of the Gospel appointed +for the day, and then received her son. From the time of her +illness--that is, from the day when she signed the will making him her +sole heir--he had laid it on himself as a not altogether pleasant duty +to put in an appearance for five minutes in his mother's room, where +he showed himself a dutiful son by never mentioning his sister, but +asking tenderly after his mother's health, and finally, with a deep +sigh, gently kissing her hand, taking his departure forthwith, to sup +with some actress or to meet his companions in a wine shop. + +When he soon went away, the old lady, as was her habit, ordered her +strong box to be brought, and sent the nurse out of the room. It was a +very handsome box of ebony, with beautiful inlaid work. + +The key clicked in the lock, the spring lid sprang up, and the eyes of +the old princess became set in their sockets, full of bewilderment and +terror. Twenty-four thousand rubles in bills, which she herself with +her own hands had yesterday laid on the top of the other securities, +were no longer in the strong box. All the unsigned bank securities +were also gone. The securities in the name of her daughter Anna had +likewise disappeared. There remained only the signed securities in the +name of the old princess and her son, and a few shares of stock. In +the place of all that was gone, there lay a note directed "to Princess +Chechevinski." + +The old lady's fingers trembled so that for a long time she could not +unfold this paper. Her staring eyes wandered hither and thither as if +she had lost her senses. At last she managed somehow to unfold the +note, and began to read: + +"You cursed me, forced me to flee, and unjustly deprived me of my +inheritance. I am taking my money by force. You may inform the police, +but when you read this note, I myself and he who carried out this act +by my directions, will have left St. Petersburg forever. + +"Your daughter, + +"PRINCESS ANNA CHECHEVINSKI." + +The old lady's hands did not fall at her sides, but shifted about on +her lap as if they did not belong to her. Her wandering, senseless +eyes stopped their movements, and in them suddenly appeared an +expression of deep meaning. The old princess made a terrible, +superhuman effort to recover her presence of mind and regain command +over herself. A single faint groan broke from her breast, and her +teeth chattered. She began to look about the room for a light, but the +lamp had been extinguished; the dull gray daylight filtering through +the Venetian blinds sufficiently lit the room. Then the old lady, with +a strange, irregular movement, crushed the note together in her hand, +placed it in her mouth, and with a convulsive movement of her jaws +chewed it, trying to swallow it as quickly as possible. + +A minute passed, and the note had disappeared. The old princess closed +the strong box and rang for the day nurse. Giving her the usual order +in a quiet voice, she had still strength enough to support herself on +her elbow and watch the nurse closing the wardrobe, and then to put +the little bag with the keys back under her pillow, in its accustomed +place. Then she again ordered the nurse to go. + +When, two hours later, the doctor, coming for the third time, wished +to see his patient and entered her bedroom, he found only the old +woman's lifeless body. The blow had been too much--the daughter of the +ancient and ever honorable line of Chechevinski a fugitive and a +thief! + +Natasha had had her revenge. + + +VII + +BEYOND THE FRONTIER + + +On the morning of that same day, at nine o'clock, a well-dressed lady +presented at the Bank of Commerce a number of unsigned bank shares. At +the same time a young man, also elegantly dressed, presented a series +of signed shares, made out in the name of "Princess Anna +Chechevinski." They were properly indorsed, the signature +corresponding to that in the bank books. + +After a short interval the cashier of the bank paid over to the +well-dressed lady a hundred and fifty thousand rubles in bills, and to +the elegantly dressed young man seventy thousand rubles. The lady +signed her receipt in French, Teresa Dore; the young man signed his +name, Ivan Afonasieff, son of a merchant of Kostroma. + +A little later on the same day--namely, about two o'clock--a light +carriage carried two passengers along the Pargoloff road: a quietly +dressed young woman and a quietly dressed young man. Toward evening +these same young people were traveling in a Finnish coach by the stony +mountain road in the direction of Abo. + +Four days later the old Princess Chechevinski was buried in the Nevski +monastery. + +On his return from the monastery, young Prince Chechevinski went +straight for the strong box, which he had hitherto seen only at a +distance, and even then only rarely. He expected to find a great deal +more money in it than he found--some hundred and fifty thousand +rubles; a hundred thousand in his late mother's name, and fifty +thousand in his own. This was the personal property of the old +princess, a part of her dowry. The young prince made a wry face--the +money might last him two or three years, not more. During the lifetime +of the old princess no one had known accurately how much she +possessed, so that it never even entered the young prince's head to +ask whether she had not had more. He was so unmethodical that he never +even looked into her account book, deciding that it was uninteresting +and not worth while. + +That same day the janitor of one of the huge, dirty tenements in +Vosnesenski Prospekt brought to the police office notice of the fact +that the Pole, Kasimir Bodlevski, had left the city; and the +housekeeper of the late Princess Chechevinski informed the police that +the serf girl Natalia Pavlovna (Natasha) had disappeared without +leaving a trace, which the housekeeper now announced, as the three +days' limit had elapsed. + +At that same hour the little ship of a certain Finnish captain was +gliding down the Gulf of Bothnia. The Finn stood at the helm and his +young son handled the sails. On the deck sat a young man and a young +woman. The young woman carried, in a little bag hung round her neck, +two hundred and forty-four thousand rubles in bills, and she and her +companion carried pistols in their pockets for use in case of need. +Their passports declared that the young woman belonged to the noble +class, and was the widow of a college assessor, her name being Maria +Solontseva, while the young man was a Pole, Kasimir Bodlevski. + +The little ship was crossing the Gulf of Bothnia toward the coast of +Sweden. + + + +VIII + +BACK TO RUSSIA + + +In the year 1858, in the month of September, the "Report of the St. +Petersburg City Police" among the names of "Arrivals" included the +following: + + _Baroness van Doering, Hanoverian subject. + Ian Vladislav Karozitch, Austrian subject_. + +The persons above described might have been recognized among the +fashionable crowds which thronged the St. Petersburg terminus of +the Warsaw railway a few days before: A lady who looked not +more than thirty, though she was really thirty-eight, dressed +with simple elegance, tall and slender, admirably developed, +with beautifully clear complexion, piercing, intelligent gray eyes, +under finely outlined brows, thick chestnut hair, and a firm +mouth--almost a beauty, and with an expression of power, subtlety and +decision. "She is either a queen or a criminal," a physiognomist would +have said after observing her face. A gentleman with a red beard, whom +the lady addressed as "brother," not less elegantly dressed, and with +the same expression of subtlety and decision. They left the station in +a hired carriage, and drove to Demuth's Hotel. + +Before narrating the adventures of these distinguished persons, let us +go back twenty years, and ask what became of Natasha and Bodlevski. +When last we saw them the ship that carried them away from Russia was +gliding across the Gulf of Bothnia toward the Swedish coast. Late in +the evening it slipped into the port of Stockholm, and the worthy +Finn, winding in and out among the heavy hulls in the harbor--he was +well used to the job--landed his passengers on the wharf at a lonely +spot near a lonely inn, where the customs officers rarely showed their +noses. Bodlevski, who had beforehand got ready the very modest sum to +pay for their passage, with pitiable looks and gestures and the few +Russian phrases the good Finn could understand, assured him that he +was a very poor man, and could not even pay the sum agreed on in full. +The deficit was inconsiderable, some two rubles in all, and the good +Finn was magnanimous; he slapped his passenger on the shoulder, called +him a "good comrade," declared that he would not press a poor man, and +would always be ready to do him a service. He even found quarters for +Bodlevski and Natasha in the inn, under his protection. The Finn was +indeed a very honest smuggler. On the next morning, bidding a final +farewell to their nautical friend, our couple made their way to the +office of the British Consul, and asked for an opportunity to speak +with him. At this point Natasha played the principal role. + +"My husband is a Pole," said the handsome girl, taking a seat opposite +the consul in his private office, "and I myself am Russian on the +father's side, but my mother was English. My husband is involved in a +political enterprise; he was liable to transportation to Siberia, but +a chance made it possible for us to escape while the police were on +their way to arrest him. We are now political fugitives, and we +intrust our lives to the protection of English law. Be generous, +protect us, and send us to England!" + +The ruse, skillfully planned and admirably presented, was completely +successful, and two or three days later the first passenger ship under +the English flag carried the happy couple to London. + +Bodlevski destroyed his own passport and that of the college +assessor's widow, Maria Solontseva, which Natasha had needed as a +precaution while still on Russian soil. When they got to England, it +would be much handier to take new names. But with their new position +and these new names a great difficulty presented itself: they could +find no suitable outlet for their capital without arousing very +dangerous suspicions. The many-sided art of the London rogues is known +to all the world; in their club, Bodlevski, who had lost no time in +making certain pleasant and indispensable acquaintances there, soon +succeeded in getting for himself and Natasha admirably counterfeited +new passports, once more with new names and occupations. With these, +in a short time, they found their way to the Continent. They both felt +the full force of youth and a passionate desire to live and enjoy +life; in their hot heads hummed many a golden hope and plan; they +wished, to begin with, to invest their main capital somewhere, and +then to travel over Europe, and to choose a quiet corner somewhere +where they could settle down to a happy life. + +Perhaps all this might have happened if it had not been for cards and +roulette and the perpetual desire of increasing their capital--for the +worthy couple fell into the hands of a talented company, whose agents +robbed them at Frascati's in Paris, and again in Hamburg and various +health resorts, so that hardly a year had passed when Bodlevski one +fine night woke up to the fact that they no longer possessed a ruble. +But they had passed a brilliant year, their arrival in the great +cities had had its effect, and especially since Natasha had become a +person of title; in the course of the year she succeeded in purchasing +an Austrian barony at a very reasonable figure--a barony which, of +course, only existed on paper. + +When all his money was gone, there was nothing left for Bodlevski but +to enroll himself a member of the company which had so successfully +accomplished the transfer of his funds to their own pockets. Natasha's +beauty and Bodlevski's brains were such strong arguments that the +company willingly accepted them as new recruits. The two paid dear for +their knowledge, it is true, but their knowledge presently began to +bear fruit in considerable abundance. Day followed day, and year +succeeded year, a long series of horribly anxious nights, violent +feelings, mental perturbations, crafty and subtle schemes, a complete +cycle of rascalities, an entire science of covering up tracks, and the +perpetual shadow of justice, prison, and perhaps the scaffold. +Bodlevski, with his obstinate, persistent, and concentrated character, +reached the highest skill in card-sharping and the allied wiles. All +games of "chance" were for him games of skill. At thirty he looked at +least ten years older. The life he led, with its ceaseless effort, +endless mental work, perpetual anxiety, had made of him a fanatical +worshiper at the shrine of trickery. He dried up visibly in body and +grew old in mind, mastering all the difficult arts of his profession, +and only gained confidence and serenity when he had reached the +highest possible skill in every branch of his "work." From that moment +he took a new lease of life; he grew younger, he became gay and +self-confident, his health even visibly improved, and he assumed the +air and manner of a perfect gentleman. + +As for Natasha, her life and efforts in concert with Bodlevski by no +means had the same wearing effect on her as on him. Her proud, decided +nature received all these impressions quite differently. She continued +to blossom out, to grow handsomer, to enjoy life, to take hearts +captive. All the events which aroused so keen a mental struggle in her +companion she met with entire equanimity. The reason was this: When +she made up her mind to anything, she always decided at once and with +unusual completeness; a very short time given to keen and accurate +consideration, a rapid weighing of the gains and losses of the matter +in hand, and then she went forward coldly and unswervingly on her +chosen path. Her first aim in life had been revenge, then a brilliant +and luxurious life--and she knew that they would cost dear. Therefore, +once embarked on her undertaking, Natasha remained calm and +indifferent, brilliantly distinguished, and ensnaring the just and the +unjust alike. Her intellect, education, skill, resource, and innate +tact made it possible for her everywhere to gain a footing in select +aristocratic society, and to play by no means the least role there. +Many beauties envied her, detested her, spoke evil of her, and yet +sought her friendship, because she almost always queened it in +society. Her friendship and sympathy always seemed so cordial, so +sincere and tender, and her epigrams were so pointed and poisonous, +that every hostile criticism seemed to shrivel up in that glittering +fire, and there seemed to be nothing left but to seek her friendship +and good will. For instance, if things went well in Baden, one could +confidently foretell that at the end of the summer season Natasha +would be found in Nice or Geneva, queen of the winter season, the +lioness of the day, and the arbiter of fashion. She and Bodlevski +always behaved with such propriety and watchful care that not a shadow +ever fell on Natasha's fame. It is true that Bodlevski had to change +his name once or twice and to seek a new field for his talents, and to +make sudden excursions to distant corners of Europe--sometimes in +pursuit of a promising "job," sometimes to evade the too persistent +attentions of the police. So far everything had turned out favorably, +and his name "had remained unstained," when suddenly a slight mishap +befell. The matter was a trifling one, but the misfortune was that it +happened in Paris. There was a chance that it might find issue in the +courts and the hulks, so that there ensued a more than ordinarily +rapid change of passports and a new excursion--this time to Russia, +back to their native land again, after an absence of twenty years. +Thus it happened that the papers announced the arrival in St. +Petersburg of Baroness von Doering and Ian Vladislav Karozitch. + + + +IX + +THE CONCERT OF THE POWERS + + +A few days after there was a brilliant reunion at Princess +Shadursky's. All the beauty and fashion of St. Petersburg were +invited, and few who were invited failed to come. It happened that +Prince Shadursky was an admirer of the fair sex, and also that he had +had the pleasure of meeting the brilliant Baroness von Doering at +Hamburg, and again in Paris. It was, therefore, to be expected that +Baroness von Doering should be found in the midst of an admiring throng +at Princess Shadursky's reception. Her brother, Ian Karozitch, was +also there, suave, alert, dignified, losing no opportunity to make +friends with the distinguished company that thronged the prince's +rooms. + +Late in the evening the baroness and her brother might have been seen +engaged in a _tete-a-tete_, seated in two comfortable armchairs, and +anyone who was near enough might have heard the following +conversation: + +"How goes it?" Karozitch asked in a low tone. + +"As you see, I am making a hit," answered the baroness in the same +quiet tone. But her manner was so detached and indifferent that no one +could have guessed her remark was of the least significance. It should +be noted that this was her first official presentation to St. +Petersburg society. And in truth her beauty, united with her lively +intellect, her amiability, and her perfect taste in dress, had +produced a general and even remarkable effect. People talked about her +and became interested in her, and her first evening won her several +admirers among those well placed in society. + +"I have been paying attention to the solid capitalists," replied +Karozitch; "we have made our _debut_ in the _role_ of practical +actors. Well, what about him?" he continued, indicating Prince +Shadursky with his eyes. + +"In the web," she replied, with a subtle smile. + +"Then we can soon suck his brains?" + +"Soon--but he must be tied tighter first. But we must not talk here." +A moment later Karozitch and the baroness were in the midst of the +brilliant groups of guests. + +A few late comers were still arriving. "Count Kallash!" announced the +footman, who stood at the chief entrance to the large hall. + +At this new and almost unknown but high-sounding name, many eyes were +turned toward the door through which the newcomer must enter. A hum of +talk spread among the guests: + +"Count Kallash----" + +"Who is he----?" + +"It is a Hungarian name--I think I heard of him somewhere." + +"Is this his first appearance?" + +"Who is this Kallash? Oh, yes, one of the old Hungarian families----" + +"How interesting----" + +Such questions and answers crossed each other in a running fire among +the various groups of guests who filled the hall, when a young man +appeared in the doorway. + +He lingered a moment to glance round the rooms and the company; then, +as if conscious of the remarks and glances directed toward him, but +completely "ignoring" them, and without the least shyness or +awkwardness, he walked quietly through the hall to the host and +hostess of the evening. + +People of experience, accustomed to society and the ways of the great +world, can often decide from the first minute the _role_ which anyone +is likely to play among them. People of experience, at the first view +of this young man, at his first entrance, merely by the way he entered +the hall, decided that his _role_ in society would be brilliant--that +more than one feminine heart would beat faster for his presence, that +more than one dandy's wrath would be kindled by his successes. + +"How handsome he is!" a whisper went round among the ladies. The men +for the most part remained silent. A few twisted the ends of their +mustache and made as though they had not noticed him. This was already +enough to foreshadow a brilliant career. + +And indeed Count Kallash could not have passed unnoticed, even among a +thousand young men of his class. Tall and vigorous, wonderfully well +proportioned, he challenged comparison with Antinoues. His pale face, +tanned by the sun, had an expression almost of weariness. His high +forehead, with clustering black hair and sharply marked brows, bore +the impress of passionate feeling and turbulent thought strongly +repressed. It was difficult to define the color of his deep-set, +somewhat sunken eyes, which now flashed with southern fire, and were +now veiled, so that one seemed to be looking into an abyss. A slight +mustache and pointed beard partly concealed the ironical smile that +played on his passionate lips. The natural grace of good manners and +quiet but admirably cut clothes completed the young man's exterior, +behind which, in spite of all his reticence, could be divined a +haughty and exceptional nature. A more profound psychologist would +have seen in him an obstinately passionate, ungrateful nature, which +takes from others everything it desires, demanding it from them as a +right and without even a nod of acknowledgment. Such was Count +Nicholas Kallash. + +A few days after the reception at Prince Shadursky's Baroness von +Doering was installed in a handsome apartment on Mokhovoi Street, at +which her "brother," Ian Karozitch, or, to give him his former name, +Bodlevski, was a frequent visitor. By a "lucky accident" he had met on +the day following the reception our old friend Sergei Antonovitch +Kovroff, the "captain of the Golden Band." Their recognition was +mutual, and, after a more or less faithful recital of the events of +the intervening years, they had entered into an offensive and +defensive alliance. + +When Baroness von Doering was comfortably settled in her new quarters, +Sergei Antonovitch brought a visitor to Bodlevski: none other than the +Hungarian nobleman, Count Nicholas Kallash. + +"_Gentlemen, you are strangers_; let me introduce you to each other," +said Kovroff, presenting Count Kallash to Bodlevski. + +"Very glad to know you," answered the Hungarian count, to Bodlevski's +astonishment in Russian; "very glad, indeed! I have several times had +the honor of hearing of you. Was it not you who had some trouble about +forged notes in Paris?" + +"Oh, no! You are mistaken, dear count!" answered Bodlevski, with a +pleasant smile. "The matter was not of the slightest importance. The +amount was a trifle and I was unwilling even to appear in court!" + +"You preferred a little journey to Russia, didn't you?" Kovroff +remarked with a smile. + +"Little vexations of that kind may happen to anyone," said Bodlevski, +ignoring Kovroff's interruption. "You yourself, dear count, had some +trouble about some bonds, if I am not mistaken?" + +"You are mistaken," the count interrupted him sharply. "I have had +various troubles, but I prefer not to talk about them." + +"Gentlemen," interrupted Kovroff, "we did not come here to quarrel, +but to talk business. Our good friend, Count Kallash," he went on, +turning to Bodlevski, "wishes to have the pleasure of cooperating in +our common undertaking, and--I can recommend him very highly." + +"Ah!" said Bodlevski, after a searching study of the count's face. "I +understand! the baroness will return in a few minutes and then we can +discuss matters at our leisure." + +But in spite of this understanding it was evident that Bodlevski and +Count Kallash had not impressed each other very favorably. This, +however, did not prevent the concert of the powers from working +vigorously together. + + +X + +AN UNEXPECTED REUNION + + +On the wharf of the Fontauka, not far from Simeonovski Bridge, a crowd +was gathered. In the midst of the crowd a dispute raged between an old +woman, tattered, disheveled, miserable, and an impudent-looking youth. +The old woman was evidently stupid from misery and destitution. + +While the quarrel raged a new observer approached the crowd. He was +walking leisurely, evidently without an aim and merely to pass the +time, so it is not to be wondered at that the loud dispute arrested +his attention. + +"Who are you, anyway, you old hag? What is your name?" cried the +impudent youth. + +"My name? My name?" muttered the old woman in confusion. "I am a--I am +a princess," and she blinked at the crowd. + +Everyone burst out laughing. "Her Excellency, the Princess! Make way +for the Princess!" cried the youth. + +The old woman burst into sudden anger. + +"Yes, I tell you, I am a princess by birth!" and her eyes flashed as +she tried to draw herself up and impose on the bantering crowd. + +"Princess What? Princess Which? Princess How?" cried the impudent +youth, and all laughed loudly. + +"No! Not Princess How!" answered the old woman, losing the last shred +of self-restraint; "but Princess Che-che-vin-ski! Princess Anna +Chechevinski!" + +When he heard this name Count Kallash started and his whole expression +changed. He grew suddenly pale, and with a vigorous effort pushed his +way through the crowd to the miserable old woman's side. + +"Come!" he said, taking her by the arm. "Come with me! I have +something for you!" + +"Something for me?" answered the old woman, looking up with stupid +inquiry and already forgetting the existence of the impudent youth. +"Yes, I'll come! What have you got for me?" + +Count Kallash led her by the arm out of the crowd, which began to +disperse, abashed by his appearance and air of determination. +Presently he hailed a carriage, and putting the old woman in, ordered +the coachman to drive to his rooms. + +There he did his best to make the miserable old woman comfortable, and +his housekeeper presently saw that she was washed and fed, and soon +the old woman was sleeping in the housekeeper's room. + +To explain this extraordinary event we must go back twenty years. + +In 1838 Princess Anna Chechevinski, then in her twenty-sixth year, had +defied her parents, thrown to the winds the traditions of her princely +race, and fled with the man of her choice, followed by her mother's +curses and the ironical congratulations of her brother, who thus +became sole heir. + +After a year or two she was left alone by the death of her companion, +and step by step she learned all the lessons of sorrow. From one stage +of misfortune to another she gradually fell into the deepest misery, +and had become a poor old beggar in the streets when Count Kallash +came so unexpectedly to her rescue. + +It will be remembered that, as a result of Natasha's act of vengeance, +the elder Princess Chechevinski left behind her only a fraction of the +money her son expected to inherit. And this fraction he by no means +hoarded, but with cynical disregard of the future he poured money out +like water, gambling, drinking, plunging into every form of +dissipation. Within a few months his entire inheritance was +squandered. + +Several years earlier Prince Chechevinski had taken a deep interest in +conjuring and had devoted time and care to the study of various forms +of parlor magic. He had even paid considerable sums to traveling +conjurers in exchange for their secrets. Naturally gifted, he had +mastered some of the most difficult tricks, and his skill in card +conjuring would not have done discredit even to a professional +magician. + +The evening when his capital had almost melted away and the shadow of +ruin lay heavy upon him, he happened to be present at a reception +where card play was going on and considerable sums were staked. + +A vacancy at one of the tables could not be filled, and, in spite of +his weak protest of unwillingness, Prince Chechevinski was pressed +into service. He won for the first few rounds, and then began to lose, +till the amount of his losses far exceeded the slender remainder of +his capital. A chance occurred where, by the simple expedient of +neutralizing the cut, mere child's play for one so skilled in +conjuring, he was able to turn the scale in his favor, winning back in +a single game all that he had already lost. He had hesitated for a +moment, feeling the abyss yawning beneath him; then he had falsed, +made the pass, and won the game. That night he swore to himself that +he would never cheat again, never again be tempted to dishonor his +birth; and he kept his oath till his next run of bad luck, when he +once more neutralized the cut and turned the "luck" in his direction. + +The result was almost a certainty from the outset, Prince Chechevinski +became a habitual card sharper. + +For a long time fortune favored him. His mother's reputation for +wealth, the knowledge that he was her sole heir, the high position of +the family, shielded him from suspicion. Then came the thunderclap. He +was caught in the act of "dealing a second" in the English Club, and +driven from the club as a blackleg. Other reverses followed: a public +refusal on the part of an officer to play cards with him, followed by +a like refusal to give him satisfaction in a duel; a second occasion +in which he was caught redhanded; a criminal trial; six years in +Siberia. After two years he escaped by way of the Chinese frontier, +and months after returned to Europe. For two years he practiced his +skill at Constantinople. Then he made his way to Buda-Pesth, then to +Vienna. While in the dual monarchy, he had come across a +poverty-stricken Magyar noble, named Kallash, whom he had sheltered in +a fit of generous pity, and who had died in his room at the Golden +Eagle Inn. Prince Chechevinski, who had already borne many aliases, +showed his grief at the old Magyar's death by adopting his name and +title; hence it was that he presented himself in St. Petersburg in the +season of 1858 under the high-sounding title of Count Kallash. + +An extraordinary coincidence, already described, had brought him face +to face with his sister Anna, whom he had never even heard of in all +the years since her flight. He found her now, poverty-stricken, +prematurely old, almost demented, and, though he had hated her +cordially in days gone by, his pity was aroused by her wretchedness, +and he took her to his home, clothed and fed her, and surrounded her +with such comforts as his bachelor apartment offered. + +In the days that followed, every doubt he might have had as to her +identity was dispelled. She talked freely of their early childhood, of +their father's death, of their mother; she even spoke of her brother's +coldness and hostility in terms which drove away the last shadow of +doubt whether she was really his sister. But at first he made no +corresponding revelations, remaining for her only Count Kallash. + + +XI + +THE PHOTOGRAPH ALBUM + + +Little by little, however, as the poor old woman recovered something +of health and strength, his heart went out toward her. Telling her +only certain incidents of his life, he gradually brought the narrative +back to the period, twenty years before, immediately after their +mother's death, and at last revealed himself to his sister, after +making her promise secrecy as to his true name. Thus matters went on +for nearly two years. + +The broken-down old woman lived in his rooms in something like +comfort, and took pleasure in dusting and arranging his things. One +day, when she was tidying the sitting room, her brother was startled +by a sudden exclamation, almost a cry, which broke from his sister's +lips. + +"Oh, heaven, it is she!" she cried, her eyes fixed on a page of the +photograph album she had been dusting. "Brother, come here; for +heaven's sake, who is this?" + +"Baroness von Doering," curtly answered Kallash, glancing quickly at +the photograph. "What do you find interesting in her?" + +"It is either she or her double! Do you know who she looks like?" + +"Lord only knows! Herself, perhaps!" + +"No, she has a double! I am sure of it! Do you remember, at mother's, +my maid Natasha?" + +"Natasha?" the count considered, knitting his brows in the effort to +recollect. + +"Yes, Natasha, my maid. A tall, fair girl. A thick tress of chestnut +hair. She had such beautiful hair! And her lips had just the same +proud expression. Her eyes were piercing and intelligent, her brows +were clearly marked and joined together--in a word, the very original +of this photograph!" + +"Ah," slowly and quietly commented the count, pressing his hand to his +brow. "Exactly. Now I remember! Yes, it is a striking likeness." + +"But look closely," cried the old woman excitedly; "it is the living +image of Natasha! Of course she is more matured, completely developed. +How old is the baroness?" + +"She must be approaching forty. But she doesn't look her age; you +would imagine her to be about thirty-two from her appearance." + +"There! And Natasha would be just forty by now!" + +"The ages correspond," answered her brother. + +"Yes." Princess Anna sighed sadly. "Twenty-two years have passed since +then. But if I met her face to face I think I would recognize her at +once. Tell me, who is she?" + +"The baroness? How shall I tell you? She has been abroad for twenty +years, and for the last two years she has lived here. In society she +says she is a foreigner, but with me she is franker, and I know that +she speaks Russian perfectly. She declares that her husband is +somewhere in Germany, and that she lives here with her brother." + +"Who is the 'brother'?" asked the old princess curiously. + +"The deuce knows! He is also a bit shady. Oh, yes! Sergei Kovroff +knows him; he told me something about their history; he came here with +a forged passport, under the name of Vladislav Karozitch, but his real +name is Kasimir Bodlevski." + +"Kasimir Bodlevski," muttered the old woman, knitting her brows. "Was +he not once a lithographer or an engraver, or something of the sort?" + +"I think he was. I think Kovroff said something about it. He is a fine +engraver still." + +"He was? Well, there you are!" and Princess Anna rose quickly from her +seat. "It is she--it is Natasha! She used to tell me she had a +sweetheart, a Polish hero, Bodlevski. And I think his name was +Kasimir. She often got my permission to slip out to visit him; she +said he worked for a lithographer, and always begged me to persuade +mother to liberate her from serfdom, so that she could marry him." + +This unexpected discovery meant much to Kallash. Circumstances, +hitherto slight and isolated, suddenly gained a new meaning, and were +lit up in a way that made him almost certain of the truth. He now +remembered that Kovroff had once told him of his first acquaintance +with Bodlevski, when he came on the Pole at the Cave, arranging for a +false passport; he remembered that Natasha had disappeared immediately +before the death of the elder Princess Chechevinski, and he also +remembered how, returning from the cemetery, he had been cruelly +disappointed in his expectations when he had found in the strong box a +sum very much smaller than he had always counted on, and with some +foundation; and before him, with almost complete certainty, appeared +the conclusion that the maid's disappearance was connected with the +theft of his mother's money, and especially of the securities in his +sister's name, and that all this was nothing but the doing of Natasha +and her companion Bodlevski. + +"Very good! Perhaps this information will come in handy!" he said to +himself, thinking over his future measures and plans. "Let us see--let +us feel our way--perhaps it is really so! But I must go carefully and +keep on my guard, and the whole thing is in my hands, dear baroness! +We will spin a thread from you before all is over." + + +XII + +THE BARONESS AT HOME + + +Every Wednesday Baroness von Doering received her intimate friends. She +did not care for rivals, and therefore ladies were not invited to +these evenings. The intimate circle of the baroness consisted of our +Knights of Industry and the "pigeons" of the bureaucracy, the world of +finance, the aristocracy, which were the objects of the knights' +desires. + +It often happened, however, that the number of guests at these +intimate evenings went as high as fifty, and sometimes even more. + +The baroness was passionately fond of games of chance, and always sat +down to the card table with enthusiasm. But as this was done +conspicuously, in sight of all her guests, the latter could not fail +to note that fortune obstinately turned away from the baroness. She +almost never won on the green cloth; sometimes Kovroff won, sometimes +Kallash, sometimes Karozitch, but with the slight difference that the +last won more seldom and less than the other two. + +Thus every Wednesday a considerable sum found its way from the +pocketbook of the baroness into that of one of her colleagues, to find +its way back again the next morning. The purpose of this clever scheme +was that the "pigeons" who visited the luxurious salons of the +baroness, and whose money paid the expenses of these salons, should +not have the smallest grounds for suspicion that the dear baroness's +apartment was nothing but a den of sharpers. Her guests all considered +her charming, to begin with, and also rich and independent and +passionate by nature. This explained her love of play and the +excitement it brought, and which she would not give up, in spite of +her repeated heavy losses. + +Her colleagues, the Knights of Industry, acted on a carefully devised +and rigidly followed plan. They were far from putting their uncanny +skill in motion every Wednesday. So long as they had no big game in +sight, the game remained clean and honest. In this way the band might +lose two or three thousand rubles, but such a loss had no great +importance, and was soon made up when some fat "pigeon" appeared. + +It sometimes happened that this wily scheme of honest play went on for +five or six weeks in succession, so that the small fry, winning the +band's money, remained entirely convinced that it was playing in an +honorable and respectable private house, and very naturally spread +abroad the fame of it throughout the whole city. But when the fat +pigeon at last appeared, the band put forth all its forces, all the +wiles of the black art, and in a few hours made up for the generous +losses of a month of honorable and irreproachable play on the green +cloth. + +Midnight was approaching. + +The baroness's rooms were brilliantly lit up, but, thanks to the thick +curtains which covered the windows, the lights could not be seen from +the street, though several carriages were drawn up along the sidewalk. + +Opening into the elegant drawing-room was a not less elegant card +room, appreciatively nicknamed the Inferno by the band. In it stood a +large table with a green cloth, on which lay a heap of bank notes and +two little piles of gold, before which sat Sergei Antonovitch Kovroff, +presiding over the bank with the composure of a true gentleman. + +What Homeric, Jovine calm rested on every feature of his face! What +charming, fearless self-assurance, what noble self-confidence in his +smile, in his glance! What grace, what distinction in his pose, and +especially in the hand which dealt the cards! Sergei Kovroff's hands +were decidedly worthy of attention. They were almost always clad in +new gloves, which he only took off on special occasions, at dinner, or +when he had some writing to do, or when he sat down to a game of +cards. As a result, his hands were almost feminine in their delicacy, +the sensibility of the finger tips had reached an extraordinary degree +of development, equal to that of one born blind. And those fingers +were skillful, adroit, alert, their every movement carried out with +that smooth, indefinable grace which is almost always possessed by the +really high-class card sharper. His fingers were adorned with numerous +rings, in which sparkled diamonds and other precious stones. And it +was not for nothing that Sergei Kovroff took pride in them! This +glitter of diamonds, scattering rainbow rays, dazzled the eyes of his +fellow players. When Sergei Kovroff sat down to preside over the bank, +the sparkling of the diamonds admirably masked those motions of his +fingers which needed to be masked; they almost insensibly drew away +the eyes of the players from his fingers, and this was most of all +what Sergei Kovroff desired. + +Round the table about thirty guests were gathered. Some of them sat, +but most of them played standing, with anxious faces, feverishly +sparkling eyes, and breathing heavily and unevenly. Some were pale, +some flushed, and all watched with passionate eagerness the fall of +the cards. There were also some who had perfect command of themselves, +distinguished by extraordinary coolness, and jesting lightly whether +they lost or won. But such happily constituted natures are always a +minority when high play is going on. + +Silence reigned in the Inferno. There was almost no conversation; only +once in a while was heard a remark, in a whisper or an undertone, +addressed by a player to his neighbor; the only sound was that short, +dry rustle of the cards and the crackling of new bank notes, or the +tinkle of gold coins making their way round the table from the bank to +the players, and from the players back to the bank. + +The two Princes Shadursky, father and son, both lost heavily. They sat +opposite Sergei Kovroff, and between them sat Baroness von Doering, who +played in alliance with them. The clever Natasha egged them on, +kindling their excitement with all the skill and calculation possible +to one whose blood was as cold as the blood of a fish, and both the +Shadurskys had lost their heads, no longer knowing how much they were +losing. + + +XIII + +AN EXPLANATION + + +Count Kallash and his sister had just breakfasted when the count's +French footman entered the study. + +"Madame la baronne von Doering!" he announced obsequiously. + +Brother and sister exchanged a rapid glance. + +"Now is our opportunity to make sure," said Kallash, with a smile. + +"If it is she, I shall recognize her by her voice," whispered Princess +Anna. "Shall I remain here or go?" + +"Remain in the meantime; it will be a curious experience. _Faites +entrer_!" he added to the footman. + +A moment later light, rapid footsteps were heard in the entrance hall, +and the rustling of a silk skirt. + +"How do you do, count! I have come to see you for a moment. I came in +all haste, on purpose. I have come _in person_, you must be duly +appreciative! Vladislav is too busy, and the matter is an important +one. I wanted to see you at the earliest opportunity. Well, we may all +congratulate ourselves. Fate and fortune are decidedly on our side!" +said the baroness, speaking rapidly, as she entered the count's study. + +"What has happened? What is the news?" asked the count, going forward +to meet her. + +"We have learned that the Shadurskys have just received a large sum of +money; they have sold an estate, and the purchaser has paid them in +cash. Our opportunity has come. Heaven forbid that we should lose it! +We must devise a plan to make the most of it." + +The baroness suddenly stopped short in the middle of the sentence, and +became greatly confused, noticing that there was a third person +present. + +"Forgive me! I did not give you warning," said the count, shrugging +his shoulders and smiling; "permit me! _Princess Anna Chechevinski!_" +he continued with emphasis, indicating his poor, decrepit sister. "Of +course you would not have recognized her, baroness." + +"But _I_ recognized Natasha immediately," said the old woman quietly, +her eyes still fixed on Natasha's face. + +The baroness suddenly turned as white as a sheet, and with trembling +hands caught the back of a heavy armchair. + +Kallash with extreme politeness assisted her to a seat. + +"You didn't expect to meet me, Natasha?" said the old woman gently and +almost caressingly, approaching her. + +"I do not know you. Who are you?" the baroness managed to whisper, by +a supreme effort. + +"No wonder; I am so changed," replied Princess Anna. "But _you_ are +just the same. There is hardly any change at all." + +Natasha began to recover her composure. + +"I don't understand you," she said coldly, contracting her brows. + +"But I understand _you_ perfectly." + +"Allow me, princess," Kallash interrupted her, "permit me to have an +explanation with the baroness; she and I know each other well. And if +you will pardon me, I shall ask you in the meantime to withdraw." + +And he courteously conducted his sister to the massive oak doors, +which closed solidly after her. + +"What does this mean?" said the baroness, rising angrily, her gray +eyes flashing at the count from under her broad brows. + +"A coincidence," answered Kallash, shrugging his shoulders with an +ironical smile. + +"How a coincidence? Speak clearly!" + +"The former mistress has recognized her former maid--that is all." + +"How does this woman come to be here? Who is she?" + +"I have told you already; Princess Anna Chechevinski. And as to how +she came here, that was also a coincidence, and a strange one." + +"Impossible!" exclaimed the baroness. + +"Why impossible? They say the dead sometimes return from the tomb, and +the princess is still alive. And why should the matter not have +happened thus, for instance? Princess Anna Chechevinski's maid Natasha +took advantage of the confidence and illness of the elder princess to +steal from her strong box, with the aid of her sweetheart, Kasimir +Bodlevski, money and securities--mark this, baroness--securities in +the name of Princess Anna. And might it not happen that this same +lithographer Bodlevski should get false passports at the Cave, for +himself and his sweetheart, and flee with her across the frontier, and +might not this same maid, twenty years later, return to Russia under +the name of Baroness von Doering? You must admit that there is nothing +fantastic in all this! What is the use of concealing? You see I know +everything!" + +"And what follows from all this?" replied the baroness with a forced +smile of contempt. + +"Much _may_ follow from it," significantly but quietly replied +Kallash. "But at present the only important matter is, that I know +all. I repeat it--_all_." + +"Where are your facts?" asked the baroness. + +"Facts? Hm!" laughed Kallash. "If facts are needed, they will be +forthcoming. Believe me, dear baroness, that if I had not legally +sufficient facts in my hands, I would not have spoken to you of this." + +Kallash lied, but lied with the most complete appearance of +probability. + +The baroness again grew confused and turned white. + +"Where are your facts? Put them in my hands!" she said at last, after +a prolonged silence. + +"Oh, this is too much! Get hold of them yourself!" the count replied, +with the same smile. "The facts are generally set forth to the +prisoner by the court; but it is enough for you in the meantime to +know that the facts exist, and that they are in my possession. +Believe, if you wish. If you do not wish, do not believe. I will +neither persuade you nor dissuade you." + +"And this means that I am in your power? she said slowly, raising her +piercing glance to his face. + +"Yes; it means that you are in my power," quietly and confidently +answered Count Kallash. + +"But you forget that you and I are in the same boat." + +"You mean that I am a sharper, like you and Bodlevski? Well, you are +right. We are all berries of the same bunch--except _her_" (and he +indicated the folding doors). "She, thanks to many things, has tasted +misery, but she is honest. But we are all rascals, and I first of all. +You are perfectly right in that. If you wish to get me in your +power--try to find some facts against me. Then we shall be quits!" + +"And what is it you wish?" + +"It is too late for justice, at least so far as she is concerned," +replied the count, with a touch of sadness; "but it is not too late +for a measure of reparation. But we can discuss that later," he went +on more lightly, as if throwing aside the heavy impression produced by +the thought of Princess Anna's misery. "And now, dear baroness, let us +return to business, the business of Prince Shadursky! I will think the +matter over, and see whether anything suggests itself." + +He courteously conducted the baroness to the carriage, and they +parted, to all appearance, friends. But there were dangerous elements +for both in that seeming friendship. + + +XIV + +GOLD MINING + + +A wonderful scheme was hatched in Count Kallash's fertile brain. +Inspired by the thought of Prince Shadursky's newly replenished +millions, he devised a plan for the gang which promised brilliant +results, and only needed the aid of a discreet and skillful +confederate. And what confederate could be more trustworthy than +Sergei Antonovitch Kovroff? So the two friends were presently to be +found in secret consultation in the count's handsome study, with a +bottle of good Rhine wine before them, fine cigars between their lips, +and the memory of a well-served breakfast lingering pleasantly in +their minds. They were talking about the new resources of the +Shadurskys. + +"To take their money at cards--what a wretched business--and so +infernally commonplace," said Count Kallash. "To tell you the truth, I +have for a long time been sick of cards! And, besides, time is money! +Why should we waste several weeks, or even months, over something that +could be done in a few days?" + +Kovroff agreed completely, but at the same time put the question, if +not cards, what plan was available? + +"That is it exactly!" cried Kallash, warming up. "I have thought it +all over. The problem is this: we must think up something that would +surprise Satan himself, something that would make all Hades smile and +blow us hot kisses. But what of Hades?--that's all nonsense. We must +do something that will make the whole Golden Band throw up their caps. +That is what we have to do!" + +"Quite a problem," lazily answered Kovroff, chewing the end of his +cigar. "But you are asking too much." + +"But that is not all," the count interrupted him; "listen! This is +what my problem demands. We must think of some project that unites two +precious qualities: first, a rapid and huge profit; second, entire +absence of risk." + +"Conditions not altogether easy to fulfill," remarked Kovroff +doubtfully. + +"So it seems. And daring plans are not to be picked up in the street, +but are the result of inspiration. It is what is called a 'heavenly +gift,' my dear friend." + +"And you have had an inspiration?" smiled Sergei Antonovitch, with a +slightly ironical shade of friendly skepticism. + +"I have had an inspiration," replied the supposititious Hungarian +nobleman, falling into the other's tone. + +"And your muse is----?" + +"The tenth of the muses," the count interrupted him: "another name is +Industry." + +"She is the muse of all of us." + +"And mine in particular. But we are not concerned with her, but with +her prophetic revelations." + +"Oh, dear count! Circumlocutions apart! This Rhine wine evidently +carries you to misty Germany. Tell me simply what the matter is." + +"The matter is simply this: we must institute a society of 'gold +miners,' and we must find gold in places where the geological +indications are dead against it. That is the problem. The Russian +laws, under threat of arrest and punishment, sternly forbid the +citizens of the Russian Empire, and likewise the citizens of other +lands within the empire, to buy or sell the noble metals in their +crude form, that is, in nuggets, ore, or dust. For example, if you +bought gold in the rough from me--gold dust, for example--we should +both, according to law, have to take a pleasant little trip beyond the +Ural Mountains to Siberia, and there we should have to engage in +mining the precious metal ourselves. A worthy occupation, no doubt, +but not a very profitable one for us." + +"Our luxuries would be strictly limited," jested Kovroff, with a wry +smile. + +"There it is! You won't find many volunteers for that occupation, and +that is the fulcrum of my whole plan. You must understand that gold +dust in the mass is practically indistinguishable in appearance from +brass filings. Let us suppose that we secretly sell some perfectly +pure brass filings for gold dust, and that they are readily bought of +us, because we sell considerably below the market rate. It goes +without saying that the purchaser will presently discover that we have +done him brown. But, I ask you, will he go and accuse us knowing that, +as the penalty for his purchase, he will have to accompany us along +the Siberian road?" + +"No man is his own enemy," sententiously replied Kovroff, beginning to +take a vivid interest in what his companion was saying. "But how are +you going to work it?" + +"You will know at the proper time. The chief thing is, that our +problem is solved in the most decisive manner. You and I are pretty +fair judges of human nature, so we may be pretty sure that we shall +always find purchasers, and I suggest that we make a beginning on +young Prince Shadursky. How we shall get him into it is my business. +I'll tell you later on. But how do you like the general idea of my +plan?" + +"It's clever enough!" cried Kovroff, pressing his hand with the gay +enthusiasm of genuine interest. + +"For this truth much thanks!" cried Kallash, clinking glasses with +him. "It is clever--that is the best praise I could receive from you. +Let us drink to the success of my scheme!" + + +XV + +THE FISH BITES + + +Three days after this conversation the younger prince Shadursky dined +with Sergei Antonovitch Kovroff. + +That morning he received a note from Kovroff, in which the worthy +Sergei complained of ill health and begged the prince to come and dine +with him and cheer him up. + +The prince complied with his request, and appearing at the appointed +time found Count Kallash alone with his host. + +Among other gossip, the prince announced that he expected shortly to +go to Switzerland, as he had bad reports of the health of his mother, +who was in Geneva. + +At this news Kallash glanced significantly toward Kovroff. + +Passing from topic to topic, the conversation finally turned to the +financial position of Russia. Sergei Antonovitch, according to his +expression, "went to the root of the matter," and indicated the +"source of the evil," very frankly attacking the policy of the +government, which did everything to discourage gold mining, hedging +round this most important industry with all kinds of difficulties, and +practically prohibiting the free production of the precious metals by +laying on it a dead weight of costly formalities. + +"I have facts ready to hand," he went on, summing up his argument. "I +have an acquaintance here, an employee of one of the best-known men in +the gold-mining industry." Here Kovroff mentioned a well-known name. +"He is now in St. Petersburg. Well, a few days ago he suddenly came to +me as if he had something weighing on his mind. And I have had +business relations with him in times past. Well, what do you think? He +suddenly made me a proposal, secretly of course; would I not take some +gold dust off his hands? You must know that these trusted employees +every year bring several hundred pounds of gold from Asia, and of +course it stands to reason that they cannot get rid of it in the +ordinary way, but smuggle it through private individuals. It is +uncommonly profitable for the purchasers, because they buy far below +the market rates. So there are plenty of purchasers. Several of the +leading jewelers" (and here he named three or four of the best-known +firms) "never refuse such a deal, and last year a banking house in +Berlin bought a hundred pounds' weight of gold through agents here. +Well, this same employee, my acquaintance, is looking for an +opportunity to get rid of his wares. And he tells me he managed to +bring in about forty pounds of gold, if not more. I introduce this +fact to illustrate the difficulties put in the way of enterprise by +our intelligent government." + +Shadursky did not greatly occupy himself with serious questions and he +was totally ignorant of all details of financial undertakings. It was, +therefore, perfectly easy for Sergei Antonovitch to assume a tone of +solid, practical sense, which imposed completely on the young prince. +Young Shadursky, from politeness, and to prove his worldly wisdom, +assented to Kovroff's statements with equal decision. All the same, +from this conversation, he quite clearly seized on the idea that under +certain circumstances it would be possible to buy gold at a much lower +price than that demanded by the Imperial Bank. And this was just the +thought which Kallash and Kovroff wished to sow in the young prince's +mind. + +"Of course, I myself do not go in for that kind of business," went on +Kovroff carelessly, "and so I could not give my friend any help. But +if some one were going abroad, for instance, he might well risk such +an operation, which would pay him a very handsome profit." + +"How so? In what way?" asked Shadursky. + +"Very simply. You buy the goods here, as I already said, much below +the government price. So that to begin with you make a very profitable +bargain. Then you go abroad with your wares and there, as soon as the +exchange value of gold goes up, you can sell it at the nearest bank. I +know, for instance, that the agent of the ---- Bank" (and he mentioned +a name well known in St. Petersburg) "made many a pretty penny for +himself by just such a deal. This is how it was: He bought gold dust +for forty thousand rubles, and six weeks later got rid of it in +Hamburg for sixty thousand. Whatever you may say, fifty per cent on +your capital in a month and a half is pretty good business." + +"Deuce take it! A pretty profitable bargain, without a doubt!" cried +Shadursky, jumping from his chair. "It would just suit me! I could get +rid of it in Geneva or Paris," he went on in a jesting tone. + +"What do you think? Of course!" Sergei Antonovitch took him up, but in +a serious tone. "You or some one else--in any case it would be a good +bargain. For my acquaintance has to go back to Asia, and has only a +few days to spare. He doesn't know where to turn and rather than take +his gold back with him, he would willingly let it go at an even lower +rate than the smugglers generally ask. If I had enough free cash I +would go in for it myself." + +"It looks a good proposition," commented Count Kallash. + +"It is certainly very enticing; what do you think?" said Prince +Shadursky interrogatively, folding his arms. + +"Hm--yes! very enticing," answered Kovroff. "A fine chance for anyone +who has the money." + +"I would not object! I would not object!" protested Shadursky. +"Suppose you let me become acquainted with your friend." + +"You? Well--" And Kovroff considered; "if you wish. Why not? Only I +warn you, first, if you are going to buy, buy quickly, for my friend +can't wait; and secondly, keep the matter a complete secret, for very +unpleasant results might follow." + +"That goes without saying. That stands to reason," assented Shadursky. +"I can get the money at once and I am just going abroad, in a day or +two at the latest. So it would be foolish to miss such a chance. So it +is a bargain?" And he held out his hand to Kovroff. + +"How a bargain?" objected the cautious Sergei Antonovitch. "I am not +personally concerned in the matter, and you must admit, my dear +prince, that I can make no promises for my acquaintance." + +"I don't mean that!" cried Shadursky. "I only ask you to arrange for +me to meet him. Bring us together--and drop him a hint that I do not +object to buying his wares. You will confer a great obligation on me." + +"Oh, that is quite a different matter. That I can always do; the more +so, because we are such good friends. Why should I not do you such a +trifling service? As far as an introduction is concerned, you may +count on it." And they cordially shook each other by the hand. + + +XVI + +GOLD DUST + + +Both Kallash and Kovroff were too cautious to take an immediate, +personal part in the gold-dust sale. There was a certain underling, +Mr. Escrocevitch by name, at Sergei Kovroff's beck and call--a shady +person, rather dirty in aspect, and who was, therefore, only admitted +to Sergei's presence by the back door and through the kitchen, and +even then only at times when there were no outsiders present. + +Mr. Escrocevitch was a person of general utility and was especially +good at all kinds of conjuring tricks. Watches, snuff-boxes, +cigar-cases, silver spoons, and even heavy bronze paper-weights +acquired the property of suddenly vanishing from under his hands, and +of suddenly reappearing in a quite unexpected quarter. This valuable +gift had been acquired by Mr. Escrocevitch in his early years, when he +used to wander among the Polish fairs, swallowing burning flax for the +delectation of the public and disgorging endless yards of ribbon and +paper. + +Mr. Escrocevitch was a precious and invaluable person also owing to +his capacity of assuming any _role_, turning himself into any given +character, and taking on the corresponding tone, manners, and +appearance, and he was, further, a pretty fair actor. + +He it was who was chosen to play the part of the Siberian employee. + +Not more than forty-eight hours had passed since the previous +conversation. Prince Shadursky was just up, when his footman announced +to him that a Mr. Valyajnikoff wished to see him. + +The prince put on his dressing gown and went into the drawing-room, +where the tolerably presentable but strangely dressed person of Mr. +Escrocevitch presented itself to him. + +"Permit me to have the honor of introducing myself," he began, bowing +to Prince Shadursky; "I am Ivanovitch Valyajnikoff. Mr. Sergei +Antonovitch Kovroff was so good as to inform me of a certain intention +of yours about the dust. So, if your excellency has not changed your +mind, I am ready to sell it to you with pleasure." + +"Very good of you," answered Prince Shadursky, smiling gayly, and +giving him a chair. + +"To lose no time over trifles," continued Mr. Escrocevitch, "let me +invite you to my quarters. I am staying at a hotel; you can see the +goods there; you can make tests, and, if you are satisfied, I shall be +very happy to oblige your excellency." + +Prince Shadursky immediately finished dressing, ordered his carriage, +and went out with the supposititious Valyajnikoff. They drove to a +shabby hotel and went to a dingy room. + +"This is my poor abode. I am only here on the wing, so to speak. I +humbly request you to be seated," Mr. Escrocevitch said obsequiously. +"Not to lose precious time, perhaps your excellency would like to look +at my wares? Here they are--and I am most willing to show them." + +And he dragged from under the bed a big trunk, in which were five +canvas bags of various sizes, packed full and tied tightly. + +"Here, here it is! This is our Siberian dust," he said, smiling and +bowing, indicating the trunk with a wave of his hand, as if +introducing it to Prince Shadursky. + +"Would not your excellency be so good as to choose one of these bags +to make a test? It will be much better if you see yourself that the +business is above board, with no swindle about it. Choose whichever +you wish!" + +Shadursky lifted one of the bags from the trunk, and when Mr. +Escrocevitch untied it before the young prince's eyes appeared a mass +of metallic grains, at which he gazed not without inward pleasure. + +"How are you going to make a test?" he asked. "We have no blow-pipes +nor test-tubes here?" + +"Make your mind easy, your excellency! We shall find everything we +require--blow-pipes and test-tubes and nitric acid, and even a decimal +weighing machine. In our business we arrange matters in such a way +that we need not disturb outsiders. Only charcoal we haven't got, but +we can easily send for some." + +And going to the door, he gave the servant in the passage an order, +and a few minutes later the latter returned with a dish of charcoal. + +"First class! Now everything is ready," cried Mr. Escrocevitch, +rubbing his hands; and for greater security he turned the key in the +door. + +"Take whichever piece of charcoal you please, your excellency; but, +not to soil your hands, you had better let me take it myself, and you +sprinkle some of the dust on it," and he humbled himself before the +prince. "Forgive me for asking you to do it all yourself, since it is +not from any lack of politeness on my part, but simply in order that +your excellency should be fully convinced that there is no deception." +Saying this, he got his implements ready and lit the lamp. + +The blow-pipe came into action. Valyajnikoff made the experiment, and +Shadursky attentively followed every movement. The charcoal glowed +white hot, the dust ran together and disappeared, and in its place, +when the charcoal had cooled a little, and the amateur chemist +presented it to Prince Shadursky, the prince saw a little ball of gold +lying in a crevice of the charcoal, such as might easily have formed +under the heat of the blow-pipe. + +"Take the globule, your excellency, and place it, for greater +security, in your pocketbook," said Escrocevitch; "you may even wrap +it up in a bit of paper; and keep the sack of gold dust yourself, so +that there can be no mistake." + +Shadursky gladly followed this last piece of advice. + +"And now, your excellency, I should like you kindly to select another +bag; we shall make two or three more tests in the same way." + +The prince consented to this also. + +Escrocevitch handed him a new piece of charcoal to sprinkle dust on, +and once more brought the blow-pipe into operation. And again the +brass filings disappeared and in the crevice appeared a new globule of +gold. + +"Well, perhaps these two tests will be sufficient. What is your +excellency good enough to think on that score?" asked the supposed +Valyajnikoff. + +"What is the need of further tests? The matter is clear enough," +assented the prince. + +"If it is satisfactory, we shall proceed to make it even more +satisfactory. Here we have a touch-stone, and here we have some nitric +acid. Try the globules on the touch-stone physically, and, so to +speak, with the nitric acid chemically. And if you wish to make even +more certain, this is what we shall do. What quantity of gold does +your excellency wish to take?" + +"The more the better. I am ready to buy all these bags." + +"_Very_ much obliged to your excellency, as this will suit me +admirably," said Escrocevitch, bowing low. "And so, if your excellency +is ready, then I humbly beg you to take each bag, examine it, and seal +it with your excellency's own seal. Then let us take one of the +globules and go to one of the best jewelers in St. Petersburg. Let him +tell us the value of the gold and in this way the business will be +exact; there will be no room for complaint on either side, since +everything will be fair and above board." + +The prince was charmed with the honesty and frankness of Mr. +Valyajnikoff. + +They went together to one of the best-known jewelers, who, in their +presence, made a test and announced that the gold was chemically pure, +without any alloy, and therefore of the highest value. + +On their return to the hotel, Mr. Escrocevitch weighed the bags, which +turned out to weigh forty-eight pounds. Allowing three pounds for the +weight of the bags, this left forty-five pounds of pure gold. + +"How much a pound do you want?" Shadursky asked him. + +"A pretty low price, your excellency," answered the Siberian, with a +shrug of his shoulders, "as I am selling from extreme necessity, +because I have to leave for Siberia; I've spent too much time and +money in St. Petersburg already; and if I cannot sell my wares, I +shall not be able to go at all. I assume that the government price is +known to your excellency?" + +"But I am willing to take two hundred rubles a pound." + +I can't take a kopeck less, and even so I am making a reduction of +nearly a hundred rubles the pound." + +"All right!" assented Shadursky. "That will amount to--" he went on, +knitting his brows, "forty-five pounds at two hundred rubles a +pound----" + +"It will make exactly nine thousand, your excellency. Just exactly +nine," Escrocevitch obsequiously helped him out. The prince, cutting +the matter short, immediately gave him a check, and taking the trunk +with the coveted bags, drove with the Siberian employee to his +father's house, where the elder Prince Shadursky, at his son's +pressing demand, though very unwillingly, exchanged the check for nine +thousand rubles in bills, for which Ivan Ivanovitch Valyajnikoff +forthwith gave a receipt. The prince was delighted with his purchase, +and he did not utter a syllable about it to anyone except Kovroff. + +Sergei Antonovitch gave him a friendly counsel not to waste any time, +but to go abroad at once, as, according to the _Exchange Gazette_, +gold was at that moment very high, so that he had an admirable +opportunity to get rid of his wares on very favorable terms. + +The prince, in fact, without wasting time got his traveling passport, +concealed his purchase with the utmost care, and set out for the +frontier, announcing that he was on his way to his mother, whose +health imperatively demanded his presence. + +The success of the whole business depended on the fact that brass +filings, which bear a strong external resemblance to gold dust, are +dissipated in the strong heat of the blow-pipe. The charcoal was +prepared beforehand, a slight hollow being cut in it with a penknife, +in the bottom of which is placed a globule of pure gold, the top of +which is just below the level of the charcoal, and the hollow is +filled up with powdered charcoal mixed with a little bees-wax. The +"chemist" who makes the experiments must make himself familiar with +the distinctive appearance of the charcoal, so as to pick it out from +among several pieces, and must remember exactly where the crevice is. + +On this first occasion, Escrocevitch had prepared all four pieces of +charcoal, which were brought by the servant in the passage. He chose +as his temporary abode a hotel whose proprietor was an old ally of +his, and the servant was also a confederate. + +Thus was founded the famous "Gold Products Company," which is still in +very successful operation, and is constantly widening its sphere of +activity. + + +XVII + +THE DELUGE + + +Count Kallash finally decided on his course of action. It was too late +to seek justice for his sister, but not too late for a tardy +reparation. The gang had prospered greatly, and the share of Baroness +von Doering and Bodlevski already amounted to a very large figure. +Count Kallash determined to demand for his sister a sum equal to that +of the securities in her name which Natasha had stolen, calculating +that this would be enough to maintain his sister in peace and comfort +to the end of her days. His own life was too stormy, too full of risks +for him to allow his sister's fate to depend on his, so he had decided +to settle her in some quiet nook where, free from danger, she might +dream away her few remaining years. + +To his surprise Baroness von Doering flatly refused to be put under +contribution. + +"Your demand is outrageous," she said. "I am not going to be the +victim of any such plot!" + +"Very well, I will compel you to unmask?" + +"To unmask? What do you mean, count? You forget yourself!" + +"Well, then, I shall try to make you remember me!" And Kallash turned +his back on her and strode from the room. A moment later, and she +heard the door close loudly behind him. + +The baroness had already told Bodlevski of her meeting with Princess +Anna, and she now hurried to him for counsel. They agreed that their +present position, with Kallash's threats hanging over their heads, was +intolerable. But what was to be done? + +Bodlevski paced up and down the room, biting his lips, and seeking +some decisive plan. + +"We must act in such a way," he said, coming to a stand before the +baroness, "as to get rid of this fellow once for all. I think he is +dangerous, and it never does any harm to take proper precautions. Get +the money ready, Natasha; we must give it to him." + +"What! give him the money!" and the baroness threw up her hands. "Will +that get us out of his power? Can we feel secure? It will only last +till something new happens. At the first occasion----" + +"Which will also be the last!" interrupted Bodlevski. "Suppose we do +give him the money to-day; does that mean that we give it for good? +Not at all! It will be back in my pocket to-morrow! Let us think it +out properly!" and he gave her a friendly pat on the shoulder, and sat +down in an easy chair in front of her. + +The result of their deliberations was a little note addressed to Count +Kallash: + +"DEAR COUNT," it ran, "I was guilty of an act of folly toward you +to-day. I am ashamed of it, and wish to make amends as soon as +possible. We have always been good friends, so let us forget our +little difference, the more so that an alliance is much more +advantageous to us both than a quarrel. Come this evening to receive +the money you spoke of, and to clasp in amity the hand of your devoted +friend, VON D." + +Kallash came about ten o'clock in the evening, and received from +Bodlevski the sum of fifty thousand rubles in notes. The baroness was +very amiable, and persuaded him to have some tea. There was not a +suggestion of future difficulties, and everything seemed to promise +perfect harmony for the future. Bodlevski talked over plans of future +undertakings, and told him, with evident satisfaction, that they had +just heard of the arrest of the younger Prince Shadursky, in Paris, +for attempting to defraud a bank by a pretended sale of gold dust. +Count Kallash was also gay, and a certain satisfaction filled his mind +at the thought of his sister's security, as he felt the heavy packet +of notes in his pocket. He smoked his cigar with evident satisfaction, +sipping the fragrant tea from time to time. The conversation was gay +and animated, and for some reason or other turned to the subject of +clubs. + +"Ah, yes," interposed Bodlevski, "_a propos_! I expect to be a member +of the Yacht Club this summer. Let me recommend to you a new field of +action. They will disport themselves on the green water, and we on the +green cloth! By the way, I forgot to speak of it--I bought a boat the +other day, a mere rowboat. It is on the Fontauka Canal, at the +Simeonovski bridge. We must come for a row some day." + +"Delightful," exclaimed the baroness. "But why some day? Why not +to-night? The moon is beautiful, and, indeed, it is hardly dark at +midnight. Your speaking of boats has filled me with a sudden desire to +go rowing. What do you say, dear count?" and she turned amiably to +Kallash. + +Count Kallash at once consented, considering the baroness's idea an +admirable one, and they were soon on their way toward the Simeonovski +bridge. + +"How delightful it is!" cried the baroness, some half hour later, as +they were gliding over the quiet water. "Count, do you like strong +sensations?" she asked suddenly. + +"I am fond of strong sensations of every kind," he replied, taking up +her challenge. + +"Well, I am going to offer you a little sensation, though it always +greatly affects me. Everything is just right for it, and I am in the +humor, too." + +"What is it to be?" asked Count Kallash indifferently. + +"You will see in a moment. Do you know that there are underground +canals in St. Petersburg?" + +"In St. Petersburg?" asked Kallash in astonishment. + +"Yes, in St. Petersburg! A whole series of underground rivers, wide +enough for a boat to pass through. I have rowed along them several +times. Does not that offer a new sensation, something quite unlike St. +Petersburg?" + +"Yes, it is certainly novel," answered Count Kallash, now interested. +"Where are they? Pray show them to me." + +"There is one a few yards off. Shall we enter? You are not afraid?" +she said with a smile of challenge. + +"By no means--unless you command me to be afraid," Kallash replied in +the same tone. "Let us enter at once!" + +"Kasimir, turn under the arch!" and the boat cut across the canal +toward a half circle of darkness. A moment more and the darkness +engulfed them completely. They were somewhere under the Admiralty, not +far from St. Isaac's Cathedral. Away ahead of them was a tiny half +circle of light, where the canal joined the swiftly flowing Neva. +Carriages rumbled like distant thunder above their heads. + +"Deuce take it! it is really rather fine!" cried the count, with +evident pleasure. "A meeting of pirates is all we need to make it +perfect. It is a pity that we cannot see where we are!" + +"Light a match. Have you any?" said the baroness. + +"I have, and wax matches, too." The count took out a match and lit it, +and the underground stream was lit by a faint ruddy glow. The channel, +covered by a semi-circular arch, was just wide enough for one boat to +pass through, with oars out. The black water flowed silently by in a +sluggish, Stygian stream. Bats, startled by the light, fluttered in +their faces, and then disappeared in the darkness. + +As the boat glided on, the match burned out in Count Kallash's +fingers. He threw it into the water, and opened his matchbox to take +another. + +At the same moment he felt a sharp blow on the head, followed by a +second, and he sank senseless in the bottom of the boat. + +"Where is the money?" cried Bodlevski, who had struck him with the +handle of the oar. "Get his coat open!" and the baroness deftly drew +the thick packet from the breast pocket of his coat. "Here it is! I +have it!" she replied quickly. + +"Now, overboard with him! Keep the body steady!" A dull splash, and +then silence. "To-night we shall sleep secure!" + +They counted without their host. Princess Anna had also her scheme of +vengeance, and had worked it out, without a word to her brother. When +Natasha and Bodlevski entered their apartment, they found the police +in possession, and a few minutes later both were under arrest. +Abundant evidence of fraud and forgery was found in their dwelling, +and the vast Siberian solitudes avenged the death of their last +victim. + + + +JOeRGEN WILHELM BERGSOeE + + +_THE AMPUTATED ARMS_ + + +It happened when I was about eighteen or nineteen years old (began Dr. +Simsen). I was studying at the University, and being coached in +anatomy by my old friend Soelling. He was an amusing fellow, this +Solling. Full of jokes and whimsical ideas, and equally merry, whether +he was working at the dissecting table or brewing a punch for a jovial +crowd. + +He had but one fault--if one might call it so--and that was his +exaggerated idea of punctuality. He grumbled if you were late two +minutes; any longer delay would spoil the entire evening for him. He +himself was never known to be late. At least not during the entire +years of my studying. + +One Wednesday evening our little circle of friends met as usual in my +room at seven o'clock. I had made the customary preparations for the +meeting, had borrowed three chairs--I had but one myself--had cleaned +all my pipes, and had persuaded Hans to take the breakfast dishes from +the sofa and carry them downstairs. One by one my friends arrived, the +clock struck seven, and to our great astonishment, Solling had not yet +appeared. One, two, even five minutes passed before we heard him run +upstairs and knock at the door with his characteristic short blows. + +When he entered the room he looked so angry and at the same time so +upset that I cried out: "What's the matter, Solling? You look as if +you had been robbed." + +"That's exactly what has happened," replied Solling angrily. "But it +was no ordinary sneak thief," he added, hanging his overcoat behind +the door. + +"What have you lost?" asked my neighbor Nansen. + +"Both arms from the new skeleton I've just recently received from the +hospital," said Soelling with an expression as if his last cent had +been taken from him. "It's vandalism!" + +We burst out into loud laughter at this remarkable answer, but Soelling +continued: "Can you imagine it? Both arms are gone, cut off at the +shoulder joint;--and the strangest part of it is that the same thing +has been done to my shabby old skeleton which stands in my bedroom, +There wasn't an arm on either of them." + +"That's too bad," I remarked. "For we were just going to study the +_anatomy_ of the arm to-night." + +"Osteology," corrected Soelling gravely. "Get out your skeleton, little +Simsen. It isn't as good as mine, but it will do for this +evening." + +I went to the corner where my anatomical treasures were hidden behind +a green curtain--"the Museum," was what Soelling called it--but my +astonishment was great when I found my skeleton in its accustomed +place and wearing as usual my student's uniform--but without arms. + +"The devil!" cried Soelling. "That was done by the same person who +robbed me; the arms are taken off at the shoulder joint in exactly the +same manner. You did it, Simsen!" + +I declared my innocence, very angry at the abuse of my fine skeleton, +while Nansen cried: "Wait a moment, I'll bring in mine. There hasn't +been a soul in my room since this morning, I can swear to that. I'll +be back in an instant." + +He hurried into his room, but returned in a few moments greatly +depressed and somewhat ashamed. The skeleton was in its usual place, +but the arms were gone, cut off at the shoulder in exactly the same +manner as mine. + +The affair, mysterious in itself, had now come to be a serious matter. +We lost ourselves in suggestions and explanations, none of which +seemed to throw any light on the subject. Finally we sent a messenger +to the other side of the house where, as I happened to know, was a new +skeleton which the young student Ravn had recently received from the +janitor of the hospital. + +Ravn had gone out and taken the key with him. The messenger whom we +had sent to the rooms of the Iceland students returned with the +information that one of them had used the only skeleton they possessed +to pummel the other with, and that consequently only the thigh bones +were left unbroken. + +What were we to do? We couldn't understand the matter at all. Soelling +scolded and cursed and the company was about to break up when we heard +some one coming noisily upstairs. The door was thrown open and a tall, +thin figure appeared on the threshold--our good friend Niels Daae. + +He was a strange chap, this Niels Daae, the true type of a species +seldom found nowadays. He was no longer young, and by reason of a +queer chain of circumstances, as he expressed it, he had been through +nearly all the professions and could produce papers proving that he +had been on the point of passing not one but three examinations. + +He had begun with theology; but the story of the quarrel between Jacob +and Esau had led him to take up the study of law. As a law student he +had come across an interesting poisoning case, which had proved to him +that a study of medicine was extremely necessary for lawyers; and he +had taken up the study of medicine with such energy that he had +forgotten all his law and was about to take his last examinations at +the age of forty. + +Niels Daae took the story of our troubles very seriously. "Every pot +has two handles," he began. "Every sausage two ends, every question +two sides, except this one--this has three." (Applause.) "When we look +at it from the legal point of view there can be no doubt that it +belongs in the category of ordinary theft. But from the fact that the +thief took only the arms when he might have taken the entire skeleton, +we must conclude that he is not in a responsible condition of mind, +which therefore introduces a medical side to the affair. From a legal +point of view, the thief must be convicted for robbery, or at least +for the illegal appropriation of the property of others; but from the +medical point of view, we must acquit him, because he is not +responsible for his acts. Here we have two professions quarreling with +one another, and who shall say which is right? But now I will +introduce the theological point of view, and raise the entire affair +up to a higher plane. Providence, in the material shape of a patron of +mine in the country, whose children I have inoculated with the juice +of wisdom, has sent me two fat geese and two first-class ducks. These +animals are to be cooked and eaten this evening in Mathiesen's +establishment, and I invite this honored company to join me there. +Personally I look upon the disappearance of these arms as an all-wise +intervention of Providence, which sets its own inscrutable wisdom up +against the wisdom which we would otherwise have heard from the lips +of my venerable friend Soelling." + +Daae's confused speech was received with laughter and applause, and +Soelling's weak protests were lost in the general delight at the +invitation. I have often noticed that such improvised festivities are +usually the most enjoyable, and so it was for us that evening. Niels +Daae treated us to his ducks and to his most amusing jokes, Soelling +sang his best songs, our jovial host Mathiesen told his wittiest +stories, and the merriment was in full swing when we heard cries in +the street, and then a rush of confused noises broken by screams of +pain. + +"There's been an accident," cried Soelling, running out to the door. + +We all followed him and discovered that a pair of run-away horses had +thrown a carriage against a tree, hurling the driver from his box, +under the wheels. His right arm had been broken near the shoulder. In +the twinkling of an eye the hall of festivities was transformed into +an emergency hospital. Soelling shook his head as he examined the +injury, and ordered the transport of the patient to the city hospital. +It was his belief that the arm would have to be amputated, cut off at +the shoulder joint, just as had been the case with our skeleton. +"Damned odd coincidence, isn't it?" he remarked to me. + +Our merry mood had vanished and we took our way, quiet and depressed, +through the old avenues toward our home. For the first time in its +existence possibly, our venerable "barracks," as we called the +dormitory, saw its occupants returning home from an evening's bout +just as the night watchman intoned his eleven o'clock verse. + +"Just eleven," exclaimed Soelling. "It's too early to go to bed, and +too late to go anywhere else. We'll go up to your room, little Simsen, +and see if we can't have some sort of a lesson this evening. You have +your colored plates and we'll try to get along with them. It's a +nuisance that we should have lost those arms just this evening." + +"The Doctor can have all the arms and legs he wants," grinned Hans, +who came out of the doorway just in time to hear Soelling's last word. + +"What do you mean, Hans?" asked Soelling in astonishment. + +"It'll be easy enough to get them," said Hans. "They've torn down the +planking around the Holy Trinity churchyard, and dug up the earth to +build a new wall. I saw it myself, as I came past the church. Lord, +what a lot of bones they've dug out there! There's arms and legs and +heads, many more than the Doctor could possibly need." + +"Much good that does us," answered Soelling. "They shut the gates at +seven o'clock and it's after eleven already." + +"Oh, yes, they shut them," grinned Hans again. "But there's another +way to get in. If you go through the gate of the porcelain factory and +over the courtyard, and through the mill in the fourth courtyard that +leads out into Spring Street, there you will see where the planking is +torn down and you can get into the churchyard easily." + +"Hans, you're a genius!" exclaimed Soelling in delight. "Here, Simsen, +you know that factory inside and out, you're so friendly with that +fellow Outzen who lives there. Run along to him and let him give you +the key of the mill. It will be easy to find an arm that isn't too +much decayed. Hurry along, now; the rest of us will wait for you +upstairs." + +To be quite candid I must confess that I was not particularly eager to +fulfill Soelling's command. I was at an age to have still a sufficient +amount of reverence for death and the grave, and the mysterious +occurrence of the stolen arms still ran through my mind. But I was +still more afraid of Soelling's irony and of the laughter of my +comrades, so I trotted off as carelessly as if I had been sent to buy +a package of cigarettes. + +It was some time before I could arouse the old janitor of the factory +from his peaceful slumbers. I told him that I had an important message +from Outzen, and hurried upstairs to the latter's room. Outzen was a +strictly moral character; knowing this, I was prepared to have him +refuse me the key which would let me into the fourth courtyard and +from there into the cemetery. As I expected, Outzen took the matter +very seriously. He closed the Hebrew Bible which he had been studying +as I entered, turned up his lamp and looked at me in astonishment as I +made my request. + +"Why, my dear Simsen, it is a most sinful deed that you are about to +do," he said gravely. "Take my advice and desist. You will get no key +from me for any such cause. The peace of the grave is sacred. No man +dare disturb it." + +"And how about the gravedigger? He puts the newly dead down beside the +old corpses, and lives as peacefully as anyone else." + +"He is doing his duty," answered Outzen calmly. "But to disturb the +peace of the grave from sheer daring, with the fumes of the punch +still in your head,--that is a different matter,--that will surely be +punished!" + +His words irritated me. It is not very flattering, particularly if one +is not yet twenty, to be told that you are about to perform a daring +deed simply because you are drunk. Without any further reply to his +protests I took the key from its place on the wall and ran downstairs +two steps at a time, vowing to myself that I would take home an arm +let cost what it would. I would show Outzen, and Soelling, and all the +rest, what a devil of a fellow I was. + +My heart beat rapidly as I stole through the long dark corridor, past +the ruins of the old convent of St. Clara, into the so-called third +courtyard. Here I took a lantern from the hall, lit it and crossed to +the mill where the clay was prepared for the factory. The tall wheels +and cylinders, with their straps and bolts, looked like weird +creatures of the night in the dim light of my tallow candle. I felt my +courage sinking even here, but I pulled myself together, opened the +last door with my key and stepped out into the fourth courtyard. A +moment later I stood on the dividing line between the cemetery and the +factory. + +The entire length of the tall blackened planking had been torn down. +The pieces of it lay about, and the earth had been dug up to +considerable depth, to make a foundation for a new wall between Life +and Death. The uncanny emptiness of the place seized upon me. I halted +involuntarily as if to harden myself against it. It was a raw, cold, +stormy evening. The clouds flew past the moon in jagged fragments, so +that the churchyard, with its white crosses and stones, lay now in +full light, now in dim shadow. Now and then a rush of wind rattled +over the graves, roared through the leafless trees, bent the +complaining bushes, and caught itself in the little eddy at the corner +of the church, only to escape again over the roofs, turning the old +weather vane with a sharp scream of the rusty iron. + +I looked toward the left--there I saw several weird white shapes +moving gently in the moonlight. "White sheets," I said to myself, +"it's nothing but white sheets! This drying of linen in the churchyard +ought to be stopped." + +I turned in the opposite direction and saw a heap of bones scarce two +paces distant from me. Holding my lantern lower, I approached them and +stretched out my hand--there was a rattling in the heap; something +warm and soft touched my fingers. + +I started and shivered. Then I exclaimed: "The rats! nothing but the +rats in the churchyard! I must not get frightened. It will be so +foolish--they would laugh at me. Where the devil is that arm? I can't +find one that isn't broken!" + +With trembling knees and in feverish haste I examined one heap after +another. The light in my lantern flickered in the wind and suddenly +went out. The foul smell of the smoking wick rose to my face and I +felt as if I were about to faint. It took all my energy to recover my +control. I walked two or three steps ahead, and saw at a little +distance a coffin which had been still in good shape when taken out of +the earth. + +I approached it and saw that it was of old-fashioned shape, made of +heavy oaken boards that were already rotting. On its cover was a metal +plate with an illegible inscription. The old wood was so brittle that +it would have been very easy for me to open the coffin with any sort +of a tool. I looked about me and saw a hatchet and a couple of spades +lying near the fence. I took one of the latter, put its flat end +between the boards--the old coffin fell apart with a dull crackling +protest. + +I turned my head aside, put my hand in through the opening, felt +about, and taking a firm hold on one arm of the skeleton, I loosened +it from the body with a quick jerk. The movement loosened the head as +well, and it rolled out through the opening right to my very feet. I +took up the skull to lay it in the coffin again--and then I saw a +greenish phosphorescent glimmer in its empty eye sockets, a glimmer +which came and went. Mad terror shook me at the sight. I looked up at +the houses in the distance, then back again to the skull; the empty +sockets shone more brightly than before. I felt that I must have some +natural explanation for this appearance or I would go mad. I took up +the head again--and never in my life have I had so overpowering an +impression of the might of death and decay than in this moment. +Myriads of disgusting clammy insects poured out of every opening of +the skull, and a couple of shining, wormlike centipedes--_Geophiles_, +the scientists call them--crawled about in the eye sockets. I threw +the skull back into the coffin, sprang over the heaps of bones without +even taking time to pick up my lantern, and ran like a hunted thing +through the dark mill, over the factory courtyards, until I reached +the outer gate. Here I washed the arm at the fountain, and smoothed my +disarranged clothing. I hid my booty under my overcoat, nodded to the +sleepy old janitor as he opened the door to me, and a few moments +later I entered my own room with an expression which I had attempted +to make quite calm and careless. + +"What the devil is the matter with you, Simsen?" cried Soelling as he +saw me. "Have you seen a ghost? Or is the punch wearing off already? +We thought you'd never come; why, it's nearly twelve o'clock!" + +Without a word I drew back my overcoat and laid my booty on the table. + +"By all the devils," exclaimed Soelling in anatomical enthusiasm, +"where did you find that superb arm? Simsen knows what he's about all +right. It's a girl's arm; isn't it beautiful? Just look at the +hand--how fine and delicate it is! Must have worn a No. 6 glove. +There's a pretty hand to caress and kiss!" + +The arm passed from one to the other amid general admiration. Every +word that was said increased my disgust for myself and for what I had +done. It was a woman's arm, then--what sort of a woman might she have +been? Young and beautiful possibly--her brothers' pride, her parents' +joy. She had faded away in her youth, cared for by loving hands and +tender thoughts. She had fallen asleep gently, and those who loved her +had desired to give her in death the peace she had enjoyed throughout +her lifetime. For this they had made her coffin of thick, heavy oaken +boards. And this hand, loved and missed by so many--it lay there now +on an anatomical table, encircled by clouds of tobacco smoke, stared +at by curious glances, and made the object of coarse jokes. O God! how +terrible it was! + +"I must have that arm," exclaimed Soelling, when the first burst of +admiration had passed. "When I bleach it and touch it up with varnish, +it will be a superb specimen. I'll take it home with me." + +"No," I exclaimed, "I can't permit it. It was wrong of me to bring it +away from the churchyard. I'm going right back to put the arm in its +place." + +"Well, will you listen to that?" cried Soelling, amid the hearty +laughter of the others. "Simsen's so lyric, he certainly must be +drunk. I must have that arm at any cost." + +"Not much," cut in Niels Daae; "you have no right to it. It was buried +in the earth and dug out again; it is a find, and all the rest of us +have just as much right to it as you have." + +"Yes, every one of us has some share in it," said some one else. + +"But what are you going to do about it?" remarked Soelling. "It would +be vandalism to break up that arm. What God has joined together let no +man put asunder," he concluded with pathos. + +"Let's auction it off," exclaimed Daae. "I will be the auctioneer, and +this key to the graveyard will serve me for a hammer." + +The laughter broke out anew as Daae took his place solemnly at the +head of the table and began to whine out the following announcement: +"I hereby notify all present that on the 25th of November, at twelve +o'clock at midnight, in corridor No. 5 of the student barracks, a +lady's arm in excellent condition, with all its appurtenances of wrist +bones, joints, and finger tips, is to be offered at public auction. +The buyer can have possession of his purchase immediately after the +auction, and a credit of six weeks will be given to any reliable +customer. I bid a Danish shilling." + +"One mark," cried Soelling mockingly. + +"Two," cried somebody else. + +"Four," exclaimed Soelling. "It's worth it. Why don't you join in, +Simsen? You look as if you were sitting in a hornet's nest." + +I bid one mark more, and Soelling raised me a thaler. There were no +more bids, the hammer fell, and the arm belonged to Soelling. + +"Here, take this," he said, handing me a mark piece; "it's part of +your commission as grave robber. You shall have the rest later, unless +you prefer that I should turn it over to the drinking fund." With +these words Soelling wrapped the arm in a newspaper, and the gay crowd +ran noisily down the stairs and through the streets, until their +singing and laughter were lost in the distance. + +I stood alone, still dazed and bewildered, staring at the piece of +money in my hand. My thoughts were far too much excited that I should +hope to sleep. I turned up my lamp and took out one of my books to try +and study myself into a quieter mood. But without success. + +Suddenly I heard a sound like that of a swinging pendulum. I raised my +head and listened attentively. There was no clock either in my room or +in the neighboring ones--but I could still hear the sound. At the same +moment my lamp began to flicker. The oil was apparently exhausted. I +was about to rise to fill it again, when my eyes fell upon the door, +and I saw the graveyard key, which I had hung there, moving slowly +back and forth with a rhythmic swing. Just as its motion seemed about +to die away, it would receive a gentle push as from an unseen hand, +and would swing back and forth more than ever. I stood there with open +mouth and staring eyes, ice-cold chills ran down my back, and drops of +perspiration stood out on my forehead. Finally, I could endure it no +longer. I sprang to the door, seized the key with both hands and put +it on my desk under a pile of heavy books. Then I breathed a sigh of +relief. + +My lamp was about to go out and I discovered that I had no more oil. +With feverish haste I threw my clothes off, blew out the light and +sprang into bed as if to smother my fears. + +But once alone in the darkness the fears grew worse than ever. They +grew into dreams and visions. It seemed to me as if I were out in the +graveyard again, and heard the screaming of the rusty weather vane as +the wind turned it. Then I was in the mill again; the wheels were +turning and stretching out ghostly hands to draw me into the yawning +maw of the machine. Then again, I found myself in a long, low, +pitch-black corridor, followed by Something I could not see--Something +that drove me to the mouth of a bottomless abyss. I would start up out +of my half sleep, listen and look about me, then fall back again into +an uneasy slumber. + +Suddenly something fell from the ceiling onto the bed, and +"buzz--buzz--buzz" sounded about my head. It was a huge fly which had +been sleeping in a corner of my room and had been roused by the heat +of the stove. It flew about in great circles, now around the bed, now +in all four corners of the chamber--"buzz--buzz--buzz"--it was +unendurable! At last I heard it creep into a bag of sugar which had +been left on the window sill. I sprang up and closed the bag tight. +The fly buzzed worse than ever, but I went back to bed and attempted +to sleep again, feeling that I had conquered the enemy. + +I began to count: I counted slowly to one hundred, two hundred, +finally up to one thousand, and then at last I experienced that +pleasant weakness which is the forerunner of true sleep. I seemed to +be in a beautiful garden, bright with many flowers and odorous with +all the perfumes of spring. At my side walked a beautiful young girl. +I seemed to know her well, and yet it was not possible for me to +remember her name, or even to know how we came to be wandering there +together. As we walked slowly through the paths she would stop to pick +a flower or to admire a brilliant butterfly swaying in the air. +Suddenly a cold wind blew through the garden. The young girl trembled +and her cheeks grew pale. "I am cold," she said to me, "do you not +see? It is Death who is approaching us." + +I would have answered, but in the same moment another stronger and +still more icy gust roared through the garden. The leaves turned pale +on the trees, the flowerets bent their heads, and the bees and +butterflies fell lifeless to the earth. "That is Death," whispered my +companion, trembling. + +A third icy gust blew the last leaves from the bushes, white crosses +and gravestones appeared between the bare twigs--and I was in the +churchyard again and heard the screaming of the rusty weather vane. +Beside me stood a heavy brass-bound coffin with a metal plate on the +cover. I bent down to read the inscription, the cover rolled off +suddenly, and from out the coffin rose the form of the young girl who +had been with me in the garden. I stretched out my arms to clasp her +to my breast--then, oh horror! I saw the greenish-gleaming, empty eye +sockets of the skull. I felt bony arms around me, dragging me back +into the coffin. I screamed aloud for help and woke up. + +My room seemed unusually light; but I remembered that it was a +moonlight night and thought no more of it. I tried to explain the +visions of my dream with various natural noises about me. The +imprisoned fly buzzed as loudly as a whole swarm of bees; one half of +my window had blown open, and the cold night air rushed in gusts into +my room. + +I sprang up to close the window, and then I saw that the strong white +light that filled my room did not come from the moon, but seemed to +shine out from the church opposite. I heard the chiming of the bells, +soft at first, as if in far distance, then stronger and stronger +until, mingled with the rolling notes of the organ, a mighty rush of +sound struck against my windows. I stared out into the street and +could scarcely believe my eyes. The houses in the market place just +beyond were all little one-story buildings with bow windows and wooden +eave troughs ending in carved dragon heads. Most of them had balconies +of carved woodwork, and high stone stoops with gleaming brass rails. + +But it was the church most of all that aroused my astonishment. Its +position was completely changed. Its front turned toward our house +where usually the side had stood. The church was brilliantly lighted, +and now I perceived that it was this light which filled my room. I +stood speechless amid the chiming of the bells and the roaring of the +organ, and I saw a long wedding procession moving slowly up the center +aisle of the church toward the altar. The light was so brilliant that +I could distinguish each one of the figures. They were all in strange +old-time costumes; the ladies in brocades and satins with strings of +pearls in their powdered hair, the gentlemen in uniform with knee +breeches, swords, and cocked hats held under their arms. But it was +the bride who drew my attention most strongly. She was clothed in +white satin, and a faded myrtle wreath was twisted through the +powdered locks beneath her sweeping veil. The bridegroom at her side +wore a red uniform and many decorations. Slowly they approached the +altar, where an old man in black vestments and a heavy white wig was +awaiting them. They stood before him, and I could see that he was +reading the ritual from a gold-lettered book. + +One of the train stepped forward and unbuckled the bridegroom's sword, +that his right hand might be free to take that of the bride. She +seemed about to raise her own hand to his, when she suddenly sank +fainting at his feet. The guests hurried toward the altar, the lights +went out, the music stopped, and the figures floated together like +pale white mists. + +But outside in the square it was still brighter than before, and I +suddenly saw the side portal of the church burst open and the wedding +procession move out across the market place. + +I turned as if to flee, but could not move a muscle. Quiet, as if +turned to stone, I stood and watched the ghostly figures that came +nearer and nearer. The clergyman led the train, then came the +bridegroom and the bride, and as the latter raised her eyes to me I +saw that it was the young girl of the garden. Her eyes were so full of +pain, so full of sad entreaty that I could scarce endure them; but how +shall I explain the feeling that shot through me as I suddenly +discovered that the right sleeve of her white satin gown hung empty at +her side? The train disappeared, and the tone of the church bells +changed to a strange, dry, creaking sound, and the gate below me +complained as it turned on its rusty hinges. I faced toward my own +door. I knew that it was shut and locked, but I knew that the ghostly +procession were coming to call me to account, and I felt that no walls +could keep them out. My door flew open, there was a rustling as of +silken gowns, but the figures seemed to float in in the changing forms +of swaying white mists. Closer and closer they gathered around me, +robbing me of breath, robbing me of the power to move. There was a +silence as of the grave--and then I saw before me the old priest with +his gold-lettered book. He raised his hand and spoke with a soft, deep +voice: "The grave is sacred! Let no one dare to disturb the peace of +the dead." + +"The grave is sacred!" an echo rolled through the room as the swaying +figures moved like reeds in the wind. + +"What do you want? What do you demand?" I gasped in the grip of a +deathly fear. + +"Give back to the grave that which belongs to it," said the deep voice +again. + +"Give back to the grave that which belongs to it," repeated the echo +as the swaying forms pressed closer to me. + +"But it's impossible--I can't--I have sold it--sold it at auction!" I +screamed in despair. "It was buried and found in the earth--and sold +for five marks eight shillings----" + +A hideous scream came from the ghostly ranks. They threw themselves +upon me as the white fog rolls in from the sea, they pressed upon me +until I could no longer breathe. Beside myself, I threw open the window +and attempted to spring out, screaming aloud: "Help! help! murder! +they are murdering me!" + +The sound of my own voice awoke me. I found myself in my night clothes +on the window sill, one leg already out of the window and both hands +clutching at the center post. On the street below me stood the night +watchman, staring up at me in astonishment, while faint white clouds +of mist rolled out of my window like smoke. All around outside lay the +November fog, gray and moist, and as the fresh air of the early dawn +blew cool on my face I felt my senses returning to me. I looked down +at the night watchman--God bless him! He was a big, strong, +comfortably fat fellow made of real flesh and blood, and no ghost +shape of the night. I looked at the round tower of the church--how +massive and venerable it stood there, gray in the gray of the morning +mists. I looked over at the market place. There was a light in the +baker shop and a farmer stood before it, tying his horse to a post. +Back in my own room everything was in its usual place. Even the little +paper bag with the sugar lay there on the window sill, and the +imprisoned fly buzzed louder than ever. I knew that I was really awake +and that the day was coming. I sprang back hastily from the window and +was about to jump into bed, when my foot touched something hard and +sharp. + +I stooped to see what it was, felt about on the floor in the half +light, and touched a long, dry, skeleton arm which held a tiny roll of +paper in its bony fingers. I felt about again, and found still another +arm, also holding a roll of paper. Then I began to think that my +reason must be going. What I had seen thus far was only an unusually +vivid dream--a vision of my heated imagination. But I knew that I was +awake now, and yet here lay two--no, three (for there was still +another arm)--hard, undeniable, material proofs that what I had +thought was hallucination, might have been reality. Trembling in the +thought that madness was threatening me, I tore open the first roll of +paper. On it was written the name: "Soelling." I caught at the second +and opened it. There stood the word: "Nansen." + +I had just strength enough left to catch the third paper and open +it--there was my own name: "Simsen." + +Then I sank fainting to the floor. + +When I came to myself again, Niels Daae stood beside me with an empty +water bottle, the contents of which were dripping off my person and +off the sofa upon which I was lying. "Here, drink this," he said in a +soothing tone. "It will make you feel better." + +I looked about me wildly, as I sipped at the glass of brandy which put +new life into me once more. "What has happened?" I asked weakly. + +"Oh, nothing of importance," answered Niels. "You were just about to +commit suicide by means of charcoal gas. Those are mighty bad +ventilators on your old stove there. The wind must have blown them +shut, unless you were fool enough to close them yourself before you +went to bed. If you had not opened the window, you would have already +been too far along the path to Paradise to be called back by a glass +of brandy. Take another." + +"How did you get up here?" I asked, sitting upright on the sofa. + +"Through the door in the usual simple manner," answered Niels Daae. "I +was on watch last night in the hospital; but Mathiesen's punch is +heavy and my watching was more like sleeping, so I thought it better +to come away in the early morning. As I passed your barracks here, I +saw you sitting in the window in your nightshirt and calling down to +the night watchman that some one was murdering you. I managed to wake +up Jansen down below you, and got into the house through his window. +Do you usually sleep on the bare floor?" + +"But where did the arms come from?" I asked, still half bewildered. + +"Oh, the devil take those arms," cried Niels. "Just see if you can +stand up all right now. Oh, those arms there? Why, those are the arms +I cut off your skeletons. Clever idea, wasn't it? You know how grumpy +Soelling gets if anything interferes with his tutoring. You see, I'd +had the geese sent me, and I wanted you to all come with me to +Mathiesen's place. I knew you were going to read the osteology of the +arm, so I went up into Soelling's room, opened it with his own keys and +took the arms from his skeleton. I did the same here while you were +downstairs in the reading room. Have you been stupid enough to take +them down off their frames, and take away their tickets? I had marked +them so carefully, that each man should get his own again." + +I dressed hastily and went out with Niels into the fresh, cool morning +air. A few minutes later we separated, and I turned toward the street +where Soelling lived. Without heeding the protest of his old landlady, +I entered the room where he still slept the sleep of the just. The +arm, still wrapped in newspaper, lay on his desk. I took it up, put +the mark piece in its place and hastened with all speed to the +churchyard. + +How different it looked in the early dawn! The fog had risen and +shining frost pearls hung in the bare twigs of the tall trees where +the sparrows were already twittering their morning song. There was no +one to be seen. The churchyard lay quiet and peaceful. I stepped over +the heaps of bones to where the heavy oaken coffin lay under a tree. +Cautiously I pushed the arm back into its interior, and hammered the +rusty nails into their places again, just as the first rays of the +pale November sun touched a gleam of light from the metal plate on the +cover.--Then the weight was lifted from my soul. + + + +OTTO LARSSEN + + +_THE MANUSCRIPT_ + + +Two gentlemen sat chatting together one evening. + +Their daily business was to occupy themselves with literature. At the +present moment they were engaged in drinking whisky,--an occupation +both agreeable and useful,--and in chatting about books, the theater, +women and many other things. Finally they came around to that +inexhaustible subject for conversation, the mysterious life of the +soul, the hidden things, the Unknown, that theme for which Shakespeare +has given us an oft-quoted and oft-abused device, which one of them, +Mr. X., now used to point his remarks. Raising his glass, he looked at +himself meditatively in a mirror opposite, and, in a good imitation of +the manner of his favourite actor, he quoted: + + "There are more things in heaven and earth than are + dreamt of in thy philosophy, Horatio." + +Mr. Y. arranged a fresh glass for himself, and answered: + +"I believe it. I believe also that it is given but to a few chosen +ones to see these things. It never fell to my lot, I know. Fortunately +for me, perhaps. For,--at least so it appears to me,--these chosen +ones appear on closer investigation to be individuals of an abnormal +condition of brain. As far as I personally am concerned, I know of +nothing more strange than the usual logical and natural sequence of +events on our globe. I confess things do sometimes happen outside of +this orderly sequence; but for the cold-blooded and thoughtful person +the Strange, the apparently Inexplicable, usually turns out to be a +sum of Chance, that Chance we will never be quite clever enough to +fully take into our calculations. + +"As an instance I would like to tell you the story of what happened +several years back to a friend of mine, a young French writer. He had +a good, sincere mind, but he had also a strong leaning toward +mysticism,--something which was just then in danger of becoming as +much of a fashion in France as it is here now. The event of which I am +about to tell you threw him into what was almost a delirium, which +came near to robbing him of his normal intelligence, and therefore +came near to robbing French readers of a few excellent books. + +"This was the way it happened: + +"It was about ten years back, and I was spending the spring and summer +in Paris. I had a room with the family of a _concierge_ on the left +bank, rue de Vaugirard, near the Luxembourg Gardens. + +"A few steps from my modest domicile lived my friend Lucien F. We had +become acquainted through a chain of circumstances which do not belong +to this story, but these circumstances had made firm friends of us, a +friendship which was a source of great pleasure and also of assistance +to me in my study of Paris conditions. This friendship also enabled me +to enjoy better and cheaper whisky than one can usually meet with in +the city by the Seine, a real good 'Jameson Highland.' + +"Lucien F. had already published several books which had aroused +attention through the oddity of their themes, and their gratifying +success had made it possible for him to establish himself in a +comfortably furnished bachelor apartment on the corner of the rue de +Vaugirard and the rue de Conde. + +"The apartment had a corridor and three rooms; a dining room, a +bedroom, and a charming study with an inclosed balcony, the three +windows of which,--a large one in the center and two smaller ones at +the side,--sent a flood of light in over the great writing table which +filled nearly the entire balcony. Inside the room, near the balcony, +stood a divan covered with a bearskin rug. Upon this divan I spent +many of my hours in Paris, occupied in the smoking of my friend's +excellent cigars, and the sampling of his superlatively good whisky. +At the same time I could lie staring up at the tops of the trees in +the Luxembourg Gardens, while Lucien worked at his desk. For, unlike +most writers, he could work best when he was not alone. + +"If I remained away several days, he would invariably ring my bell +early some morning, and drag me out of bed with the remark: 'The +whisky is ready. I can't write if you are not there.' + +"During the particular days of which I shall tell you, he was engaged +in the writing of a fantastic novelette, 'The Force of the Wind,' a +work which interested him greatly, and which he would interrupt +unwillingly at intervals to furnish copy for the well-known newspaper +that numbered him among the members of its staff. His books were +printed by the same house that did the printing for the paper. + +"Often, as I lay in my favorite position on the divan, the bell would +ring and we would be honored by a visit from the printer's boy +Adolphe, a little fellow in a blue blouse, the true type of Paris +gamin. Adolphe rejoiced in a broken nose, a pair of crafty eyes, and +had his fists always full of manuscripts which he treated with a +carelessness that would have driven a literary novice to despair. The +long rolls of yellow paper would hang out of his trousers pockets as +if ready to fall apart at his next movement. And the disrespectful +manner in which he crammed my friend Lucien's scarcely dried essay +into the breast of his blouse would have certainly called forth +remarks from a journalist of more self-conceit. + +"But his eyes were so full of sly cunning, and there was such an +atmosphere of Paris about the stocky little fourteen-year-old chap, +that we would often keep him longer with us, and treat him to a glass +of anisette to hear his opinion of the writers whose work he handled. +He was an amusing cross between a tricky little Paris gamin and a real +child, and he hit off the characteristics of the various writers with +as keen a touch of actuality as he could put into his stories of how +many centimes he had won that morning at 'craps' from his friend +Pierre. Pierre was another employee of the printing house, Adolphe's +comrade in his study of the mysteries of Paris streets, and now his +rival. They were both in love with the same girl, the fifteen-year-old +daughter of the keeper of 'La Prunelle' Cafe, and her favor was often +the prize of the morning's game. + +"Now and then this rivalry between the two young Parisians would drop +into a hand-to-hand fight. I myself was witness to such a skirmish one +day, in front of 'La Prunelle.' The rivals pulled each other's hair +mightily while the manuscripts flew about over the pavement, and +Virginie, in her short skirts, stood at the door of the cafe and +laughed until she seemed about to shake to pieces. + +"Pierre was the strongest, and Adolphe came off with a bloody nose. He +gathered up his manuscripts in grim silence and left the battlefield +and the still laughing Virginie with an expression of deep anger on +his wounded face. + +"The following day, when I teased him a little because of his defeat, +he smiled a sly smile and remarked: + +"'Yes, but I won a franc from him, the big stupid animal. And so it +was I, after all, who took Virginie out that evening. We went to the +Cafe "Neant," where I let them put me in the coffin and pretend to be +decaying, to amuse her. She thought it was lots of fun.' + +"One morning Lucien had come for me as usual, put me on the divan, and +seated himself at his writing table. He was just putting the last +words to his novel, and the table was entirely covered with the +scattered leaves, closely written. I could just see his neck as he sat +there, a thin-sinewed, expressive neck. He bent over his work, blind +and deaf for anything else. I lay there and gazed out over the tops of +the trees in the park up into the blue summer sky. The window on the +left side of the desk stood wide open, for it was a warm and sultry +day. I sipped my whisky slowly. The air was heavy, and thunder +threatened in the distance. After a little while the clouds gathered +together, heavy, low-hanging, copper-hued, real thunder clouds, and +the trees in the park rustled softly. The air was stifling, and lay +heavy as lead on my breast. + +"'Lucien!' + +"Lucien did not hear or see anything, his pen flew over the paper. + +"I fell back lazily on my divan. + +"Then suddenly, there was a mighty tumult. A strong gust of wind swept +through the street, bending the trees in the gardens quite out of my +horizon. With a crash the right-hand window in the balcony flew wide +open, and like a cyclone, the wind swept through, clearing the table +in an instant of all the loose sheets of paper that had lain scattered +about it. + +"'The devil! Why don't you shut the window!' I cried, springing up +from the sofa. + +"'Spare your energy, it's too late,' said Lucien with a gentle mockery +in his soft voice. 'Look there!'--he pointed out into the street, +where his sheets of paper went swirling about in the heavy air like +white doves. + +"A second later came the rain, a veritable cloud-burst. We shut the +windows and gave ourselves up to melancholy thoughts about the lost +manuscript, the recovery of which now seemed utterly hopeless. + +"'That's one thousand francs, at least, that the wind has robbed me +of,' sighed Lucien. 'Well, _elfin_, that doesn't matter so much. But +do you know anything more tiresome than to work over the same subject +a second time? I can't think of doing it. It would fairly make me sick +to try it.' + +"We were in a sad mood that morning. When we went out to breakfast at +about two o'clock, we looked about for some traces of the lost +manuscript. + +"There was nothing to be seen. It had vanished completely, whirled off +to all four corners of the earth probably, this manuscript from which +Lucien had expected so much. Truly it was 'The Force of the Wind.'" + + * * * * * + +"Now comes the strange part of the story. One morning, two weeks +later, Lucien stood in the door of my little room, pale as a ghost. He +had a bundle of printer's proofs in his hand, and held them out to me +without a word. + +"I looked at it and read: + +"'"The Force of the Wind," by Lucien F.' + +"It was a good bundle of proofs, the entire first proofs of Lucien's +novel, that novel the manuscript of which we had seen blown out of the +balcony window and whirled away by the winds. + +"'My dear man,' I exclaimed, as I handed him back the proofs. 'You +_have_ been industrious indeed, to write your entire novel over again +in so short a time--and to have proofs already----' + +"Lucien did not answer. He stood silent, staring at me with a weird +look in his otherwise so sensible eyes. After a moment he stammered: + +"'I did not write the novel over again. I have not touched a pen since +the day the manuscript blew out of the window.' + +"'Are you a sleep-walker, Lucien?' + +"'Why do you ask?' + +"'Why, that would be the only natural explanation. They say we can do +a great many things in sleep, of which we know nothing when we wake. +I've heard queer stories of that. Men have committed murders in their +sleep. It happens quite often that sleep-walkers write letters in a +handwriting they do not recognize when awake.' + +"'I have never been a sleep-walker,' answered Lucien. + +"'Oh, you never can tell,' I remarked. 'Would you rather explain it as +magic? Or as the work of fairies? Or do you believe in ghosts? Your +muse has fascinated you, you mystic!' And I laughed and trilled a line +from 'The Mascot,' which we had seen the evening before at the Lyric. + +"But my merriment did not seem to strike an answering note in Lucien. +He turned from me in silence, and with an offended expression took his +hat and his proofs, and--humorist and skeptic as he was ordinarily, he +parted from me with the words, uttered in a theatrical tone: + +"'There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamed of in thy +philosophy.' + +"He turned on his heel and left the room. + +"To be candid, I was unpleasantly affected by the little scene. I +could not for an instant doubt Lucien's honesty,--he was so pale, so +frightened almost--so touching in the alarm and excitement of his +soul. Of course the only explanation that I could see was that he had +written his novel in a sleep-walking state. + +"For certainly no printer could set up type from a manuscript that did +not exist,--to say nothing of printing it and sending out proofs. + +"Several days passed, but Lucien did not come near me. I went to his +place once or twice, but the door was locked. Had the devil carried +him off bodily? Or had this strange and inexplicable occurrence robbed +him of his sanity, and robbed me of his friendship and his excellent +whisky? + +"After three useless attempts to find him at home, and after writing +him a letter which he did not answer, I gave up Lucien without any +further attempt to understand his enigmatical behavior. A short time +after, I left for my home without having seen or heard anything more +of him. + +"Months passed. I remained at home, and one evening when, during the +course of a gay party, the conversation came around to the subject of +mysticism and occult occurrences, I dished up my story of the +enigmatical manuscript. The Unknown, the Occult, was the rage just +then, and my story was received with great applause and called forth +numerous quotations as to 'more things in heaven and earth.' I came to +think so much of it myself that I wrote it out and sent it to +Professor Flammarion, who was just then making a study of the Unknown, +which he preserved in his later book 'L'Inconnu.' + +"The occupying myself with the story brought my mind around again to +memories of Lucien. One day, I saw a notice in _Le Figaro_ to the +effect that his book, 'The Force of the Wind,' had appeared in a +second large edition, and had aroused much attention, particularly in +spiritualistic circles. I seemed to see him again before me, with his +long nervous neck, which was so expressive. The vision of this neck +rose up before me whenever I drank the same sort of whisky that I had +drunk so often with him, and the longing to hear something more of my +lost friend came over me. I sat down one evening when in a sentimental +mood, and wrote to him, asking him to tell me something of himself and +to send me his book. + +"A week later I received the little book and the following letter +which I have here in my pocket. It is somewhat crumpled, for I have +read it several times. But no matter. I will read it to you now, if +you will pardon my awkward translating of the French original. + +"Here it is: + +"DEAR FRIEND: + +"Many thanks for your letter. Here is the book. I have to thank you +also that you did not lay my behavior of your last days in Paris up +against me. It must have seemed strange to you. I will try to explain +it. + +"I have been nervous from childhood. The fact that most of my books +have treated of fantastic subjects,--somewhat in the manner of Edgar +Allan Poe--has made me more susceptible for all that world which lies +beyond and about the world of every-day life. I have sought +after,--and yet feared--the mystical; cool and lucid as I can be at +times, I have always had an inclination for the enigmatical, the +Unknown. + +"But the first thing that ever happened in my life that I could not +explain or understand was the affair of the manuscript. You remember +the day I stood in your room? I must have looked the picture of +misery. The affair had played more havoc with my nerves than you can +very well understand. Your mockery hurt me, and yet under all I felt +ashamed of my own thoughts concerning this foolish occurrence. I could +not explain the phenomenon, and I shivered at the things that it +suggested to me. In this condition, which lasted several weeks, I +could not bear to see you or anyone else, and I was impolite enough +even to leave your letter unanswered. + +"The book appeared and made a hit, since that sort of thing was the +center of interest just then. But almost a month passed before I could +arouse myself from that condition of fear and--I had almost said, +softening of the brain--which prevented my enjoyment of my success. + +"Then the explanation came. Thanks to this occurrence I know now that +I shall never again be in danger of being 'haunted.' + +"And I know now that Chance can bring about stranger happenings than +can any fancied visitations from the spirit world. Here you have the +story of this 'mystic' occurrence, which came near endangering my +sanity, and which turns out to be a chance combination of a gust of +wind, a sudden downpour of rain, and the strange elements in the +character of our little friend Adolphe the printer's boy. + +"You remember that funny little chap with the crafty eye, his talent +for gambling, and his admiration for the girl of 'La Prunelle'? A +queer little mixture this child who has himself alone to look to for +livelihood and care, the typical race of the Paris streets, the +modified gamin from 'Les Miserables.' + +"About a month after the appearance of my book I lay on the divan one +day,--your favorite place, you remember?--and lost myself in idle +reasonings on the same old subject that never left my mind day or +night, when the bell rang and Adolphe appeared, to call for the essay +on 'Le Boulevarde.' There was an unusually nervous gleam in his eyes +that day. I gave him an anisette and tried to find out what his +trouble was. I did find it out, and I found out a good deal more +besides. + +"Thanks to his good fortune as a gambler, Virginie came to look upon +him with favor. Pierre was quite out of the race and Adolphe's +affection was reciprocated as much as his heart could desire. But with +his good fortune in love came all the suffering, all the torture, the +suspicions that tear the hearts of us men when we set our hopes upon a +woman's truth. Young as he was he went through them all, and now he +was torturing himself with the thought that she did not really love +him and was only pretending, while she gave her heart to another. +Perhaps he was right--why not? + +"I talked to Adolphe as man to man, and managed to bring back a gleam +of his usual jollity and sly humor. He took another glass of anisette, +and said suddenly: + +"'M. Lucien--I did something----' + +"'Did what?' I asked. + +"'Something I should have told you long ago--it was wrong, and you've +always been so nice to me----' + +"You remember the day, two months ago, when we had such a sudden wind +and rain storm, a regular cloud-burst? I was down here in this +neighborhood fetching manuscripts from M. Labouchere and M. Laroy. I +was to have come up here for copy from you, too. But then--you'll +understand after all I've been telling you,--I came around past 'La +Prunelle' and Virginie stood in the doorway, and she'd promised to go +out with me that evening. So I ran up to speak to her. And then when I +went on again, I saw a sheet with your writing lying in the street. +You know I know all the gentlemen's writing, whose copy I fetch. Then +I was frightened. I thought to myself, 'The devil,' I thought, 'here +I've lost M. Lucien's manuscript.' I couldn't remember calling for it, +but I thought I must have done so before I got M. Laroy's. I can't +remember much except Virginie these days. I took up the sheet and saw +three others a little further on. And I saw a lot more shining just +behind the railing of the Luxembourg Garden. You know how hard it +rained. The water held the paper down, so the wind couldn't carry it +any further. I ran into the Garden and picked up all the sheets, +thirty-two of them. All of them, except the first four I found in the +street, had blown in behind the railing. And I can tell you I was +precious glad that I had them all together. I ran back to the office, +told them I had dropped the manuscript in the street, but asked them +not to say anything to you about it. But the sheets were all +there,--you always number them so clearly, and 'handsome August,' the +compositor, promised he wouldn't tell on me. I knew if the foreman +heard of it, he'd put me out, for he had a grudge against me. So +nobody knew anything about it. But I thought I ought to tell you, +'cause you've been so nice to me. Maybe you'll understand how one gets +queer at times, when a girl like Virginie tells you she likes you +better than Pierre, and yet you think she might deceive you for his +sake--that big, stupid animal--But now I'll be going. Much obliged for +your kindness, M. Lucien, and for the anisette--' And he left me. + +"There you have the explanation, the very simple and natural +explanation of the phenomenon that almost drove me crazy. + +"The entire 'supernatural' occurrence was caused by a careless boy's +love affairs, by a gust of southwest wind, by a sudden heavy rain, and +by the chance that I had used English ink, the kind that water cannot +blur. All these simple natural things made me act so foolishly toward +a good friend, the sort of friend I have always known you to be. Let +me hear from you, and tell me what you people up North think of my +book. I give you my word that the 'Unknown Powers' shall never again +make me foolish enough to risk losing your friendship! + +"Yours + +"LUCIEN." + +"So this is my story. Yes, 'there are more things in heaven and +earth--' But the workings of Chance are the strangest of all. And this +whisky is really very good. Here's to you." + + + +BERNHARD SEVERIN INGEMANN + + +_THE SEALED ROOM_ + + +For many years there stood in a side street in Kiel an unpretentious +old frame house which had a forbidding, almost sinister appearance, +with its old-fashioned balcony and its overhanging upper stories. For +the last twenty years the house had been occupied by a greatly +respected widow, Madame Wolff, to whom the dwelling had come by +inheritance. She lived there quietly with her one daughter, in +somewhat straitened circumstances. + +What gave the house a mysterious notoriety, augmenting the sinister +quality in its appearance, was the fact that one of its rooms, a +corner room on the main floor, had not been opened for generations. +The door was firmly fastened and sealed with plaster, as well as the +window looking out upon the street. Above the door was an old +inscription, dated 1603, which threatened sudden death and eternal +damnation to any human being who dared to open the door or efface the +inscription. Neither door nor window had been opened in the two +hundred years that had passed since the inscription was put up. But +for a generation back or more, the partition wall and the sealed door +had been covered with wall paper, and the inscription had been almost +forgotten. + +The room adjoining the sealed chamber was a large hall, utilized only +for rare important events. Such an occasion arose with the wedding of +the only daughter of the house. For that evening the great hall, as it +was called, was brilliantly decorated and illuminated for a ball. The +building had deep cellars and the old floors were elastic. Madame +Wolff had in vain endeavored to avoid using the great hall at all, for +the foolish old legend of the sealed chamber aroused a certain +superstitious dread in her heart, and she rarely if ever entered the +hall herself. But merry Miss Elizabeth, her pretty young daughter, was +passionately fond of dancing, and her mother had promised that she +should have a ball on her wedding day. Her betrothed, Secretary +Winther, was also a good dancer, and the two young people combated the +mother's prejudice against the hall and laughed at her fear of the +sealed room. They thought it would be wiser to appear to ignore the +stupid legend altogether, and thus to force the world to forget it. In +spite of secret misgivings Madame Wolff yielded to their arguments. +And for the first time in many years the merry strains of dance music +were heard in the great hall that lay next the mysterious sealed +chamber. + +The bridal couple, as well as the wedding guests, were in the gayest +mood, and the ball was an undoubted success. The dancing was +interrupted for an hour while supper was served in an adjoining room. +After the repast the guests returned to the hall, and it was several +hours more before the last dance was called. The season was early +autumn and the weather still balmy. The windows had been opened to +freshen the air. But the walls retained their dampness and suddenly +the dancers noticed that the old wall paper which covered the +partition wall between the hall and the sealed chamber had been +loosened through the jarring of the building, and had fallen away from +the sealed door with its mysterious inscription. + +The story of the sealed chamber had been almost forgotten by most of +those present, forgotten with many other old legends heard in +childhood. The inscription thus suddenly revealed naturally aroused +great interest, and there was a general curiosity to know what the +mysterious closed room might hide. Conjectures flew from mouth to +mouth. Some insisted that the closed door must hide the traces of a +hideous murder, or some other equally terrible crime. Others suggested +that perhaps the room had been used as a hiding place for garments and +other articles belonging to some person who had died of a pestilence, +and that the room had been sealed for fear of spreading the disease. +Still others thought that in the sealed chamber there might be found a +secret entrance from the cellars, which had made the room available as +a hiding place for robbers or smugglers. The guests had quite +forgotten their dancing in the interest awakened by the sight of the +mysterious door. + +"For mercy's sake, don't let's go too near it!" exclaimed some of the +young ladies. But the majority thought it would be great fun to see +what was hidden there. Most of the men said that they considered it +foolish not to have opened the door long ago, and examined the room. +The young bridegroom did not join in this opinion, however. He upheld +the decision of his mother-in-law not to allow any attempt to effect +an entrance into the room. He knew that there was a clause in the +title deeds to the house which made the express stipulation that no +owner should ever permit the corner room to be opened. There was +discussion among the guests as to whether such a clause in a title +deed could be binding for several hundred years, and many doubted its +validity at any time. But most of them understood why Madame Wolff did +not wish any investigation, even should any of those present have +sufficient courage to dare the curse and break open the door. + +"Nonsense! What great courage is necessary for that?" exclaimed +Lieutenant Flemming Wolff, a cousin of the bride of the evening. This +gentleman had a reputation that was not of the best. He was known to +live mostly on debt and pawn tickets, and was of a most quarrelsome +disposition. As a duelist he was feared because of his specialty. This +was the ability, and the inclination, through a trick in the use of +the foils, to disfigure his opponent's face badly, without at all +endangering his life. In this manner he had already sadly mutilated +several brave officers and students, who had had the bad luck to stand +up against him. He himself was anything but pleasant to look upon, his +natural plainness having been rendering repellent by a life of low +debauchery. He cherished a secret grudge against the bridegroom and +bitter feelings toward the bride, because the latter had so plainly +shown her aversion for him when he had ventured to pay suit to her. + +The family had not desired any open break with this disagreeable +relative, and had therefore sent him an invitation to the wedding. +They had taken it for granted that, under the circumstances, he would +prefer to stay away. But he had appeared at the ball, and, perhaps to +conceal his resentment, he had been the most indefatigable dancer of +the evening. At supper he had partaken freely of the strongest wines, +and was plainly showing the effect of them by this time. His eyes +rolled wildly, and those who knew him took care not to contradict him, +or to have anything to say to him at all. + +With a boastful laugh he repeated his assertion that it didn't take +much courage to open a sealed door, especially when there might be a +fortune concealed behind it. In his opinion it was cowardly to let +oneself be frightened by a century-old legend. _He_ wouldn't let that +bother him if _he_ had influence enough in the family to win the +daughter and induce the mother to give a ball in the haunted hall. +With this last hit he hoped to arouse the young husband's ire. But the +latter merely shrugged his shoulders and turned away with a smile of +contempt. + +Lieutenant Wolff fired up at this, and demanded to know whether the +other intended to call his, the lieutenant's, courage into question by +his behavior. + +"Not in the slightest, when it is a matter of obtaining a loan, or of +mutilating an adversary with a trick at fencing," answered the +bridegroom angrily, taking care, however, that neither the bride nor +any of the other ladies should hear his words. Then he continued in a +whisper: "But I don't believe you'd have the courage to remain here +alone and in darkness, before this closed door, for a single hour. If +you wish to challenge me for this doubt, I am at your disposal as soon +as you have proven me in the wrong. But I choose the weapons." + +"They must be chosen by lot, sir cousin," replied the lieutenant, his +cheek pale and his jaws set. "I will expect you to breakfast to-morrow +morning at eight o'clock." + +The bridegroom nodded, and took the other's cold dry hand for an +instant. The men who had overheard the short conversation looked upon +it as a meaningless incident, the memory of which would disappear from +the lieutenant's brain with the vanishing wine fumes. + +The ball was now over. The bride left the hall with her husband and +several of the guests who were to accompany the young couple to their +new home. The lights went out in the old house. The door of the +dancing hall had been locked from the outside. Lieutenant Flemming +Wolff remained alone in the room, having hidden himself in a dark +corner where he had not been seen by the servants, who had +extinguished the lights and locked the door. The night watchman had +just called out two o'clock when the solitary guest found himself, +still giddy from the heavy wine, alone in the great dark hall in front +of the mysterious door. + +The windows were at only a slight elevation from the street, and a +spring would take him to safety should his desire to remain there, or +to solve the mystery of the sealed room, vanish. But next morning all +the windows in the great hall were found closed, just as the servants +had left them the night before. The night watchman reported that he +had heard a hollow-sounding crash in that unoccupied part of the house +during the night. But that was nothing unusual, as there was a general +belief in the neighborhood that the house was haunted. + +For hollow noises were often heard there, and sounds as of money +falling on the floor, and rattling and clinking as of a factory +machine. Enlightened people, it is true, explained these sounds as +echoes of the stamping and other natural noises from a large stable +just behind the old house. But in spite of these explanations and +their eminent feasibility, the dread of the unoccupied portion of the +house was so great that not even the most reckless man servant could +be persuaded to enter it alone after nightfall. + +Next morning at eight o'clock Winther appeared at his mother-in-law's +door, saying that he had forgotten something of importance in the +great hall the night before. Madame Wolff had not yet arisen, but the +maid who let in the early visitor noticed with surprise that he had a +large pistol sticking out of one of his pockets. + +Winther had been to his cousin's apartment and found it locked. He now +entered the great hall, and at first glance thought it empty. To his +alarm and astonishment, however, he saw that the sealed door had been +broken open. He approached it with anxiety, and found his wife's +cousin, the doughty duelist, lying pale and lifeless on the threshold. +Beside him lay a large stone which had struck his head in falling and +must have killed him at once. Over the door was a hole in the wall, +just the size of the stone. The latter had evidently rested on the +upper edge of the door, and must certainly have fallen on its opening. +The unfortunate man lay half in the mysterious chamber and half in the +hall, just as he must have fallen when the stone struck him. + +The formal investigation of the closed room was made in the presence +of the police authorities. It contained nothing but a small safe which +was built into the wall. When the safe had been opened by force, an +inner chamber, which had to be broken open by itself, was found to +contain a number of rolls of gold pieces, many jewels and numerous +notes and I.O.U.'s. The treasure was covered by an old document. From +this latter it was learned that the owner of the house two hundred +years ago had been a silk weaver by the name of Flemming Ambrosius +Wolff. He was said to have lent money on security for many years, but +had died apparently a poor man, because he had so carefully hidden his +riches that little of it was found after his death. + +With a niggardliness that bordered on madness, he had believed that he +could hide his treasure forever by shutting it up in the sealed room. +The curse over the door was to frighten away any venturesome mortal, +and further security was given by the clause in the title deed. + +The universally disliked Lieutenant Flamming Wolff must have had many +characteristics in common with this disagreeable old ancestor, to +whose treasure he would have fallen heir had he not lost his life in +the discovering of it. The old miser had not hidden his wealth for all +eternity, as he had hoped, but had only brought about the inheriting +of it by Madame Wolff, the owner of the house, and the next of kin. +The first use to which this lady put the money was to tear down the +uncanny old building and to erect in its stead a beautiful new home +for her daughter and son-in-law. + + + +STEEN STEENSEN BLICHER + + +_THE RECTOR OF VEILBYE_ + + +These extracts from the diary of Erik Sorensen, District Judge, +followed by two written statements by the rector of Aalsoe, give a +complete picture of the terrible events that took place in the parish +of Veilbye during Judge Sorensen's first year of office. Should anyone +be inclined to doubt the authenticity of these documents let him at +least have no doubt about the story, which is, alas! only too sadly +true. The memory of these events is still fresh in the district, and +the events themselves have been the direct cause of a change in the +method of criminal trials. A suspected murderer is now tried through +all the courts before his conviction can be determined. Readers versed +in the history of law will doubtless know by this during what epoch +the story is laid. + + + +I + +[_From the Diary of District Judge Erik Soerensen_.] + + +Now am I, unworthy one, by the grace of God made judge over this +district. May the Great Judge above give me wisdom and uprightness +that I may fulfill my difficult task in all humility! From the Lord +alone cometh judgment. + +It is not good that man should live alone. Now that I am able to +support a wife I will look about me for a help-meet. I hear much good +said about the daughter of the Rector of Veilbye. Since her mother's +death she has been a wise and economical keeper of her father's house. +And as she and her brother the student are the only children, she will +inherit a tidy sum when the old man dies. + +Morten Bruus of Ingvorstrup was here to-day and wanted to make me a +present of a fat calf. But I answered him in the words of Moses, +"Cursed be he who taketh gifts." He is of a very quarrelsome nature, a +sharp bargainer, and a boastful talker. I do not want to have any +dealings with him, except through my office as judge. + +I have prayed to God for wisdom and I have consulted with my own +heart, and I believe that Mistress Mette Quist is the only woman with +whom I could live and die. But I will watch her for a time in secret. +Beauty is deceptive and charm is a dangerous thing. But I must say +that she is the most beautiful woman I have yet seen. + +I think that Morten Bruus a very disagreeable person--I scarcely know +why myself. But whenever I see him something comes over me, something +that is like the memory of an evil dream. And yet it is so vague and +so faint, that I could not say whether I had really ever seen the man +in my dreams or not. It may be a sort of presentiment of evil; who +knows? + +He was here again and offered me a pair of horses--beautiful +animals--at a ridiculously low price. It looked queer to me. I know +that he paid seventy thalers for them, and he wanted to let me have +them for the same price. They are at the least worth one hundred +thalers, if not more. Was it intended for a bribe? He may have another +lawsuit pending. I do not want his horses. + +I paid a visit to the Rector of Veilbye to-day. He is a fine, +God-fearing man, but somewhat quick-tempered and dictatorial. And he +is close with his money, too, as I could see. Just as I arrived a +peasant was with him trying to be let off the payment of part of his +tithe. The man is surely a rogue, for the sum is not large. But the +rector talked to him as I wouldn't have talked to a dog, and the more +he talked the more violent he became. + +Well, we all have our faults. The rector meant well in spite of his +violence, for later on he told his daughter to give the man a sandwich +and a good glass of beer. She is certainly a charming and sensible +girl. She greeted me in a modest and friendly manner, and my heart +beat so that I could scarcely say a word in reply. My head farm hand +served in the rectory three years. I will question him,--one often +hears a straight and true statement from servants. + +A surprise! My farm hand Rasmus tells me that Morten Bruus came +a-wooing to the rectory at Veilbye some years back, but was sent away +with a refusal. The rector seemed to be pleased with him, for the man +is rich. But his daughter would not hear to it at all. Pastor Soeren +may have tried hard to persuade her to consent at first. But when he +saw how much she disliked the man he let her do as she would. It was +not pride on her part, Rasmus said, for she is as simple and modest as +she is good and beautiful. And she knows that her own father is +peasant-born as well as Bruus. + +Now I know what the Ingvorstrup horses were intended for. They were to +blind the judge and to lead him aside from the narrow path of +righteousness. The rich Morten Bruus covets poor Ole Andersen's peat +moor and pasture land. It would have been a good bargain for Morten +even at seventy thalers. But no indeed, my good fellow, you don't know +Erik Soerensen! + +Rector Soeren Quist of Veilbye came to see me this morning. He has a +new coachman, Niels Bruus, brother to the owner of Ingvorstrup. Niels +is lazy and impertinent. The rector wanted him arrested, but he had no +witnesses to back up his complaint. I advised him to get rid of the +man somehow, or else to get along with him the best he could until the +latter's time was up. The rector was somewhat hasty at first, but +later on he listened calmly and thanked me for my good advice. He is +inclined to be violent at times, but can always be brought to listen +to reason. We parted good friends. + +I spent a charming day in Veilbye yesterday. The rector was not at +home, but Mistress Mette received me with great friendliness. She sat +by the door spinning when I arrived, and it seemed to me that she +blushed. It was hardly polite for me to wait so long before speaking. +When I sit in judgement I never lack for words, but in the presence of +this innocent maiden I am as stupid as the veriest simpleton of a +chicken thief. But I finally found my voice and the time passed +quickly until the rector's return. Then Mistress Mette left us and did +not return until she brought in our supper. + +Just as she stepped through the doorway the rector was saying to me, +"Isn't it about time that you should think of entering into the holy +estate of matrimony?" (We had just been speaking of a recent very fine +wedding in the neighborhood.) Mistress Mette heard the words and +flushed a deep red. Her father laughed and said to her, "I can see, my +dear daughter, that you have been standing before the fire." + +I shall take the good man's advice and will very soon try my fate with +her. For I think I may take the rector's words to be a secret hint +that he would not object to me as a son-in-law. And the daughter? Was +her blush a favorable sign? + +Poor Ole Anderson keeps his peat moor and his pasture land, but rich +Morten Bruus is angry at me because of it. When he heard the decision +he closed his eyes and set his lips tight, and his face was as pale as +a whitewashed wall. But he controlled himself and as he went out he +called back to his adversary, "Wish you joy of the bargain Ole +Anderson. The peat bog won't beggar me, and the cattle at Ingvorstrup +have all the hay they can eat." I could hear his loud laughter outside +and the cracking of his whip. It is not easy to have to sit in +judgment. Every decision makes but one enemy the more. + +Yesterday was the happiest day of my life. We celebrated our betrothal +in the Rectory of Veilbye. My future father-in-law spoke to the text, +"I gave my handmaid into thy bosom" (Genesis xvi, 5). His words +touched my heart. I had not believed that this serious and sometimes +brusque man could talk so sweetly. When the solemnity was over, I +received the first kiss from my sweet betrothed, and the assurance of +her great love for me. + +At supper and later on we were very merry. Many of the dead mother's +kin were present. The rector's family were too far away. After supper +we danced until day-break and there was no expense spared in the food +and wine. My future father-in-law was the strongest man present, and +could easily drink all the others under the table. The wedding is to +take place in six weeks. God grant us rich blessings. + +It is not good that my future father-in-law should have this Niels +Bruus in his service. He is a defiant fellow, a worthy brother of him +of Ingvorstrup. If it were I, he should have his wages and be turned +off, the sooner the better. But the good rector is stubborn and +insists that Niels shall serve out his time. The other day he gave the +fellow a box on the ear, at which Niels cried out that he would make +him pay for it. The rector told me of this himself, for no one else +had been present. I talked to Niels, but he would scarcely answer me. +I fear he has a stubborn and evil nature. My sweet betrothed also +entreats her father to send the fellow away, but the rector will not +listen to reason. I do not know what the old man will do when his +daughter leaves his home for mine. She saves him much worry and knows +how to make all things smooth and easy. She will be a sweet wife for +me. + +As I thought, it turned out badly. But there is one good thing about +it, Niels has now run off of himself. The rector is greatly angered, +but I rejoice in secret that he is rid of that dangerous man. Bruus +will probably seek retaliation, but we have law and justice in the +land to order such matters. + +This was the way of it: The rector had ordered Niels to dig up a bit +of soil in the garden. After a time when he went out himself to look +at the work, he found Niels leaning on his spade eating nuts. He had +not even begun to dig. The rector scolded him, but the fellow answered +that he had not taken service as a gardener. He received a good box on +the ear for that. At this he threw away his spade and swore valiantly +at his master. The old rector lost his temper entirely, seized the +spade and struck at the man several times. He should not have done +this, for a spade is a dangerous weapon, especially in the hands of a +man as strong as is the pastor in spite of his years. Niels fell to +the ground as if dead. But when the pastor bent over him in alarm, he +sprang up suddenly, jumped the hedge and ran away to the woods. + +This is the story of the unfortunate affair as my father-in-law tells +it to me. My beloved Mette is much worried about it. She fears the man +may do harm to the cattle, or set fire to the house, or in some such +way take his revenge. But I tell her there is little fear of that. + +Three weeks more and my beloved leaves her father's house for mine. +She has been here and has gone over the house and the farm. She is +much pleased with everything and praises our orderliness. She is an +angel, and all who know her say that I am indeed a fortunate man. To +God be the praise! + +Strange, where that fellow Niels went to! Could he have left the +country altogether? It is an unpleasant affair in any case, and there +are murmurings and secret gossip among the peasants. The talk has +doubtless started in Ingvorstrup. It would not be well to have the +rector hear it. He had better have taken my advice, but it is not my +province to school a servant of God, and a man so much older than I. +The idle gossip may blow over ere long. I will go to Veilbye to-morrow +and find out if he has heard anything. + +The bracelet the goldsmith has made for me is very beautiful. I am +sure it will please my sweet Mette. + +My honored father-in-law is much distressed and down-hearted. +Malicious tongues have repeated to him the stupid gossip that is going +about in the district. Morten Bruus is reported to have said that "he +would force the rector to bring back his brother, if he had to dig him +out of the earth." The fellow may be in hiding somewhere, possibly at +Ingvorstrup. He has certainly disappeared completely, and no one seems +to know where he is. My poor betrothed is much grieved and worried. +She is alarmed by bad dreams and by presentiments of evil to come. + +God have mercy on us all! I am so overcome by shock and horror that I +can scarcely hold the pen. It has all come in one terrible moment, +like a clap of thunder. I take no account of time, night and morning +are the same to me and the day is but a sudden flash of lightning +destroying the proud castle of my hopes and desires. A venerable man +of God--the father of my betrothed--is in prison! And as a suspected +murderer! There is still hope that he may be innocent. But this hope +is but as a straw to a drowning man. A terrible suspicion rests upon +him----And I, unhappy man that I am, must be his judge. And his +daughter is my betrothed bride! May the Saviour have pity on us! + +It was yesterday that this horrible thing came. About half an hour +before sunrise Morten Bruus came to my house and had with him the +cotter Jens Larsen of Veilbye, and the widow and daughter of the +shepherd of that parish. Morten Bruus said to me that he had the +Rector of Veilbye under suspicion of having killed his brother Niels. +I answered that I had heard some such talk but had regarded it as idle +and malicious gossip, for the rector himself had assured me that the +fellow had run away. "If that was so," said Morten, "if Niels had +really intended to run away, he would surely at first come to me to +tell me of it. But it is not so, as these good people can prove to +you, and I demand that you shall hear them as an officer of the law." + +"Think well of what you are doing," I said. "Think it over well, +Morten Bruus, and you, my good people. You are bringing a terrible +accusation against a respected and unspotted priest and man of God. If +you can prove nothing, as I strongly suspect, your accusations may +cost you dear." + +"Priest or no priest," cried Bruus, "it is written, 'thou shalt not +kill!' And also is it written, that the authorities bear the sword of +justice for all men. We have law and order in the land, and the +murderer shall not escape his punishment, even if he have the district +judge for a son-in-law." + +I pretended not to notice his thrust and began, "It shall be as you +say. Kirsten Mads' daughter, what is it that you know of this matter +in which Morten Bruus accuses your rector? Tell the truth, and the +truth only, as you would tell it before the judgment seat of the +Almighty. The law will demand from you that you shall later repeat +your testimony under oath." + +The woman told the following story: The day on which Niels Bruus was +said to have run away from the rectory, she and her daughter were +passing along the road near the rectory garden a little after the noon +hour. She heard some one calling and saw that it was Niels Bruus +looking out through the garden hedge. He asked the daughter if she did +not want some nuts and told the women that the rector had ordered him +to dig in the garden, but that he did not take the command very +seriously and would much rather eat nuts. At that moment they heard a +door open in the house and Niels said, "Now I'm in for a scolding." He +dropped back behind the hedge and the women heard a quarrel in the +garden. They could hear the words distinctly but they could see +nothing, as the hedge was too high. They heard the rector cry, "I'll +punish you, you dog. I'll strike you dead at my feet!" Then they heard +several sounding slaps, and they heard Niels curse back at the rector +and call him evil names. The rector did not answer this, but the women +heard two dull blows and saw the head of a spade and part of the +handle rise and fall twice over the hedge. Then it was very quiet in +the garden, and the widow and her daughter were frightened and hurried +on to their cattle in the field. The daughter gave the same testimony, +word for word. I asked them if they had not seen Niels Bruus coming +out of the garden. But they said they had not, although they had +turned back several times to look. + +This accorded perfectly with what the rector had told me. It was not +strange that the women had not seen the man run out of the garden, for +he had gone toward the wood which is on the opposite side of the +garden from the highroad. I told Morten Bruus that this testimony was +no proof of the supposed murder, especially as the rector himself had +narrated the entire occurrence to me exactly as the women had +described it. But he smiled bitterly and asked me to examine the third +witness, which I proceeded to do. + +Jens Larsen testified that he was returning late one evening from +Tolstrup (as he remembered, it was not the evening of Niels Bruus's +disappearance, but the evening of the following day), and was passing +the rectory garden on the easterly side by the usual footpath. From +the garden he heard a noise as of some one digging in the earth. He +was frightened at first for it was very late, but the moon shone +brightly and he thought he would see who it was that was at work in +the garden at that hour. He put off his wooden shoes and pushed aside +the twigs of the hedge until he had made a peep hole. In the garden he +saw the rector in his usual house coat, a white woolen nightcap on his +head. He was busily smoothing down the earth with the flat of his +spade. There was nothing else to be seen. Just then the rector had +started and partly turned toward the hedge, and the witness, fearing +he might be discovered, slipped down and ran home hastily. + +Although I was rather surprised that the rector should be working in +his garden at so late an hour, I still saw nothing in this statement +that could arouse suspicion of murder. I gave the complainant a solemn +warning and advised him not only to let fall his accusation, but to +put an end to the talk in the parish. He replied, "Not until I see +what it is that the rector buried in his garden." + +"That will be too late," I said. "You are playing a dangerous game. +Dangerous to your own honor and welfare." + +"I owe it to my brother," he replied, "and I demand that the +authorities shall not refuse me assistance." + +My office compelled me to accede to his demands. Accompanied by the +accuser and his witnesses I took my way to Veilbye. My heart was very +heavy, not so much because of any fear that we might find the missing +man buried in the garden, but because of the surprise and distress I +must cause the rector and my beloved. As we went on our way I thought +over how severely the law would allow me to punish the calumniators. +But alas, Merciful Heavens! What a terrible discovery was in store for +me! + +I had wished to have a moment alone with the rector to prepare him for +what was coming. But as I drove through the gate Morten Bruus spurred +his horse past me and galloped up to the very door of the house just +as the rector opened it. Bruus cried out in his very face, "People say +that you have killed my brother and buried him in your garden. I am +come with the district judge to seek for him." + +The poor rector was so shocked and astounded that he could not find a +word to answer. I sprang from my wagon and addressed him: "You have +now heard the accusation. I am forced by my office to fulfill this +man's demands. But your own honor demands that the truth shall be +known and the mouth of slander silenced." + +"It is hard enough," began the rector finally, "for a man in my +position to have to clear himself from such a suspicion. But come with +me. My garden and my entire house are open to you." + +We went through the house to the garden. On the way we met my +betrothed, who was startled at seeing Bruus. I managed to whisper +hastily to her, "Do not be alarmed, dear heart. Your enemies are going +to their own destruction." Morten Bruus led the way to the eastern +side of the garden near the hedge. We others followed with the +rector's farm hands, whom he himself had ordered to join us with +spades. + +The accuser stood and looked about him until we approached. Then he +pointed to one spot. "This looks as if the earth had been disturbed +lately. Let us begin here." + +"Go to work at once," commanded the rector angrily. + +The men set to work, but they were not eager enough to suit Bruus, who +seized a spade himself to fire them on. A few strokes only sufficed to +show that the firm earth of this particular spot had not been touched +for many years. We all rejoiced--except Bruus--and the rector was very +happy. He triumphed openly over his accuser, and laughed at him, +"Can't you find anything, you libeler?" + +Bruus did not answer. He pondered for a few moments, then called out, +"Jens Larsen, where was it you saw the rector digging?" + +Jens Larsen had been standing to one side with his hands folded, +watching the work. At Bruus's words he aroused himself as if from a +dream, looked around him and pointed to a corner of the garden several +yards from where we stood. "I think it was over there." + +"What's that, Jens!" cried the rector angrily. "When did I dig here?" + +Paying no heed to his, Morten Bruus called the men to the corner in +question. The earth here was covered by some withered cabbage stalks, +broken twigs, and other brush which he pushed aside hurriedly. The +work began anew. + +I stood by the rector talking calmly with him about the punishment we +could mete out to the dastardly accuser, when one of the men suddenly +cried out with an oath. We looked toward them; there lay a hat half +buried in the loose earth. "We have found him," cried Bruus. "That is +Niels's hat; I would know it anywhere." + +My blood seemed turned to ice. All my hopes dashed to the ground. +"Dig! Dig!" cried the bloodthirsty accuser, working himself with all +his might. I looked at the rector. He was ghastly pale, staring with +wide-open eyes at the horrible spot. + +Another shot! A hand was stretched up through the earth as if to greet +the workers. "See there!" screamed Bruus. "He is holding out his hand +to me. Wait a little, Brother Niels! You will soon be avenged!" + +The entire corpse was soon uncovered. It was the missing man. His face +was not recognizable, as decomposition had begun, and the nose was +broken and laid flat by a blow. But all the garments, even to the +shirt with his name woven into it, were known to those who stood +there. In one ear was a leaden ring, which, as we all knew, Niels +Bruus had worn for many years. + +"Now, priest," cried Morten Bruus, "come and lay your hand on this +dead man if you dare to!" + +"Almighty God!" sighed the rector, looking up to heaven, "Thou art my +witness that I am innocent. I struck him, that I confess, and I am +bitterly sorry for it. But he ran away. God Almighty alone knows who +buried him here." + +"Jens Larsen knows also," cried Bruus, "and I may find more witnesses. +Judge! You will come with me to examine his servants. But first of all +I demand that you shall arrest this wolf in sheep's clothing." + +Merciful God, how could I doubt any longer? The truth was clear to all +of us. But I was ready to sink into the earth in my shock and horror. +I was about to say to the rector that he must prepare to follow me, +when he himself spoke to me, pale and trembling like an aspen leaf. +"Appearances are against me," he said, "but this is the work of the +devil and his angels. There is One above who will bring my innocence +to light. Come, judge, I will await my fate in fetters. Comfort my +daughter. Remember that she is your betrothed bride." + +He had scarcely uttered the words when I heard a scream and a fall +behind us. It was my beloved who lay unconscious on the ground. I +thought at first that she was dead, and God knows I wished that I +could lie there dead beside her. I raised her in my arms, but her +father took her from me and carried her into the house. I was called +to examine the wound on the dead man's head. The cut was not deep, but +it had evidently fractured the skull, and had plainly been made by a +blow from a spade or some similar blunt instrument. + +Then we all entered the house. My beloved had revived again. She fell +on my neck and implored me, in the name of God, to help her father in +his terrible need. She begged me by the memory of our mutual love to +let her follow him to prison, to which I consented. I myself +accompanied him to Grenaa, but with a mournful heart. None of us spoke +a word on the sad journey. I parted from them in deep distress. The +corpse was laid in a coffin and will be buried decently to-morrow in +Veilbye churchyard. + +To-morrow I must give a formal hearing to the witnesses. God be +merciful to me, unfortunate man! + +Would that I had never obtained this position for which I--fool that I +am--strove so hard. + +As the venerable man of God was brought before me, fettered hand and +foot, I felt as Pilate must have felt as they brought Christ before +him. It was to me as if my beloved--God grant her comfort, she lies +ill in Grenaa--had whispered to me, "Do nothing against that good +man!" + +Oh, if he only were innocent, but I see no hope! + +The three first witnesses repeated their testimony under oath, word +for word. Then came statements by the rector's two farm hands and the +dairy maid. The men had been in the kitchen on the fatal day, and as +the windows were open they had heard the quarrel between the rector +and Niels. As the widow had stated, these men had also heard the +rector say, "I will strike you dead at my feet!" They further +testified that the rector was very quick-tempered, and that when +angered he did not hesitate to strike out with whatever came into his +hand. He had struck a former hand once with a heavy maul. + +The girl testified that on the night Jens Larsen claimed to have seen +the rector in the garden, she had lain awake and heard the creaking of +the garden door. When she looked out of the window she had seen the +rector in his dressing gown and nightcap go into the garden. She could +not see what he was doing there. But she heard the door creak again +about an hour later. + +When the witnesses had been heard, I asked the unfortunate man whether +he would make a confession, or else, if he had anything to say in his +own defense. He crossed his hands over his breast and said, "So help +me God, I will tell the truth. I have nothing more to say than what I +have said already. I struck the dead man with my spade. He fell down, +but jumped up in a moment and ran away from the garden out into the +woods. What may have happened to him there, or how he came to be +buried in my garden, this I do not know. When Jens Larsen and my +servant testify that they saw me at night in the garden, either they +are lying, or Satan has blinded them. I can see this--unhappy man that +I am--that I have no one to turn to for help here on earth. Will He +who is in heaven be silent also, then must I bow to His inscrutable +will." He bowed his head with a deep sigh. + +Some of those present began to weep, and a murmur arose that he might +possibly be innocent. But this was only the effect of the momentary +sympathy called out by his attitude. My own heart indeed spoke for +him. But the judge's heart may not dare to dictate to his brain or to +his conscience. My conviction forced me to declare that the rector had +killed Niels Bruus, but certainly without any premeditation or +intention to do so. It is true that Niels Bruus had often been heard +to declare that he would "get even with the rector when the latter +least expected it." But it is not known that he had fulfilled his +threat in any way. Every man clings to life and honor as long as he +can. Therefore the rector persists in his denial. My poor, dear Mette! +She is lost to me for this life at least, just as I had learned to +love her so dearly. + +I have had a hard fight to fight to-day. As I sat alone, pondering +over this terrible affair in which it is my sad lot to have to give +judgment, the door opened and the rector's daughter--I may no longer +call her my betrothed--rushed in and threw herself at my feet. I +raised her up, clasped her in my arms and we wept together in silence. +I was first to control myself. "I know what you would say, dear heart. +You want me to save your father. Alas, God help us poor mortals, I +cannot do it! Tell me, dearest one, tell me truly, do you yourself +believe your father to be innocent?" + +She crossed her hands on her heart and sobbed, "I do not know!" Then +she burst into tears again. "But he did not bury him in the garden," +she continued after a few moments. "The man may have died in the wood +from the blow. That may have happened----" + +"But, dearest heart," I said, "Jen Larsen and the girl saw your father +in the garden that night." + +She shook her head slowly and answered, "The evil one blinded their +eyes." She wept bitterly again. + +"Tell me, beloved," she began again, after a while, "tell me frankly +this much. If God sends us no further enlightenment in this +unfortunate affair, what sentence must you give?" + +She gazed anxiously at me, her lips trembling. + +"If I did not believe," I began slowly, "that anyone else in my place +would be more severe than I, then I would gladly give up my position +at once and refuse to speak the verdict. But I dare not conceal from +you that the mildest sentence that God, our king, and our laws demand +is, a life for a life." + +She sank to her knees, then sprang up again, fell back several steps +as if afraid of me, and cried out: "Would you murder my father? Would +you murder your betrothed bride? See here! See this!" She came nearer +and held up her hand with my ring on it before my eyes. "Do you see +this betrothal ring? What was it my father said when you put this ring +upon my finger? 'I have given my maid unto thy bosom!' But you, you +thrust the steel deep into my bosom!" + +Alas, every one of her words cut deep into my own heart. "Dearest +love," I cried, "do not speak so. You thrust burning irons into my +heart. What would you have me do? Acquit him, when the laws of God and +man condemn?" + +She was silent, sobbing desperately. + +"One thing I can do," I continued. "If it be wrong may God forgive me. +If the trial goes on to an end his life is forfeited, there is no hope +except in flight. If you can arrange an escape I will close my eyes. I +will not see or hear anything. As soon as your father was imprisoned, +I wrote to your brother in Copenhagen. He can arrive any moment now. +Talk to him, make friends with the jailer. If you lack money, all I +have is yours." + +When I had finished her face flushed with joy, and she threw her arms +about my neck. "God bless you for these words. Were my brother but +here, he will know what to do. But where shall we go?" her tone +changed suddenly and her arms dropped. "Even should we find a refuge +in a foreign country I could never see you again!" Her tone was so sad +that my heart was near to breaking. + +"Beloved," I exclaimed, "I will find you wherever you may hide +yourself! Should our money not be sufficient to support us I can work +for us all. I have learned to use the ax and the hoe." + +She rejoiced again and kissed me many times. We prayed to God to bless +our undertaking and parted with glad hearts. I also hoped for the +best. Doubts assail me, but God will find for us some light in this +darkness. + +Two more new witnesses. They bring nothing good, I fear, for Bruus +announced them with an expression I did not like. He has a heart of +stone, which can feel nothing but malice and bitterness. I give them a +hearing to-morrow. I feel as if they had come to bear witness against +me myself. May God strengthen my heart. + +All is over. He has confessed. + +The court was in session and the prisoner had been brought in to hear +the testimony of the new witnesses. These men stated as follows: On +the night in question they were walking along the path that led +between the woods and the rectory garden. A man with a large sack on +his back came out of the woods and walked ahead of them toward the +garden. They could not see his face, but in the bright moonlight his +figure was clearly visible, and they could see that he wore a loose +green garment, like a dressing gown, and a white nightcap. The man +disappeared through an opening in the rectory garden fence. + +Scarcely had the first witness ended his statement when the rector +turned ghastly pale, and gasped, in a voice that could scarcely be +heard, "I am ill." They gave him a chair. + +Bruus turned to his neighbor and exclaimed audibly, "That helped the +rector's memory." + +The prisoner did not hear the words, but motioned to me and said, +"Lead me back to my prison. I will talk to you there." They did as he +demanded. + +We set out at once for Grenaa. The rector was in the wagon with the +jailer and the gendarme, and I rode beside them. + +When the door of the cell was opened my beloved was making up her +father's bed, and over a chair by the bedside hung the fatal green +dressing gown. My dear betrothed greeted me with a cry of joy, as she +believed that I was come to set her father free. She hung about the +old man's neck, kissing away the tears that rolled unhindered down his +cheeks. I had not the heart to undeceive her, and I sent her out into +the town to buy some things for us. + +"Sit down, dear friend," said the rector, when we were alone. He +seated himself on the bed, staring at the ground with eyes that did +not see. Finally he turned toward me where I sat trembling, as if it +were my own sentence I was to hear, as in a manner it was. "I am a +great sinner," he sighed, "God only knows how great. His punishment +crushes me here that I may enter into His mercy hereafter." + +He grew gradually calmer and began: + +"Since my childhood I have been hot-tempered and violent. I could +never endure contradiction, and was always ready to give a blow. But I +have seldom let the sun go down upon my wrath, and I have never borne +hatred toward any man. As a half-grown boy I killed our good, kind +watchdog in one of my fits of rage for some trifling offense, and I +have never ceased to regret it. Later, as a student in Leipzig, I let +myself be carried away sufficiently to wound seriously my adversary in +one of our fencing bouts. A merciful fate alone saved me from becoming +a murderer then. It is for these earlier sins that I am now being +punished, but the punishment falls doubly hard, now that I am an old +man, a priest, a servant of the Lord of Peace, and a father! Ah, that +is the deepest wound!" He sprang up and wrung his hands in deep +despair. I would have said something to comfort him, but I could find +no words for such sorrow. + +When he had controlled himself somewhat he sat down again and +continued: "To you, once my friend and now my judge, I will confess +this crime, which it seems beyond a doubt that I have committed, +although I am not conscious cf having done so." (I was startled at +this, as I had expected a remorseful confession.) "Listen well to what +I shall now tell you. That I struck the unfortunate man with the +spade, that he fell down and then ran away, this is all that I know +with full consciousness.... What followed then? Four witnesses have +seen that I fetched the body and buried it in my garden--and now at +last I am forced to believe that it must be true. These are my reasons +for the belief. Three or four times in my life I have walked in my +sleep. The last time--it may have been nine or ten years ago--I was to +have held a funeral service on the following day, over the body of a +man who had died a sudden and terrible death. I could not find a +suitable text, until suddenly there came to me the words of an old +Greek philosopher, 'Call no man fortunate until his death.' It was in +my mind that the same idea was expressed in different words in the +Holy Scriptures. I sought and sought, but could not find it. At last I +went to bed much fatigued, and slept soundly. Next morning, when I sat +down at my desk, to my great astonishment I saw there a piece of +paper, on which was written, 'Call no man happy until his end hath +come' (Sirach xi. 34), and following it was a funeral sermon, short, +but as good in construction as any I have ever written. And all this +was in my own handwriting. It was quite out of the question that +anyone could have entered the room during the night, as I had locked +it myself, and it had not been opened until I entered next day. I knew +what had happened, as I could remember one or two such occurrences in +my life before. + +"Therefore, dear friend, when the last witnesses gave their testimony +to-day, I suddenly remembered my sleep-walking exploits, and I also +remembered, what had slipped my mind before, that on the morning after +the night the body was buried I had found my dressing gown in the hall +outside of my bedroom. This had surprised me, as I always hung it over +a chair near my bed. The unfortunate victim of my violence must have +died in the woods from his wound, and in my dream consciousness I must +have seen this and gone to fetch the body. It must be so. I know no +other explanation. God have mercy on my sinful soul." He was silent +again, covering his face with his hands and weeping bitterly. + +I was stuck dumb with astonishment and uncertainty. I had always +suspected that the victim had died on the spot where he was buried, +although I could not quite understand how the rector had managed to +bury the body by day without being seen. But I thought that he might +have covered it lightly with earth and twigs and finished his work at +night. He was a man of sufficient strength of mind to have done this. +When the latest witnesses were telling their story, I noted the +possible contradiction, and hoped it might prove a loophole of escape. +But, alas, it was all only too true, and the guilt of the rector +proven beyond a doubt. It was not at all impossible for a man to do +such things in his sleep. Just as it was quite possible that a man +with a fractured skull could run some distance before he fell to die. +The rector's story bore the stamp of truth, although the doubt _will_ +come that he desired thus to save a shred of honor for his name. + +The prisoner walked up and down the room several times, then stopping +before me he said gravely: "You have now heard my confession, here in +my prison walls. It is your mouth that must speak my sentence. But +what says your heart?" + +I could scarcely utter the words, "My heart suffers beyond expression. +I would willingly see it break if I could but save you from a shameful +death." (I dared not mention to him my last hope of escape in flight.) + +"That is impossible," he answered. "My life is forfeited. My death is +just, and shall serve as a warning to others. But promise me that you +will not desert my poor daughter. I had thought to lay her in your +arms"--tears choked his voice--"but, alas, that fond hope is vanished. +You cannot marry the daughter of a sentenced murderer. But promise me +that you will watch over her as her second father." In deep sorrow and +in tears I held his hand in mine. "Have you any news from my son?" he +began again. "I hope it will be possible to keep him in ignorance of +this terrible affair until--until it is all over. I could not bear to +see him now. And now, dear friend, let us part, not to meet again +except in the hall of justice. Grant me of your friendship one last +service, let it end soon. I long for death. Go now, my kind, +sympathetic judge. Send for me to-morrow to speak my sentence, and +send to-day for my brother in God, the pastor in Aalsoe. He shall +prepare me for death. God be with you." + +He gave me his hand with his eyes averted. I staggered from the +prison, hardly conscious of what I was doing. I would have ridden home +without seeing his daughter had she not met me by the prison door. She +must have seen the truth in my face, for she paled and caught at my +arm. She gazed at me with her soul in her eyes, but could not speak. +"Flee! Save your father in flight!" was all I could say. + +I set spurs to my horse and rode home somehow. + +To-morrow, then! + +The sentence is spoken. + +The accused was calmer than the judge. All those present, except his +bitter enemy, were affected almost to tears. Some whispered that the +punishment was too severe. + +May God be a milder judge to me than I, poor sinner, am forced to be +to my fellow men. + +She has been here. She found me ill in bed. There is no escape +possible. He will not flee. Everything was arranged and the jailer was +ready to help. But he refuses, he longs for death. God be merciful to +the poor girl. How will she survive the terrible day? I am ill in body +and soul, I can neither aid nor comfort her. There is no word from the +brother. + +I feel that I am near death myself, as near perhaps as he is, whom I +sent to his doom. Farewell, my own beloved bride.... What will she do? +she is so strangely calm--the calm of wordless despair. Her brother +has not yet come, and to-morrow--on the Ravenshill----! + +Here the diary of Erik Soerensen stopped suddenly. What followed can be +learned from the written and witnessed statements of the pastor of +Aalsoe, the neighboring parish to Veilbye. + + +II + +It was during the seventeenth year of my term of office that the +terrible event happened in the neighborhood which filled all who heard +of it with shock and horror, and brought shame and disgrace upon our +holy calling. The venerable Soeren Quist, Rector of Veilbye, killed his +servant in a fit of rage and buried the body in his garden. + +He was found guilty at the official trial, through the testimony of +many witnesses, as well as through his own confession. He was +condemned to death, and the sentence was carried out in the presence +of several thousand people on the little hill known as Ravenshill, +here in the field of Aalsoe. + +The condemned man had asked that I might visit him in his prison. I +must state that I have never given the holy sacrament to a better +prepared or more truly repentant Christian. He was calm to the last, +full of remorse for his great sin. On the field of death he spoke to +the people in words of great wisdom and power, preaching to the text +from the Lamentations of Jeremiah, chap. ii., verse 6: "He hath +despised the priest in the indignation of his anger." He spoke of his +violence and of its terrible results, and of his deep remorse. He +exhorted his hearers to let his sin and his fate be an example to +them, and a warning not to give way to anger. Then he commended his +soul to the Lord, removed his upper garments, bound up his eyes with +his own hand, then folded his hands in prayer. When I had spoken the +words, "Brother, be of good cheer. This day shalt thou be with thy +Saviour in Paradise," his head fell by the ax. + +The one thing that made death bitter for him was the thought of his +children. The son had been sent for from Copenhagen, but as we +afterwards learned, he had been absent from the city, and therefore +did not arrive until shortly after his father had paid the penalty for +his crime. + +I took the daughter into my home, where she was brought, half +fainting, after they had led her father from the prison. She had been +tending him lovingly all the days of his trial. What made even greater +sorrow for the poor girl, and for the district judge who spoke the +sentence, was that these two young people had solemnly plighted their +troth but a few short weeks before, in the rectory of Veilbye. The son +arrived just as the body of the executed criminal was brought into my +house. It had been permitted to us to bury the body with Christian +rites, if we could do it in secret. The young man threw himself over +the lifeless body. Then, clasping his sister in his arms, the two wept +together in silence for some while. At midnight we held a quiet +service over the remains of the Rector of Veilbye, and the body was +buried near the door of Aalsoe church. A simple stone, upon which I +have carved a cross, still stands to remind the passer-by of the sin +of a most unfortunate man. + +The next morning his two children had disappeared. They have never +been heard of since. God knows to what far-away corner of the world +they have fled, to hide their shame and their sorrow. The district +judge is very ill, and it is not believed that he will recover. + +May God deal with us all after His wisdom and His mercy! + +O Lord, inscrutable are thy ways! + +In the thirty-eighth year of my service, and twenty-one years after my +unfortunate brother in office, the Rector of Veilbye had been beheaded +for the murder of his servant, it happened one day that a beggar came +to my door. He was an elderly man, with gray hair, and walked with a +crutch. He looked sad and needy. None of the servants were about, so I +myself went into the kitchen and gave him a piece of bread. I asked +him where he came from. He sighed and answered: + +"From nowhere in particular." + +Then I asked him his name. He sighed still deeper, looked about him as +if in fear, and said, "They once called me Niels Bruus." + +I was startled, and said, "God have mercy on us! That is a bad name. +That is the name of a man who was killed many years back." + +Whereat the man sighed still deeper and replied: "It would have been +better for me had I died then. It has gone ill with me since I left +the country." + +At this the hair rose on my head, and I trembled in every limb. For it +seemed to me that I could recognize him, and also it seemed to me that +I saw Morten Bruus before me in the flesh, and yet I had laid the +earth over him three years before. I stepped back and made the sign of +the cross, for verily I thought it was a ghost I saw before me. + +But the man sat down in the chimney corner and continued to speak. +"Reverend father, they tell me my brother Morten is dead. I have been +to Ingvorstrup, but the new owner chased me away. Is my old master, +the Rector of Veilbye, still alive?" Then it was that the scales fell +from my eyes and I saw into the very truth of this whole terrible +affair. But the shock stunned me so that I could not speak. The man +bit into his bread greedily and went on. "Yes, that was all Brother +Morten's fault. Did the old rector have much trouble about it?" + +"Niels! Niels!" I cried from out the horror of my soul, "you have a +monstrous black sin upon your conscience! For your sake that +unfortunate man fell by the ax of the executioner!" + +The bread and the crutch fell from his hand, and he himself was near +to falling into the fire. "May God forgive you, Morten!" he groaned. +"God knows I didn't mean anything like that. May my sin be forgiven +me! But surely you only mean to frighten me! I come from far away, and +have heard nothing. No one but you, reverend father, has recognized +me. I have told my name to no one. When I asked them in Veilbye if the +rector was still there, they said that he was." + +"That is the new rector," I replied. "Not he whom you and your sinful +brother have slain." + +He wrung his hands and cried aloud, and then I knew that he had been +but a tool in the hands of that devil, Morten. Therefore I set to work +to comfort him, and took him into my study that he might calm himself +sufficiently to tell me the detail of this Satan's work. + +This was the story as he tells it: His brother Morten--truly a son of +Belial--cherished a deadly hatred toward pastor Soeren Quist since the +day the latter had refused him the hand of his daughter. As soon as he +heard that the pastor's coachman had left him, he persuaded Niels to +take the place. + +"Watch your chance well," he had said, "we'll play the black coat a +trick some day, and you will be no loser by it." + +Niels, who was rough and defiant by nature, soon came to a quarrel +with his master, and when he had received his first chastisement, he +ran at once to Ingvorstrup to report it. "Let him strike you just once +again," said Morten. "Then come to me, and we will pay him for it." + +Then came the quarrel in the garden, and Niels ran off to Ingvorstrup. +He met his brother in the woods and told him what had occurred. + +"Did anyone see you on the way here?" asked Morten. + +Niels thought not. "Good," said Morten; "now we'll give him a fright +that he will not forget for a week or so." + +He led Niels carefully to the house, and kept him hidden there the +rest of the day. When all the household else had gone to sleep the two +brothers crept out, and went to a field where several days before they +had buried the body of a man of about Niels' age, size, and general +appearance. (He had hanged himself, some said because of ill-treatment +from Morten, in whose service he was. Others said it was because of +unhappy love.) They dug up the corpse, although Niels did not like the +work, and protested. But Morten was the stronger, and Niels had to do +as he was ordered. They carried the body back with them into the +house. + +Then Niels was ordered to take off all his clothes, piece by piece, +even to his shirt, and dress the dead man in them. Even his leaden +earring, which he had worn for many years, was put in the ear of the +corpse. After this was done, Morten took a spade and gave the head of +the corpse two crashing blows, one over the nose, the other on the +temple. The body was hidden in a sack and kept in the house during the +next day. At night the day following, they carried it out to the wood +near Veilbye. + +Several times Niels had asked of his brother what all this preparation +boded. But Morten answered only, "That is my affair. Do as I tell you, +and don't ask questions." + +When they neared the edge of the wood by Veilbye, Morten said, "Now +fetch me one of the coats the pastor wears most. If you can, get the +green dressing gown I have often seen him wear mornings." + +"I don't dare," said Niels, "he keeps it in his bed chamber." + +"Well, then, I'll dare it myself," said Morten. "And now, go your way, +and never show yourself here again. Here is a bag with one hundred +thalers. They will last you until you can take service somewhere in +another country. Go where no one has ever seen you, and take another +name. Never come back to Denmark again. Travel by night, and hide in +the woods by day until you are well away from here. Here are +provisions enough to last you for several days. And remember, never +show yourself here again, as you value your life." + +Niels obeyed, and has never seen his brother since that day. He had +had much trouble, had been a soldier and lost his health in the war, +and finally, after great trials and sufferings, had managed to get +back to the land of his birth. This was the story as told me by the +miserable man, and I could not doubt its truth. + +It was now only too clear to me that my unfortunate brother in the +Lord had fallen a victim to the hatred of his fiendish enemy, to the +delusion of his judge and the witnesses, and to his own credulous +imagination. + +Oh, what is man that he shall dare to sit in judgment over his +fellows! God alone is the Judge. He who gives life may alone give +death! + +I did not feel it my duty to give official information against this +crushed and broken sinner, particularly as the district judge is still +alive, and it would have been cruelty to let him know of his terrible +error. + +Instead, I gave what comfort my office permitted to the poor man, and +recommended him not to reveal his name or tell his story to anyone in +the district. On these conditions I would give him a home until I +could arrange for a permanent refuge for him in my brother's house, a +good distance from these parts. + +The day following was a Sunday. When I returned from evening service +at my branch parish, the beggar had disappeared. But by the evening of +the next day the story was known throughout the neighborhood. + +Goaded by the pangs of conscience, Niels had gone to Rosmer and made +himself known to the judge as the true Niels Bruus. Upon the hearing +of the terrible truth, the judge was taken with a stroke and died +before the week was out. But on Tuesday morning they found Niels Bruus +dead on the grave of the late rector Soeren Quist of Veilbye, by the +door of Aalsoe church. + + + +_HUNGARIAN MYSTERY STORIES_ + + + +FERENCZ MOLNAR + + +_THE LIVING DEATH_ + + +There is a very serious reason, my dear sisters, why at last, after an +absence of twenty years in America, I am confiding to you this strange +secret in the life of our beloved and lamented father, and of the old +house where we were children together. The truth is, if I read rightly +the countenances of my physicians as they whisper to each other by the +window of the chamber in which I am lying, that only a few days of +this life remain to me. + +It is not right that this secret should die with me, my dear sisters. +Though it will seem terrible to you, as it has to me, it will enable +you to better understand our blessed father, help you to account for +what must have seemed to you to be strange inconsistencies in his +character. That this secret was revealed to me was due to my indolence +and childish curiosity. + +For the first, and the last, time in my life I listened at a keyhole. +With shame and a hotly chiding conscience I yielded to that insatiable +curiosity--and when you have read these lines you will understand why +I do not regret that inexcusable, furtive act. + +I was only a lad when we went to live in that odd little house. You +remember it stood in the outskirts of Rakos, near the new cemetery. It +stood on a deep lot, and was roughly boarded on the side which looked +on the highway. You remember that on the first floor, next the street, +were the room of our father, the dining room, and the children's room. +In the rear of the house was the sculpture studio. There we had the +large white hall with big windows, where white-clothed laborers +worked. They mixed the plaster, made forms, chiseled, scratched, and +sawed. Here in this large hall had our father worked for thirty years. + +When I arrived, in the holidays, I noted a change in our father's +countenance. His beard was white, even when he did not work with the +plaster. Through his strong spectacles his eyes glittered peculiarly. +He was less calm than formerly. And he did not speak much, but all the +more did he read. + +Why, we all knew that after the passing away of our mother he became a +bookworm, reading very often by candlelight until morning. + +Then did it happen, about the fourth day after my arrival. I spent my +leisure hours in the studio; I carved little figures, formed little +pillar heads from the white plaster. In the corner a big barrel stood +filled with water. It was noon; the laborers went to lunch. + +I sat down close to the barrel and carved a Corinthian pillar. Father +came into the studio and did not notice me. He carried in his hands +two plates of soup. When he came into the studio he closed the door +behind him and looked around in the shop, as though to make sure he +was not observed. As I have said, he did not notice me. I was +astonished. Holding my breath, I listened. Father went through the +large hall, and then opened a small door, of which I knew only so much +that it led into a chamber three steps lower than the studio. + +I was full of expectation. I listened. I did not hear a word of +conversation. Presently father came back with the empty plates in his +hand. Somebody bolted the chamber's door behind him. + +Father went out of the studio, and I, much embarrassed, crept from +behind the barrel. + +I knew that the chamber had a window, which looked back toward the +plowed fields. I ran out of the studio and around the house. Much to +my astonishment, the chamber's window was curtained inside. A large +yellow plaid curtain hid everything from view. But I had to go, +anyway, for I heard Irma's voice calling from the yard: + +"Antal, to lunch!" + +I sat down to the table with you, my sisters, and looked at father. He +was sitting at the head of the table, and ate without saying a word. + +Day after day I troubled my head about this mystery in the chamber, +but said not a word to anybody. I went into the studio, as usual, but +I did not notice anything peculiar. Not a sound came from the chamber, +and when our father worked in the shop with his ten laborers he passed +by the small door as if beyond it there was nothing out of the +ordinary. + +On Thursday I had to go back to Germany. On Tuesday night curiosity +seized me again. Suddenly I felt that perhaps never would I know what +was going on in my father's house. That night, when the working people +were gone, I went into the studio. For a long time I was lost in my +thoughts. All kinds of romantic ideas passed through my head, while my +gaze rested on that small mysterious chamber door. + +In the studio it was dark already, and from under the small door in a +thin border a yellow radiance poured out. Suddenly I regained my +courage. I went to the door and listened. Somebody was speaking. It +was a man's voice, but I did not understand what he was saying. I was +putting my ear close to the door, when I heard steps at the front of +the studio. Father came. + +I quickly withdrew myself behind the barrel. Father walked through the +hall and knocked on the door softly. The bolt clicked and the door +opened. Father went into the chamber and closed the door immediately +and locked it. + +Now all discretion and sense of honor in me came to an end. Curiosity +mastered me. I knew that last year one part of this small room had +been partitioned off and was used as a woodhouse. And I knew that +there was a possibility of going into the woodhouse through the yard. + +I went out, therefore, but found the woodhouse was closed. Driven by +trembling curiosity, I ran into the house, took the key of the +woodhouse from its nail, and in a minute, through the crevice between +two planks, I was looking into that mysterious little room. + +There was a table in the middle of the room, and beside the wall were +two straw mattresses. On the table a lighted candle stood. A bottle of +wine was beside it, and around the table were sitting father and two +strangers. Both the strangers were all in black. Something in their +appearance froze me with terror. + +I fled in a panic of unreasoning fear, but returned soon, devoured by +curiosity. + +You, my sister Irma, must remember how I found you there, gazing with +starting eyeballs on the same mysteriously terrifying scene--and how I +drew you away with a laugh and a trifling explanation, so that I might +return and resume my ghastly vigil alone. + +One of the strangers wore a frock coat and had a sunburned, brown +face. He was not old yet, not more than forty-five or forty-eight. He +seemed to be a tradesman in his Sunday clothes. That did not interest +me much. + +I looked at the other old man, and then a shiver of cold went through +me. He was a famous physician, a professor, Mr. H----. I desire to lay +stress upon it that he it was, for I had read two weeks before in the +papers that he had died and was buried! + +And now he was sitting, in evening dress, in the chamber of a poor +plaster sculptor, in the chamber of my father behind a bolted door! + +I was aware of the fact that the physician knew father. Why, you can +recall that when father had asthma he consulted Mr. H----. Moreover, +the professor visited us very frequently. The papers said he was dead, +yet here he was! + +With beating heart and in terror, I looked and listened. + +The professor put some shining little thing on the table. + +"Here is my diamond shirt stud," he said to my father, "It is yours." + +Father pushed the jewel aside, refusing the gift. + +"Why, you are spending money on me," said the professor. + +"It makes no difference," replied father; "I shan't take the diamond." + +Then they were silent for a long while. At length the professor smiled +and said: + +"The pair of cuff buttons which I had from Prince Eugene I presented +to the watchman in the cemetery. They are worth a thousand guldens." + +And he showed his cuffs, from which the buttons were missing. Then he +turned to the sunburned man: + +"What did you give him, General Gardener?" + +The tall, strong man unbuttoned his frock coat. + +"Everything I had--my gold chain, my scarf pin, and my ring." + +I did not understand all that. What was it? Where did they come from? +A horrible presentiment arose in me. They came from the cemetery! They +wore the very clothes in which they were buried! + +What had happened to them? Were they only apparently dead? Did they +awake? Did they rise from the dead? What are they seeking here? + +They had a very low-voiced conversation with father. I listened in +vain. Only later on, when they got warmed with their subject and spoke +more audibly, did I understand them. + +"There is no other way," said the professor. "Put it in your will that +the coroner shall pierce your heart through with a knife." + +Do you remember, my sisters, the last will of our father, which was +thus executed? + +Father did not say a word. Then the professor went on, saying: + +"That would be a splendid invention. Had I been living till now I +would have published a book about it. Nobody takes the Indian fakir +seriously here in Europe. But, despite this, the buried fakirs, who +are two months under ground and then come back into life, are very +serious men. Perhaps they are more serious than ourselves, with all +our scientific knowledge. There are strange, new, dreadful things for +which we are not yet matured enough. + +"I died upon their methods; I can state that now. The mental state +which they reach systematically I reached accidentally. The solitude, +the absorbedness, the lying in a bed month by month, the gazing upon a +fixed point hour by hour--these are all self-evident facts with me, a +deserted misanthrope. + +"I died as the Indian fakirs do, and were I not a descendant of an old +noble family, who have a tomb in this country, I would have died +really. + +"God knows how it happened. I don't think there is any use of worrying +ourselves about it. I have still four days. Then we go for good and +all. But not back, no, no, not back to life!" + +He pointed with his hand toward the city. His face was burning from +fever, and he knitted his brows. His countenance was horrible at this +moment. Then he looked at the man with the sunburned face. + +"The case of Mr. Gardener is quite different. This is an ordinary +physician's error. But he has less than four days. He will be gone +to-morrow or positively day after to-morrow." + +He grasped the pulse of the sunburned man. + +"At this minute his pulse beats a hundred and twelve. You have a day +left, Mr. Gardener. But not back. We don't go back. Never!" + +Father said nothing. He looked at the professor with seriousness, and +fondly. The professor drank a glass of wine, and then turned toward +father. + +"Go to bed. You have to get up early; you still live; you have +children. We shall sleep if we can do so. It is very likely that +General Gardener won't see another morning. You must not witness +that." + +Now father began to speak, slowly, reverently. + +"If you, professor, have to send word--or perhaps Mr. +Gardener--somebody we must take care of--a command, if you have--" + +The professor looked at him sternly, saying but one word: + +"Nothing." + +Father was still waiting. + +"Absolutely nothing," repeated the professor. "I have died, but I have +four days yet. I live those here, my dear old friend, with you. But I +don't go back any more. I don't even turn my face backward. I don't +want to know where the others live. I don't want life, old man. It is +not honorable to go back. Go, my friend--go to bed." + +Father shook hands with them and disappeared. General Gardener sat +stiffly on his chair. The professor gazed into the air. + +I began to be aware of all that had happened here. These two +apparently dead men had come back from the cemetery, but how, in what +manner, by what means? I don't understand it perfectly even now. +There, in the small room, near to the cemetery, they were living their +few remaining days. They did not want to go back again into life. + +I shuddered. During these few minutes I seemed to have learned the +meaning of life and of death. Now I myself felt that the life of the +city was at a vast distance. I had a feeling that the professor was +right. It was not worth while. I, too, felt tired, tired of life, like +the professor, the feverish, clever, serious old man who came from the +coffin and was sitting there in his grave clothes waiting for the +final death. + +They did not speak a word to each other. They were simply waiting. I +did not have power to move away from the crack in the wall through +which I saw them. + +And now there happened the awful thing that drove me away from our +home, never to return. + +It was about half-past one when someone tapped on the window. The +professor took alarm and looked at Mr. Gardener a warning to take no +notice. But the tapping grew louder. The professor got up and went to +the window. + +He lifted the yellow curtain and looked out into the night. Quickly he +returned and spoke to General Gardener, and then both went to the +window and spoke with the person who had knocked. After a long +conversation they lifted the man through the window. + +On this terrible day nothing could happen that would surprise me. I +was benumbed. The man who was lifted through the window was clad in +white linen to his feet. He was a Hebrew, a poor, thin, weak, pale +Hebrew. He wore his white funeral dress. He shivered from cold, +trembled, seemed almost unconscious. The professor gave him some wine. +The Hebrew stammered: + +"Terrible! Oh, horrible!" + +I learned from his broken language that he had not been buried yet, +like the professor. He had not yet known the smell of the earth. He +had come from his bier. + +"I was laid out a corpse," he whimpered. "My God, they would have +buried me by to-morrow!" + +The professor gave him wine again. + +"I saw a light here," he went on. "I beg you will give me some +clothes--some soup, if you please--and I am going back again." Then he +said in German: + +"Meine gute, theure Frau! Meine Kinder!" (My good wife, my children.) + +He began to weep. The professor's countenance changed to a devilish +expression when he heard this lament. He despised the lamenting +Hebrew. + +"You are going back?" he thundered. "But you won't go back! Don't +shame yourself!" + +The Hebrew gazed at him stupidly. + +"I live in Rottenbiller Street," he stammered. "My name is Joseph +Braun." + +He bit his nails in his nervous agitation. Tears filled his eyes. "Ich +muss zu meine Kinder," he said in German again. (I must go to my +children.) + +"No!" exclaimed the professor. "You'll never go back!" + +"But why?" + +"I will not permit it!" + +The Hebrew looked around. He felt that something was wrong here. His +startled manner seemed to ask: "Am I in a lunatic asylum?" He dropped +his head and said to the professor simply: + +"I am tired." + +The professor pointed to the straw mattress. + +"Go to sleep. We will speak further in the morning." + +Fever blazed in the professor's face. On the other straw mattress +General Gardener now slept with his face to the wall. + +The Hebrew staggered to the straw mattress, threw himself down, and +wept. The weeping shook him terribly. The professor sat at the table +and smiled. + +Finally the Hebrew fell asleep. Hours passed in silence. I stood +motionless looking at the professor, who gazed into the candlelight. +There was not much left of it. Presently he sighed and blew it out. +For a little while there was dark, and then I saw the dawn penetrating +the yellow curtain at the window. The professor leaned back in his +chair, stretched out his feet, and closed his eyes. + +All at once the Hebrew got up silently and went to the window. He +believed the professor was asleep. He opened the window carefully and +started to creep out. The professor leaped from his chair, shouting: + +"No!" + +He caught the Hebrew by his shroud and held him back. There was a long +knife in his hand. Without another word, the professor pierced the +Hebrew through the heart. + +He put the limp body on the straw mattress, then went out of the +chamber toward the studio. In a few minutes he came back with father. +Father was pale and did not speak. They covered the dead Hebrew with a +rug, and then, one after the other, crept out through the window, +lifted the corpse out, and carried it away. In a quarter of an hour +they came back. They exchanged a few words, from which I learned that +they had succeeded in putting the dead Hebrew back on his bier without +having been observed. + +They shut the window. The professor drank a glass of wine and again +stretched out his legs on the chair. + +"It is impossible to go back," he said. "It is not allowed." + +Father went away. I did not see him any more. I staggered up to my +room, went to bed, and slept immediately. The next day I got up at ten +o'clock. I left the city at noon. + +Since that time, my dear sisters, you have not seen me. I don't know +anything more. At this minute I say to myself that what I know, what I +have set down here, is not true. Maybe it never happened, maybe I have +dreamed it all. I am not clear in my mind. I have a fever. + +But I am not afraid of death. Here, on my hospital bed, I see the +professor's feverish but calm and wise face. When he grasped the +Hebrew by the throat he looked like a lover of Death, like one who has +a secret relation with the passing of life, who advocates the claims +of Death, and who punishes him who would cheat Death. + +Now Death urges his claim upon me. I have no desire to cheat him--I am +so tired, so very tired. + +God be with you, my dear sisters. + + + +MAURUS JOKAI + + +_THIRTEEN AT TABLE_ + + +We are far amidst the snow-clad mountains of Transylvania. + +The scenery is magnificent. In clear weather, the plains of Hungary as +far as the Rez promontory may be seen from the summit of the +mountains. Groups of hills rise one above the other, covered with +thick forest, which, at the period when our tale commences, had just +begun to assume the first light green of spring. + +Toward sunset, a slight purple mist overspread the farther pinnacles, +leaving their ridges still tinged with gold. On the side of one of +these hills the white turrets of an ancient family mansion gleamed +from amid the trees. + +Its situation was peculiarly romantic. A steep rock descended on one +side, on whose pinnacle rose a simple cross. In the depth of the +valley beneath lay a scattered village, whose evening bells +melodiously broke the stillness of nature. + +Farther off, some broken roofs arose among the trees, from whence the +sound of the mill, and the yellow-tinted stream, betrayed the miners' +dwellings. + +Through the meadows in the valley beneath a serpentine rivulet wound +its silvery way, interrupted by numerous falls and huge blocks of +stone, which had been carried down in bygone ages from the mountains +during the melting of the snows. + +A little path, cut in the side of the rock, ascended to the castle; +while higher up, a broad road, somewhat broken by the mountain +streams, conducted across the hills to more distant regions. + +The castle itself was an old family mansion, which had received many +additions at different periods, as the wealth or necessities of the +family suggested. + +It was surrounded by groups of ancient chestnut trees, and the terrace +before the court was laid out in gardens, which were now filled with +anemones, hyacinths, and other early flowers. Now and then the head of +a joyous child appeared at the windows, which were opened to admit the +evening breeze; while various members of the household retinue were +seen hastening through the corridors, or standing at the doors in +their embroidered liveries. + +The castle was completely surrounded by a strong railwork of iron, the +stone pillars were overgrown by the evergreen leaves of the gobea and +epomoea. + +It was the early spring of 1848. + +A party, consisting of thirteen persons, had assembled in the +dining-room. They were all members of one family, and all bore the +name of Bardy. + +At the head of the board sat the grandmother, an old lady of eighty +years of age, whose snow-white hair was dressed according to the +fashion of her times beneath her high white cap. Her face was pale and +much wrinkled, and the eyes turned constantly upwards, as is the case +with persons who have lost their sight. Her hand and voice trembled +with age, and there was something peculiarly striking in the thick +snow-white eyebrows. + +On her right hand sat her eldest son, Thomas Bardy, a man of between +fifty and sixty. With a haughty and commanding countenance, +penetrating glance, lofty figure, and noble mien, he was a true type +of that ancient aristocracy which is now beginning to die out. + +Opposite to him, at the old lady's left hand, sat the darling of the +family--a lovely girl of about fifteen. Her golden hair fell in +luxuriant tresses round a countenance of singular beauty and +sweetness. The large and lustrous deep-blue eyes were shaded by long +dark lashes, and her complexion was pale as the lily, excepting when +she smiled or spoke, and a slight flush like the dawn of morning +overspread her cheeks. + +Jolanka was the orphan child of a distant relative, whom the Bardys +had adopted. They could not allow one who bore their name to suffer +want; and it seemed as if each member of the family had united to heap +affection and endearment on the orphan girl, and thus prevented her +from feeling herself a stranger among them. + +There were still two other female members of the family: Katalin, the +old lady's daughter, who had been for many years a widow; and the wife +of one of her sons, a pretty young woman, who was trying to teach a +little prattler at her side to use the golden spoon which she had +placed in his small, fat hand, while he laughed and crowed, and the +family did their best to guess what he said, or what he most +preferred. + +Opposite to them there sat two gentlemen. One of them was the husband +of the young mother, Jozsef Bardy--a handsome man of about +thirty-five, with regular features, and black hair and beard; a +constant smile beamed on his gay countenance, while he playfully +addressed his little son and gentle wife across the table. The other +was his brother, Barnabas--a man of herculean form and strength. His +face was marked by smallpox; he wore neither beard or mustache, and +his hair was combed smoothly back, like a peasant's. His disposition +was melancholy and taciturn; but he seemed constantly striving to +atone, by the amiability of his manners, for an unprepossessing +exterior. + +Next to him sat a little cripple, whose pale countenance bore that +expression of suffering sweetness so peculiar to the deformed, while +his lank hair, bony hands, and misshapen shoulders awakened the +beholder's pity. He, too, was an orphan--a grandchild of the old +lady's; his parents had died some years before. + +Two little boys of about five years old sat opposite to him. They were +dressed alike, and the resemblance between them was so striking that +they were constantly mistaken. They were twin-children of the young +couple. + +At the lower end of the table sat Imre Bardy, a young man of twenty, +whose handsome countenance was full of life and intelligence, his +figure manly and graceful, and his manner courteous and agreeable. A +slight moustache was beginning to shade his upper lip, and his dark +hair fell in natural ringlets around his head. He was the only son of +the _majoresco_, Tamas Bardy, and resembled him much in form and +feature. + +Beside him sat an old gentleman, with white hair and ruddy complexion. +This was Simon Bardy, an ancient relative, who had grown old with the +grandmother of the family. + +The same peculiarity characterized every countenance in the Bardy +family--namely the lofty forehead and marked brows, and the large +deep-blue eyes, shaded by their heavy dark lashes.[1] + +"How singular!" exclaimed one of the party; "we are thirteen at table +to-day." + +"One of us will surely die," said the old lady; and there was a +mournful conviction in the faint, trembling tones. + +"Oh, no, grandmother, we are only twelve and a half!" exclaimed the +young mother, taking the little one on her knee. + +"This little fellow only counts half on the railroad." + +All the party laughed at this remark, even the little cripple's +countenance relaxed into a sickly smile. + +"Ay, ay," continued the old lady, "the trees are now putting forth +their verdure, but at the fall of the leaf who knows if all of us, or +any of us, may still be sitting here?" + + * * * * * + +Several months had passed since this slight incident. + +In one of the apartments of the castle, the eldest Bardy and his son +were engaged in earnest conversation. + +The father paced hastily up and down the apartment, now and then +stopping short to address his son, who stood in the embrasure of one +of the windows. The latter wore the dress of the Matyas Hussars[2]--a +gray dolmany, with crimson cord; he held a crimson csako, with a +tricolored cockade, in his hand. + +"Go," said the father, speaking in broken accents; "the sooner the +better; let me not see you! Do not think I speak in anger, but I +cannot bear to look at you, and think where you are going. You are my +only son, and you know how I have loved you--how all my hopes have +been concentrated in you. But do not think that these tears, which you +see me shed for the first time, are on your account; for if I knew I +should lose you,--if your blood were to flow at the next battle,--I +should only bow my head in dust and say, 'The Lord gave, and the Lord +takes away, blessed be His holy name!' Yes, if I heard that you and +your infatuated companions were cut to pieces, I could stifle the +burning tears; but to know that your blood, when it flows, will be a +curse upon the earth, and your death will be the death of two +kingdoms--" + +"They may die now; but they will regenerate----" + +"This is not true; you only deceive yourselves with the idea that you +can build up a new edifice when you have overthrown the old one. Great +God, what sacrilege! Who had intrusted you with the fate of our +country, to tempt the Almighty? Who authorized you to lose all there +is for the hope of what may be? For centuries past have so many +honorable men fought in vain to uphold the old tottering constitution, +as you call it? Or were they not true patriots and heroes? Your +companions have hissed their persecuted countrymen in the Diet; but do +they love their country better than we do, who have shed our blood and +sacrificed our interests for her from generation to generation, and +even suffered disgrace, if necessary, to keep her in life?--for though +that life has been gradually weakened, still it is life. You promise +her glory; but the name of glory is death!" + +"It may be so, father; we may lose our country as regards ourselves, +but we give one instead of ten millions, who were hitherto our own +people, and yet strangers in their native land." + +"Chimera! The people will not understand you. They never even dreamt +of what you wish to give them. The true way to seek the people's +welfare is to give them what they need. + +"Ask my dependents! Is there one among them whom I have allowed to +suffer want or ruin, whom I have not assisted in times of need?--or +have I ever treated them unjustly? You will not hear a murmur. Tell +them that I am unjust notwithstanding, because I do not call the +peasant from his plow to give his opinions on forming the laws, and +constitution,--and what will be the consequence? They will stare at +you in astonishment; and yet, in their mistaken wrath, they will come +down some night and burn this house over my head." + +"That is the unnatural state of the times. It is all the fault of the +past bad management, if the people have no better idea. But let the +peasant once be free, let him be a man, and he will understand all +that is now strange to him." + +"But that freedom will cost the lives of thousands!" + +"I do not deny it. Indeed, I believe that neither I nor any of the +present generation will reap the fruits of this movement. I think it +probable that in a few years not one of those whose names we now hear +spoken of may still be living; and what is more, disgrace and curses +may be heaped upon their dust. But a time will come when the great +institutions of which they have laid the foundation will arise and +render justice to the memory of those who sacrificed themselves for +the happiness of future generations. To die for our country is a +glorious death, but to carry with us the curses of thousands, to die +despised and hated for the salvation of future millions, oh! that is +sublime--it is Messiah-like!" + +"My son--my only son!" cried his father, throwing himself passionately +on the young man's neck and sobbing bitterly. "Do you see these +tears?" + +"For the first time in my life I see them, father--I see you weep; my +heart can scarcely bear the weight of these tears--and yet I go! You +have reason to weep, for I bring neither joy nor glory on your +head--and yet I go! A feeling stronger than the desire of glory, +stronger than the love of my country, inspires my soul; and it is a +proof of the strength of my faith that I see your tears, my +father--and yet I go!" + +"Go!" murmured his father, in a voice of despair. "You may never +return again, or, when you do, you may find neither your father's +house nor the grave in which he is laid! But know, even then, in the +hour of your death, or in the hour of mine, I do not curse you--and +now, leave me." With these words he turned away and motioned to his +son to depart. + +Imre silently left the apartment, and as soon as he had closed the +door the tears streamed from his eyes; but before his sword had struck +the last step his countenance had regained its former determination, +and the fire of enthusiasm had kindled in his eye. + +He then went to take leave of his Uncle Jozsef, whom he found +surrounded by his family. The twins were sitting at his feet, while +his wife was playing bo-peep with the little one, who laughed and +shouted, while his mother hid herself behind his father's armchair. + +Imre's entrance interrupted the general mirth. The little boy ran over +to examine the sword and golden tassels, while the little one began to +cry in alarm at the sight of the strange dress. + +"Csitt, baba!" said his mother, taking him from his father's arms; +"your cousin is going to wars, and will bring you a golden horse." + +Jozsef wrung his nephew's hand. "God be with you!" he exclaimed, and +added in a lower voice, "You are the noblest of us all--you have done +well!" + +They then all embraced him in turns, and Imre left them, amidst +clamors of the little ones, and proceeded to his grandmother's +apartments. + +On the way, he met his Uncle Barnabas, who embraced him again and +again in silence, and then tore himself away without saying a word. + +The old lady sat in her great armchair, which she seldom quitted, and +as she heard the clash of Imre's sword, she looked up and asked who +was coming. + +"It is Imre!" said the fair-haired maiden, blushing, and her heart +beat quickly as she pronounced his name. + +Jolanka felt that Imre was more than a brother to her, and the feeling +with which she had learnt to return his affection was warmer than even +a sister's love. + +The widow lady and the cripple were also in the grandmother's +apartment; the child sat on a stool at the old lady's feet, and smiled +sadly as the young man entered. + +"Why that sword at your side, Imre?" asked the old lady in a feeble +voice. "Ah, this is no good world--no good world! But if God is +against us, who can resist His hand? I have spoken with the dead again +in dreams. I thought they all came around me and beckoned me to follow +them; but I am ready to go, and place my life with gratitude and +confidence in the hands of the Lord. Last night I saw the year 1848 +written in the skies in letters of fire. Who knows what may come over +us yet? This is no good world--no good world!" + +Imre bent silently over the old lady's hand and kissed it. + +"And so you are going? Well, God bless and speed you, if you go +beneath the cross, and never forget in life or in death to raise your +heart to the Lord;" and the old lady placed her withered hand upon her +grandson's head, and murmured, "God Almighty bless you!" + +"My husband was just such a handsome youth when I lost him," sighed +the widow lady as she embraced her nephew. "God bless you!" + +The little cripple threw his arms around his cousin's knees and, +sobbing, entreated him not to stay long away. + +The last who bade farewell was Jolanka. She approached with downcast +eyes, holding in her small white hands an embroidered cockade, which +she placed on his breast. It was composed of five colors--blue and +gold, red, white, and green.[3] + +"I understand," said the young man, in a tone of joyful surprise, as +he pressed the sweet girl to his heart, "Erdely[4] and Hungary united! +I shall win glory for your colors!" + +The maiden yielded to his warm embrace, murmuring, as he released her, +"Remember me!" + +"When I cease to remember you, I shall be no more," replied the youth +fervently. + +And then he kissed the young girl's brow, and once more bidding +farewell, he hurried from the apartment. + +Old Simon Bardy lived on the first floor: Imre did not forget him. + +"Well, nephew," said the old man cheerfully, "God speed you, and give +you strength to cut down many Turks!" + +"It is not with the Turks that we shall have to do," replied the young +man, smiling. + +"Well, with the French," said the old soldier of the past century, +correcting himself. + +A page waited at the gate with two horses saddled and bridled. + +"I shall not require you--you may remain at home," said Imre, as, +taking the bridle of one of the horses, vaulting lightly into the +saddle, he pressed his csako over his brow and galloped from the +castle. + +As he rode under the cross, he checked his horse and looked back. Was +it of his grandmother's words, or of the golden-haired Jolanka that he +thought? + +A white handkerchief waved from the window. + +"Farewell, light of my soul!" murmured the youth; and kissing his +hand, he once more dashed his spurs into his horse's flank, and turned +down the steep hill. + +Those were strange times. All at once the villages began to be +depopulated; the inhabitants disappeared, none knew whither. The doors +of the houses were closed. + +The bells were no longer heard in the evening, nor the maiden's song +as she returned from her work. The barking of dogs which had lost +their masters alone interrupted the silence of the streets, where the +grass began to grow. + +Imre Bardy rode through the streets of the village without meeting a +soul; few of the chimneys had smoke, and no fires gleamed through the +kitchen windows. + +Evening was drawing on, and a slight transparent mist had overspread +the valley. Imre was desirous of reaching Kolozsvar[5] early on the +next morning, and continued his route all night. + +About midnight the moon rose behind the trees, shedding her silvery +light over the forest. All was still, excepting the echo of the +miner's hammer, and the monotonous sound of his horse's step along the +rocky path. He rode on, lost in thought; when suddenly the horse +stopped short, and pricked his ears. + +"Come, come," said Imre, stroking his neck, "you have not heard the +cannon yet." + +The animal at last proceeded, turning his head impatiently from side +to side, and snorting and neighing with fear. + +The road now led through a narrow pass between two rocks, whose +summits almost met, and a slight bridge, formed of one or two rotten +planks, was thrown across the dry channel of a mountain stream which +cut up the path. + +As Imre reached the bridge, the horse backed, and no spurring could +induce him to cross. Imre at last pressed his knee angrily against the +trembling animal, striking him at the same time across the neck with +the bridle, on which the horse suddenly cleared the chasm at one bound +and then again turned and began to back. + +At that instant a fearful cry arose from beneath, which was echoed +from the rocks around, and ten or fifteen savage-looking beings +climbed from under the bridge, with lances formed of upright scythes. + +Even then there would have been time for the horseman to turn back, +and dash through a handful of men behind him, but either he was +ashamed of turning from the first conflict, or he was desirous, at any +risk, to reach Kolozsvar at the appointed time, and instead of +retreating by the bridge, he galloped towards the other end of the +pass, where the enemy rushed upon him from every side, yelling +hideously. + +"Back, Wallachian dogs!" cried Imre, cutting two of them down, while +several others sprang forward with the scythes. + +Two shots whistled by, and Imre, letting go the bridle, cut right and +left, his sword gleaming rapidly among the awkward weapons; and taking +advantage of a moment in which the enemy's charge began to slacken, he +suddenly dashed through the crowd towards the outlet of the rock, +without perceiving that another party awaited him above the rocks with +great stones, with which they prepared to crush him as he passed. + +He was only a few paces from the spot, when a gigantic figure, armed +with a short broad-axe, and with a Roman helmet on his head, descended +from the rock in front of him, and seizing the reins of the horse +forced him to halt. The young man aimed a blow at his enemy's head, +and the helmet fell back, cut through the middle, but the force of the +blow had broken his sword in two; and the horse lifted by his giant +foe, reared, so that the rider, losing his balance, was thrown against +the side of the rock, and fell senseless to the ground. + +At the same instant a shot was fired toward them from the top of the +rock. + +"Who fired there?" cried the giant, in a voice of thunder. The +bloodthirsty Wallachians would have rushed madly on their defenseless +prey, had not the giant stood between him and them. + +"Who fired on me?" he sternly exclaimed. The Wallachians stood back in +terror. + +"It was not on you, Decurio, that I fired, but on the hussar," +stammered out one of the men, on whom the giant had fixed his eye. + +"You lie, traitor! Your ball struck my armor, and had I not worn a +shirt of mail, it would have pierced my heart." + +The man turned deadly pale, trembling from head to foot. + +"My enemies have paid you to murder me?" The savage tried to speak, +but words died upon his lips. + +"Hang him instantly--he is a traitor!" + +The rest of the gang immediately seized the culprit and carried him to +the nearest tree, from whence his shrieks soon testified that his +sentence was being put in execution. + +The Decurio remained alone with the young man; and hastily lifting +him, still senseless, from the ground, he mounted his horse, and +placing him before him ere the savage horde had returned, he had +galloped some distance along the road from whence the youth had come, +covering him with his mantle as he passed the bridge, to conceal him +from several of the gang who stood there, and exclaiming, "Follow me +to the Topanfalvo." + +As soon as they were out of sight, he suddenly turned to the left, +down a steep, hilly path, and struck into the depth of the forest. + +The morning sun had just shot its first beams across the hills, +tinting with golden hue the reddening autumn leaves, when the young +hussar began to move in his fevered dreams, and murmured the name +"Jolanka." + +In a few moments he opened his eyes. He was lying in a small chamber, +through the only window of which the sunbeams shone upon his face. + +The bed on which he lay was made of lime-boughs, simply woven +together, and covered with wolves' skins. A gigantic form was leaning +against the foot of the bed with his arms folded, and as the young man +awoke, he turned round. It was the Decurio. + +"Where am I?" asked the young man, vaguely endeavoring to recall the +events of the past night. + +"In my house," replied Decurio. + +"And who are you?" + +"I am Numa, Decurio of the Roumin[6] Legion, your foe in battle, but +now your host and protector." + +"And why did you save me from your men?" asked the young man, after a +short silence. + +"Because the strife was unequal--a hundred against one." + +"But had it not been for you, I could have freed myself from them." + +"Without me you had been lost. Ten paces from where I stopped your +horse, you would inevitably have been dashed to pieces by huge stones +which they were preparing to throw down upon you from the rock." + +"And you did not desire my death?" + +"No, because it would have reflected dishonor on the Roumin name." + +"You are a chivalrous man, Decurio!" + +"I am what you are; I know your character, and the same feeling +inspires us both. You love your nation, as I do mine. Your nation is +great and cultivated; mine is despised and neglected, and my love is +more bitterly devoted. Your love for your country makes you happy; +mine deprives me of peace. You have taken up arms to defend your +country without knowing your own strength, or the number of the foe; I +have done the same. Either of us may lose, or we may both be blotted +out; but though the arms may be buried in the earth, rust will not eat +them." + +"I do not understand your grievances." + +"You do not understand? Know, then, that although fourteen centuries +have passed since the Roman eagle overthrew Diurbanus, there are still +those among us--the now barbarous people--who can trace their descent +from generation to generation, up to the times of its past glory. We +have still our traditions, if we have nothing more; and can point out +what forest stands in the place of the ancient Sarmisaegethusa, and +what town is built where one Decebalus overthrew the far-famed troops +of the Consulate. And alas for that town! if the graves over which its +houses are built should once more open, and turn the populous streets +into a field of battle! What is become of the nation, the heir of so +much glory?--the proud Dacians, the descendants of the far-famed +legions? I do not reproach any nation for having brought us to what we +now are; but let none reproach me if I desire to restore my people to +what they once were." + +"And do you believe that this is the time?" + +"We have no prophets to point out the hour, but it seems yours do not +see more clearly. We shall attempt it now, and if we fail our +grandchildren will attempt it again. We have nothing to lose but a few +lives; you risk much that is worth losing, and yet you assemble +beneath the banner of war. Then war. Then what would you do if you +were like us?--a people who possess nothing in this world among whom +there is not one able or one instructed head; for although every third +man bears the name of Papa, it is not every hundredth who can read! A +people excluded from every employment; who live a miserable life in +the severest manual labor; who have not one noble city in their +country, the home of three-fourths of their people. Why should we seek +to know the signs of the times in which we are to die, or be +regenerated! We have nothing but our wretchedness, and if we are +conquered we lose nothing. Oh! you did wrong for your own peace to +leave a nation to such utter neglect!" + +"We do not take up arms for our nation alone, but for freedom in +general." + +"You do wrong. It is all the same to us who our sovereign may be; only +let him be just towards us, and raise up our fallen people; but you +will destroy your nation--its power, its influence, and +privileges--merely that you may live in a country without a head." + +A loud uproar interrupted the conversation. A disorderly troop of +Wallachians approached the Decurio's house, triumphantly bearing the +hussar's csako on a pole before them. + +"Had I left you there last night, they would now have exhibited your +head instead of your csako." + +The crowd halted before the Decurio's window, greeting him with loud +vociferations. + +The Decurio spoke a few words in the Wallachian language, on which +they replied more vehemently than before, at the same time thrusting +forward the kalpag on the pole. + +The Decurio turned hastily round. "Was your name written on your +kalpag?" he asked the young man, in evident embarrassment. + +"It was." + +"Unhappy youth! The people, furious at not having found you, are +determined to attack your father's house." + +"And you will permit them?" asked the youth, starting from bed. + +"I dare not contradict them, unless I would lose their confidence. I +can prevent nothing." + +"Give me up--let them wreak their bloody vengeance on my head!" + +"I should only betray myself for having concealed you; and it would +not save your father's house." + +"And if they murder the innocent and unprotected, on whom will the +ignominy of their blood fall?" + +"On me; but I will give you the means of preventing this disgrace. Do +you accept it?" + +"Speak!" + +"I will give you a disguise; hasten to Kolozsvar and assemble your +comrades,--then return and protect your house. I will wait you there, +and man to man, in open honorable combat, the strife will no longer be +ignominious." + +"Thanks, thanks!" murmured the youth, pressing the Decurio's hand. + +"There is not a moment to lose; here is a peasant's mantle--if you +should be interrogated, you have only to show this paszura,[7] and +mention my name. Your not knowing the language is of no consequence; +my men are accustomed to, see Hungarian gentlemen visit me in +disguise, and having only seen you by night, they will not recognize +you." + +Imre hastily took the dress, while Decurio spoke to the people, made +arrangements for the execution of their plans, and pointed out the way +to the castle, promising to follow them immediately. + +"Accept my horse as a remembrance," said the young man, turning to the +Decurio. + +"I accept it, as it would only raise suspicion were you to mount it; +but you may recover it again in the field. Haste, and lose no time! If +you delay you will bring mourning on your own head and disgrace on +mine!" + +In a few minutes the young man, disguised as a Wallachian peasant, was +hastening on foot across the hills of Kolozsvar. + +It was past midnight. + +The inhabitants of the Bardy castle had all retired to rest. + +The iron gate was locked and the windows barred, when suddenly the +sound of demoniac cries roused the slumberers from their dreams. + +"What is that noise?" cried Jozsef Bardy, springing from his bed, and +rushing to the window. + +"The Olahok!"[8] cried a hussar, who had rushed to his master's +apartments on hearing the sounds. + +"The Olah! the Olah!" was echoed through the corridors by the +terrified servants. + +By the light of a few torches, a hideous crowd was seen before the +windows, armed with scythes and axes, which they were brandishing with +fearful menaces. + +"Lock all the doors!" cried Jozsef Bardy, with calm presence of mind. +"Barricade the great entrance, and take the ladies and children to the +back rooms. You must not lose your heads, but all assemble together in +the turret-chamber, from whence the whole building may be protected. +And taking down two good rifles from over his bed, he hastened to his +elder brother Tamas's apartments, and overlooked the court. + +"Have you heard the noise?" asked his brother as he entered. + +"I knew it would come," he replied, and coolly continued to pace the +room. + +"And are you not preparing for defense?" + +"To what purpose?--they will kill us all. I am quite prepared for what +must inevitably happen." + +"But it will not happen if we defend ourselves courageously. We are +eight men--the walls of the castle are strong--the besiegers have no +guns, and no place to protect them; we may hold out for days until +assistance comes from Kolozsvar." + +"We shall lose," replied Tamas coldly, and without the slightest +change of countenance. + +"Then I shall defend the castle myself. I have a wife and children, +our old grandmother and our sisters are here, and I shall protect +them, if I remain alone." + +At that instant Barnabas and old Simon entered with the widowed +sister. + +Barnabas had a huge twenty-pound iron club in his hand; grinding his +teeth, and with eyes darting fire, he seemed capable of meeting +single-handed the whole troop. + +He was followed by the widow, with two loaded pistols in her hand, and +old Simon, who entreated them not to use violence or exasperate the +enemy. + +"Conduct yourselves bravely!" replied the widow dryly; "let us not die +in vain." + +"Come with me--we shall send them all to hell!" cried Barnabas, +swinging his club in his herculean arm as if it had been a reed. + +"Let us not be too hasty," interrupted Jozsef; we will stand here in +the tower, from whence we can shoot every one that approaches, and if +they break in, we can meet them on the stairs." + +"For Heaven's sake!" cried Simon, "what are you going to do? If you +kill one of them they will massacre us all. Speak to them +peaceably--promise them wine--take them to the cellar--give them +money--try to pacify them! Nephew Tamas, you will speak to them?" +continued the old man, turning to Tamas, who still paced up and down, +without the slightest visible emotion. + +"Pacification and resistance are equally vain," he replied coldly; "we +are inevitably lost!" + +"We have no time for delay," said Jozsef impatiently; "take the arms +from the wall, Barnabas, give one to each servant--let them stand at +the back windows of the house, we two are enough here. Sister, stand +between the windows, that the stones may not hit you; and when you +load, do not strike the balls too far in, that our aim may be the more +secure!" + +"No! no!--I cannot let you fire," exclaimed the old man, endeavoring +to drag Jozsef from the window. "You must not fire yet--only remain +quiet." + +"Go to the hurricane, old man! would you have us use holy water +against a shower of stones?" + +At that instant several large stones were dashed through the windows, +breaking the furniture against which they fell. + +"Only wait," said Simon, "until I speak with them. I am sure I shall +pacify them. I can speak their language and I know them all--just let +me go to them." + +"A vain idea! If you sue for mercy they will certainly kill you, but +if you show courage, you may bring them to their senses. You had +better stay and take a gun." + +But the old man was already out of hearing, and hurrying downstairs, +he went out of a back door into the court, which the Wallachians had +not yet taken possession of. + +They were endeavoring to break down one of the stone pillars of the +iron gate with their axes and hammers, and had already succeeded in +making an aperture, through which one of the gang now climbed. + +Old Simon recognized him. "Lupey, my son, what do you want here?" said +the old man. "Have we ever offended you? Do you forget all that I have +done for you?--how I cured your wife when she was so ill, and got you +off from the military; and how, when your ox died, I gave you two fine +bullocks to replace it? Do you not know me, my son Lupey?" + +"I am not your son Lupey now; I am a 'malcontent!'" cried the +Wallachian, aiming a blow with a heavy hammer at the old man's head. + +Uttering a deep groan, Simon fell lifeless to the ground. + +The rest of the party saw the scene from the tower. + +Barnabas rushed from the room like a maddened tiger, while Jozsef, +retiring cautiously behind the embrasure of the window, aimed his gun +as they were placing his uncle's head upon a spike, and shot the first +who raised it. Another seized it, and the next instant he, too, fell +to the earth; another and another, as many as attempted to raise the +head, till, finally, none dared approach. + +The widow loaded the guns while Tamas sat quietly in an armchair. + +Meanwhile Barnabas had hurried to the attic, where several large +fragments of iron had been stowed away, and dragging them to a window +which overlooked the entrance, he waited until the gang had assembled +round the door, and were trying to break in; when lifting an enormous +piece with gigantic strength, he dropped it on the heads of the +besiegers. + +Fearful cries arose and the gang, who were at the door, fled right and +left, leaving four or five of their number crushed beneath the +ponderous mass. + +The next moment they returned with redoubled fury, dashing stones +against the windows and the roof, while the door resounded with the +blows of their clubs. + +Notwithstanding the stones which were flying round him, Barnabas stood +at the window dashing heavy iron masses, and killing two or three men +every time. + +His brother meanwhile continued firing from the tower, and not a ball +was aimed in vain. The besiegers had lost a great number, and began to +fall back, after fruitless efforts to break in the door, when a +footman entered breathless to inform Barnabas that the Wallachians +were beginning to scale the opposite side of the castle with ladders, +and that the servants were unable to resist them. + +Barnabas rushed to the spot. + +Two servants lay mortally wounded in one of the back rooms, through +the windows of which the Wallachians were already beginning to enter, +while another ladder had been placed against the opposite window, +which they were beginning to scale as Barnabas entered. + +"Here, wretches!" he roared furiously, and, seizing the ladder with +both hands, shook it so violently that the men were precipitated from +it, and then lifting it with supernatural strength, he dashed it +against the opposite one, which broke with the force of the weight +thrown against it, the upper part falling backwards with the men upon +it, while one of the party remained hanging from the window-sill, and, +after immense exertions to gain a footing, he too fell to the earth. + +Barnabas rushed into the next room grinding his teeth, his lips +foaming, and his face of a livid hue; so appalling was his appearance; +that one of the gang, who had been the first to enter by the window, +turned pale with terror, and dropped his axe. + +Taking advantage of this, Barnabas darted on his enemy, and dragging +him with irresistible force to the window, he dashed him from it. + +"On here! as many as you are!" he shouted furiously, the blood gushing +from his mouth from the blow of a stone. "On! all who wish a fearful +death!" + +At that instant, a shriek of terror rose within the house. + +The Wallachians had discovered the little back door which Simon had +left open, and, stealing through it, were already inside the house, +when the shrieks of a servant girl gave the besieged notice of their +danger. + +Barnabas, seizing his club, hurried in the direction of the sounds; he +met his brother on the stairs, who had likewise heard the cry, and +hastened thither with his gun in his hand, accompanied by the widow. + +"Go, sister!" said Jozsef, "take my wife and children to the attics; +we will try to guard the staircase step by step. Kiss them all for me. +If we die, the villains will put us all in one grave--we shall meet +again!" + +The widow retired. + +The two brothers silently pressed hands, and then, standing on the +steps, awaited their enemies. They did not wait long. + +The bloodhounds with shouts of vengeance rushed on the narrow stone +stairs. + +"Hah! thus near I love to have you, dogs of hell!" cried Barnabas, +raising his iron club with both hands, and dealing such blows right +and left, that none whom it reached rose again. The stairs were +covered with the dead and wounded, while their death cries, and the +sound of the heavy club, echoed fearfully through the vaulted +building. + +The foremost of the gang retreated as precipitately as they had +advanced, but were continually pressed forward again by the members +from behind, while Barnabas drove them back unweariedly, cutting an +opening through them with the blows of his club. + +He had already beaten them back nearly to the bottom of the stairs, +when one of the gang, who had concealed himself in a niche, pierced +him through the back with a spike. + +Dashing his club amongst the retreating crowd, he turned with a cry of +rage, and seizing his murderer by the shoulders, dragged him down with +him to the ground. + +The first four who rushed to help the murderer were shot dead by +Jozsef Bardy, who, when he had fired off both his muskets, still +defended his prostrated brother with the butt-end of one, until he was +overpowered and disarmed; after which a party of them carried him out +to the iron cross, and crucified him on it amidst the most shocking +tortures. + +On trying to separate the other brother from his murderer, they found +them both dead. With his last strength Barnabas had choked his enemy, +whom he still held firmly in his deadly grip, and they were obliged to +cut off his hand in order to disengage the Wallachian's body. + +Tamas, the eldest brother, now alone survived. Seated in his armchair +he calmly awaited his enemies, with a large silver chandelier burning +on the table before him. + +As the noise approached his chamber, he drew from its jeweled sheath +his broad curved sword, and, placing it on the table before him, +proceeded coolly to examine the ancient blade, which was inscribed +with unknown characters. + +At last the steps were at the door; the handle was turned--it had not +even been locked. + +The magnate rose, and, taking his sword from the table, he stood +silently and calmly before the enemies, who rushed upon him with +fearful oaths, brandishing their weapons still reeking with the blood +of his brothers. + +The nobleman stood motionless as a statue until they came within two +paces of him, when suddenly the bright black steel gleamed above his +head, and the foremost man fell at his feet with his skull split to +the chin. The next received a deep gash in the shoulder of his +outstretched arm, but not a word escaped the magnate's lips, his +countenance retained its cold and stern expression as he looked at his +enemies in calm disdain, as if to say, "Even in combat a nobleman is +worth ten boors." + +Warding off with the skill of a professed swordsman every blow aimed +at him, he coolly measured his own thrusts, inflicting severe wounds +on his enemies' faces and heads; but the more he evaded them the more +furious they became. At last he received a severe wound in the leg +from a scythe, and feel on one knee; but without evincing the +slightest pain, he still continued fighting with the savage mob, +until, after a long and obstinate struggle, he fell without a murmur, +or even a death-groan. + +The enraged gang cut his body to pieces, and in a few minutes they had +hoisted his head on his own sword. Even then the features retained +their haughty, contemptuous expression. + +He was the last man of the family with whom they had to combat, but +more than a hundred of their own band lay stretched in the court and +before the windows, covering the stairs and rooms with heaps of +bodies, and when the shouts of triumph ceased for an instant, the +groans of the wounded and the dying were heard from every side. + +None now remained but women and children. When the Wallachians broke +into the castle, the widow had taken them all to the attics, leaving +the door open, that her brothers might find refuge in case they were +forced to retreat; and here the weaker members of the family awaited +the issue of the combat which was to bring them life or death, +listening breathlessly to the uproar, and endeavoring, from its +confused sounds, to determine good or evil. + +At last the voices died away, and the hideous cries of the besiegers +ceased. The trembling women believed that the Wallachians had been +driven out, and, breathing more freely, each awaited with impatience +the approach of brother--husband--sons. + +At last a heavy step was heard on the stairs leading to the garret. + +"This is Barnabas's step!" cried the widow, joyfully, and still +holding the pistols in her hand, she ran to the door of the garret. + +Instead of her expected brother, a savage form, drunken with blood, +strode towards her, his countenance burning with rage and triumph. + +The widow started back, uttering a shriek of terror, and then with +that unaccountable courage of desperation, she aimed one of the +pistols at the Wallachian's breast, who instantly fell backwards on +one of his comrades, who followed close behind. The other pistol she +discharged into her own bosom. + +And now we must draw a veil over the scene that followed. What +happened there must not be witnessed by human eyes. + +Suffice it to say, they murdered every one, women and children, with +the most refined and brutal cruelty, and then threw their dead bodies +out of the window from which Barnabas had dashed down the iron +fragments on the besiegers' heads. + +They left the old grandmother to the last, that she might witness the +extermination of her whole family. Happily for her, her eyes had +ceased to distinguish the light of sun, and ere long the light of an +eternal glory had risen upon them. + +The Wallachians then dug a common grave for the bodies, and threw them +all in together. The little one, whom his parents loved so well, they +cast in alive, his nurse having escaped from the attics and carried +him downstairs, where they had been overtaken by the savages. + +"There are only eleven here!" cried one of the gang, who had counted +the bodies, "one of them must be still alive somewhere--there ought to +be twelve!" And then they once more rushed through the empty rooms, +overturning all the furniture, and cutting up and breaking everything +they met with. They searched the garrets and every corner of the +cellars, but without success. + +At last a yell of triumph was heard. One of them had discovered a door +which, being painted of the same color as the walls, had hitherto +escaped their observation. It concealed a small apartment in the +turret. With a few blows of their axes it was broken open, and they +rushed in. + +"Ah! a rare booty!" cried the foremost of the ruffians, while, with +bloodthirsty curiosity, the others pressed round to see the new +victim. + +There lay the little orphan with the golden hair; her eyes were closed +and a death-like hue had overspread her beautiful features. + +Her aunt; with an instinctive foreboding, had concealed her here when +she took the others to the attic. + +The orphan grasped a sharp knife in her hand, with which she had +attempted to kill herself; and when her fainting hands refused the +fearful service, she had swooned in despair. + +"Ah!" cried the Wallachians, in savage admiration, their bloodthirsty +countenances assuming a still more hellish expression. + +"This is a common booty!" cried several voices together. + +"A beautiful girl! A noble lady! ha, ha! She will just suit the +tattered Wallachians!" And with their foul and bloody hands, they +seized the young girl by her fair slight arms. + +"Ha! what is going on here?" thundered a voice from behind. + +The Wallachians looked round. + +A figure stood among them fully a head taller than all the rest. He +wore a brass helmet, in which a deep cleft was visible, and held in +his left hand a Roman sword. His features bore the ancient Roman +character. + +"The Decurio!" they murmured, making way for him. + +"What is going on here?" he repeated; and seizing the fainting girl in +the arms of a Wallachian, he ordered him to lay her down. + +"She is one of our enemies," replied the savage insolently. + +"Silence, knave! Does one of the Roumin nation seek enemies in women? +Lay her down instantly." + +"Not so, leader," interrupted Lupey; "our laws entitle us to a +division of the spoil. This girl is our booty; she belongs to us after +the victory." + +"I know our laws better than you do, churl! Due division of spoil is +just and fair; but we cast lots for what cannot be divided." + +"True, leader: a horse or an ox cannot be divided, and for them we +cast lots, but in this case--" + +"I have said it cannot, and I should like to know who dares to say it +can!" + +Lupey knew the Decurio too well to proffer another syllable, and the +rest turned silently from the girl; one voice alone was heard to +exclaim, "It can!" + +"Who dares to say that?" cried the Decurio; "let him come forward!" + +A young Wallachian, with long plaited hair, confronted the Decurio. He +was evidently intoxicated, and replied, striking his breast with his +fist: "I said so." + +Scarcely had the words escaped his lips, than the Decurio, raising his +left hand, severed the contradictor's head at one stroke from his +body; and as it fell back, the lifeless trunk dropped on its knees +before the Decurio, with its arms around him, as if in supplication. + +"Dare anyone still say it can?" asked Numa, with merciless rigor. + +The Wallachians turned silently away. + +"Put the horses immediately to the carriage; the girl must be placed +in it, and brought to Topanfalvo. Whoever has the good fortune of +winning her, has a right to receive her as I confide her to you; but +if anyone of you should dare to offend her in the slightest degree, +even by a look or a smile, remember this and take example from it," +continued the Decurio, pointing with his sword to the headless body of +the young man. "And now you may go--destroy and pillage." + +At these words the band scattered right and left, the Decurio with the +fainting girl, whom he lifted into the carriage and confided to some +faithful retainers cf the family, pointing out the road across the +hills. + +In half an hour the castle was in flames and the Wallachians, +descending into the cellars, had knocked out the bottoms of the casks, +and bathed in the sea of flowing wine and brandy, singing wild songs, +while the fire burst from every window enveloping the blackened walls; +after which the revelers departed, leaving their dead, and those who +were too helplessly intoxicated to follow them. + +Meanwhile they brought the young girl to the Decurio's house, and as +each man considered that he had an equal right to the prize, they kept +a vigilant eye upon her, and none dared offend her so much as by a +look. + +When the Decurio arrived, they all crowded into the house with him, +filling the rooms, as well as the entrance and porch. + +Having laid out the spoil before them on the ground, the leader +proceeded to divide it into equal shares, retaining for himself a +portion of ten men, after which most of the band dispersed to their +homes; but a good many remained, greedily eyeing their still +unappropriated victim, who lay pale and motionless as the dead on the +couch of lime-boughs where they had laid her. + +"You are waiting, I suppose, to cast lots for the girl?" said Numa +dryly. + +"Certainly," replied Lupey, with an insolent leer; "and his she will +be who casts highest. If two, or ten, or twenty of us should cast the +same, we have an equal right to her." + +"I tell you only one can have her," interrupted Numa sternly. + +"Then those who win must cast again among each other." + +"Casting the die will not do; we may throw all day long, and two may +remain at the end." + +"Well, let us play cards for her." + +"I cannot allow that, the more cunning will deceive the simpler." + +"Well, write our names upon bricks, and throw them all into a barrel; +and whichever name you draw will take away the girl." + +"I can say what name I please, for none of you can read." + +The Wallachian shook his head impatiently. + +"Well, propose something yourself, Decurio." + +"I will. Let us try which of us can give the best proof of courage and +daring; and whoever can do that, shall have the girl, for he best +deserves her." + +"Well said!" cried the men unanimously. "Let us each relate what we +have done, and then you can judge which among us is the boldest." + +"I killed the first Bardy in the court in sight of his family." + +"I broke in the door, when that terrible man was dashing down the iron +on our heads." + +"But it was I who pierced his heart." + +"I mounted the stairs first." + +"I fought nearly half an hour with the noble in the cloth of gold." + +And thus they continued. Each man, according to his own account, was +the first and the bravest--each had performed miracles of valor. + +"You have all behaved with great daring, but it is impossible now to +prove what has happened. The proof must be given here, by all of us +together, before my eyes, indisputably." + +"Well, tell us how," said Lupey impatiently, always fearing that the +Decurio was going to deceive them. + +"Look here," said Numa, drawing a small cask from beneath the bed--and +in doing so he observed that the young girl half opened her eyes, as +she glanced at him, and then closed them. She was awake, and had heard +all. + +As he stooped down, Numa whispered gently in her ear: "Fear nothing," +and then drew the cask into the middle of the room. + +The Wallachians stared with impatient curiosity as he knocked out the +bottom of the cask with a hatchet. + +"This cask contains gunpowder," continued Decurio. "We will light a +match and place it in the middle of the cask, and whoever remains +longest in the room is undoubtedly the most courageous; for there is +enough here to blow up not only this house, but the whole of the +neighboring village." + +At this proposition several of the men began to murmur. + +"If any are afraid they are not obliged to remain," said the Decurio +dryly. + +"I agree," said Lupey doggedly. "I will remain here; and perhaps, +after all, it is poppy-seeds you have got there--it looks very much +like them." + +The Decurio stooped down, and taking a small quantity between his +fingers, threw it into the Wallachian's pipe, which immediately +exploded, causing him to stagger backwards, and the next instant he +stood with a blackened visage, sans beard and moustache, amidst the +jeers and laughter of his comrades. + +This only exasperated him the more. + +"I will stay for all that!" he exclaimed; and lifting up the pipe +which he had dropped, he walked over and lit it at the burning match +which the Decurio was placing in the cask. + +Upon this, two-thirds of the men left the room. + +The rest assembled around the cask with much noise and bravado, +swearing by heaven and earth that they would stay until the match +burned out; but the more they swore, the more they looked at the +burning match, the flame of which was slowly approaching the +gunpowder. + +For some minutes their courage remained unshaken, but after that they +ceased to boast, and began to look at each other in silent +consternation, while their faces grew paler every instant. At last one +or two rose and stood aloof; the others followed their example, and +some grinding their teeth with rage, others chattering with terror, +they all began to leave the room. + +Only two remained beside the cask; Numa, who stood with his arms +folded leaning against the foot of the bed; and Lupey, who was sitting +on the iron of the cask with his back turned to the danger, and +smoking furiously. + +As soon as they were alone, the latter glanced behind him and saw the +flame was within an inch of the powder. + +"I'll tell you what, Decurio," he said, springing up, "we are only two +left, don't let us make food of each other; let us come to an +understanding on this matter." + +"If you are tired of waiting, I can press the match lower." + +"This is no jest, Numa; you are risking your own life. How can you +wish to send us both to hell for the sake of a pale girl? But I'll +tell you what--I'll give her up to you if you will only promise that +she shall be mine when you are tired of her." + +"Remain here and win her--if you dare." + +"To what purpose?" said the Wallachian, in a whining voice, and in his +impatience he began to tear his clothes and stamp with his feet, like +a petted child. + +"What I have said stands good," said the Decurio; "whoever remains +longest has the sole right to the lady." + +"Well, I will stay, of course; but what do I gain by it? I know you +will stay, too, and then the devil will have us both; and I speak not +only for myself when I say I do not wish that." + +"If you do not wish it, you had better be gone." + +"Well, I don't care--if you will give me a golden mark." + +"Not the half; stay if you like it." + +"Decurio, this is madness! The flame will reach the powder +immediately." + +"I see it." + +"Well, say a dollar." + +"Not a whit." + +"May the seventy-seven limited thunder-bolt strike you on St. +Michael's Day!" roared the Wallachian fiercely, as he rushed to the +door; but after he had gone out, he once more thrust his head in and +cried: "Will you give even a florin? I am not gone yet." + +"Nor have I removed the match; you may come back." The Wallachian +slammed the door, and ran for his life, till exhausted and breathless +he sank under a tree, where he lay with his tunic over his head, and +his ears covered with his hands, only now and then raising his head +nervously, to listen for the awful explosion which was to blow up the +world. + +Meanwhile Numa coolly removed the match, which was entirely burnt +down; and throwing it into the grate, he stepped over to the bed and +whispered into the young girl's ear: "You are free!" + +Trembling, she raised herself in the bed and taking the Decurio's +large, sinewy hands within her own, she murmured: "Be merciful! O hear +my prayer, and kill me!" + +The Decurio stroked the fair hair of the lovely suppliant. + +"Poor child!" he replied gently; "you have nothing to fear; nobody +will hurt you now." + +"You have saved me from these fearful people--now save me from +yourself!" + +"You have nothing to fear from me," replied the Dacian, proudly; "I +fight for liberty alone, and you may rest as securely within my +threshold as on the steps of the altar. When I am absent you need have +no anxiety, for these walls are impregnable, and if anyone should dare +offend you by the slightest look, that moment shall be the last of his +mortal career. And when I am at home you have nothing to fear, for +woman's image never dwelt within my heart. Accept my poor couch, and +may your rest be sweet!--Imre Bardy slept on it last night." + +"Imre!" exclaimed the starting girl. "You have seen him, then?--oh! +where is he!" + +The Decurio hesitated. "He should not have delayed so long," he +murmured, pressing his hand against his brow; "all would have been +otherwise." + +"Oh! let me go to him; if you know where he is." + +"I do not know, but I am certain he will come here if he is +alive--indeed he must come." + +"Why do you think that?" + +"Because he will seek you." + +"Did he then speak--before you?" + +"As he lay wounded on that couch, he pronounced your name in his +dreams. Are you not that Jolanka Bardy whom they call 'The Angel'? I +knew you by your golden locks." + +The young girl cast down her eyes. "Then you think he will come?" she +said in a low voice. "And my relations?" + +"He will come as soon as possible; and now you must take some food and +rest. Do not think about your relations now; they are all in a safe +place--nobody can hurt them more." + +The Decurio brought some refreshment, laid a small prayer-book on the +pillow, and left the orphan by herself. + +The poor girl opened the prayer-book, and her tears fell like +rain-drops on the blessed page; but, overcome by the fatigue and +terror she had undergone, her head ere long sank gently back, and she +slept calmly and sweetly the sleep of exhausted innocence. + +As evening closed, the Decurio returned, and softly approaching the +bed, looked long and earnestly at the fair sleeper's face, until two +large tears stood unconsciously in his eyes. + +The Roumin hastily brushed away the unwonted moisture, and as if +afraid of the feeling which had stolen into his breast, he hastened +from the room, and laid himself upon his woolen rug before the open +door. + +The deserted castle still burned on, shedding a ghastly light on the +surrounding landscape, while the deepest silence reigned around, only +broken now and then by an expiring groan, or the hoarse song of a +drunken reveler. + +Day was beginning to dawn as a troop of horsemen galloped furiously +towards the castle from the direction of Kolozsvar. + +They were Imre and his comrades. + +Silently and anxiously they pursued their course, their eyes fixed +upon one point, as they seemed to fly rather than gallop along the +road. "We are too late!" exclaimed one of the party at last, pointing +to a dim red smoke along the horizon. "Your castle is burning!" + +Without returning an answer, Imre spurred his panting horse to a +swifter pace. A turn in the road suddenly brought the castle to their +view, its blackened walls still burning, while red smoke rose high +against the side of the hill. + +The young man uttered a fierce cry of despair, and galloped madly down +the declivity. In less than a quarter of an hour he stood before the +ruined walls. + +"Where is my father? where are my family? where is my bride?" he +shrieked in frantic despair, brandishing his sword over the head of a +half-drunken Wallachian, who was leaning against the ruined portico. + +The latter fell to his knees, imploring mercy, and declaring that it +was not he who killed them. + +"Then they are dead!" exclaimed the unhappy youth, as, half-choked by +his sobs, he fell forward on his horse's neck. + +Meanwhile his companions had ridden up, and immediately sounded the +Wallachian, whom, but for Imre's interference, they would have cut +down. + +"Lead us to where you have buried them. Are they all dead?" he +continued; "have you not left one alive? Accursed be the sun that +rises after such a night!" + +The Wallachian pointed to a large heap of fresh-raised mould. "They +are all there!" he said. + +Imre fell from his horse without another word, as if struck down. + +His companions removed him to a little distance, where the grass was +least red. + +They then began to dig twelve graves with their swords. + +Imre watched them in silence. He seemed unconscious what they were +about. + +When they had finished the graves they proceeded to open the large +pit, but the sight was too horrible, and they carried Imre away by +force. He could not have looked on what was there and still retain his +senses. + +In a short time, one of his comrades approached and told him that +there were only eleven bodies in the grave. + +"Then one of them must be alive!" cried Imre, a slight gleam of hope +passing over his pale features; "which is it?--speak! Is there not a +young girl with golden locks among them?" + +"I know not," stammered his comrade, in great embarrassment. + +"You do not know?--go and look again." His friend hesitated. + +"Let me go--I must know," said Imre impatiently, as the young man +endeavored to detain him. + +"O stay, Imre, you cannot look on them; they are all headless!" + +"My God!" exclaimed the young man, covering his face with both hands, +and, bursting into tears he threw himself down with his face upon the +earth. + +His comrades questioned the Wallachian closely as to what he knew +about the young girl. First he returned no answer, pretending to be +drunk and not to understand: + +But on their promising to spare his life, on the sole condition that +he would speak the truth, he confessed that she had been carried away +to the mountains, where the band were to cast lots for her. + +"I must go!" said Imre, starting as if in a trance. + +"Whither?" inquired his comrades. + +"To seek her! Take off your dress," he continued, turning to the +Wallachian, "you may have mine in exchange," and, hastily putting on +the tunic, he concealed his pistols in the girdle beneath it. + +"We will follow you," said his comrades, taking up their arms; "we +will seek her from village to village." + +"No, no, I must go alone! I shall find her more easily alone. If I do +not return, avenge this for me," he said, pointing to the moat; then, +turning to the Wallachian, he added sternly: "I have found beneath +your girdle a gold medallion, which my grandmother wore suspended from +her neck, and by which I know you to be one of her murderers, and, had +I not promised to spare your life, you should now receive the +punishment that you deserve. Keep him here," he said to his comrades, +"until I have crossed the hills, and then let him go." + +And taking leave of his friends, he cast one glance at the eleven +heaps, and at the burning castle of his ancestors, and hastened toward +the mountains. + +The hoary autumn nights had dyed the leaves of the forest. The whole +country looked as if it had been washed in blood. + +Deep amidst the wildest forest the path suddenly descends into a +narrow valley, surrounded by steep rocks at the foot of which lies a +little village half concealed among the trees. + +It seemed as if the settlers there had only cleared sufficient ground +to build their dwellings, leaving all the rest a dense forest. Apart +from the rest, on the top of a rock, stood a cottage, which, unlike +others, was constructed entirely of large blocks of stone, and only +approachable by a small path cut in the rock. + +A young man ascended this path. He was attired in a peasant's garb and +although he evidently had traveled far, his step was light and fleet. +When he had ascended about halfway, he was suddenly stopped by an +armed Wallachian, who had been kneeling before a shrine in the rock, +and seeing the stranger, rose and stood in his path. + +The latter pronounced the Decurio's name, and produced his paszura. + +The Wallachian examined it on every side, and then stepped back to let +the stranger pass, after which he once more laid down his scythe and +cap, and knelt before the shrine. + +The stranger knocked at the Decurio's door, which was locked, and an +armed Wallachian appeared from behind the rocks, and informed him that +the Decurio was not at home, only his wife. + +"His wife?" exclaimed the stranger in surprise. + +"Yes, that pale girl who fell to him by lot." + +"And she is his wife." + +"He told us so himself, and swore that if any of us dared so much as +lift his eye upon her, he would send him to St. Nicholas in paradise." + +"Can I not see her?" + +"I would not advise you; for if the Decurio hears of it, he will make +halves of you; but you may go around to the window if you like--only +let me get out of the way first, that the Decurio may not find me +here." + +The stranger hastened to the window, and looking in, he saw the young +girl seated on an armchair made of rough birch boughs, with a little +prayer-book on her knee; her fair arm supporting her head, while a +mass of golden ringlets half veiled her face, which was as pale as an +alabaster statue; the extreme sadness of its expression rendering her +beauty still more touching. + +"Jolanka!" exclaimed the stranger passionately. + +She started at the well-known voice, and, uttering a cry of joy, +rushed to the window. + +"Oh, Imre!" she murmured, "are you come at last!" + +"Can I not enter? can I not speak with you?" + +The young girl hastened to unbar the door, which was locked on the +inside, and as Imre entered she threw herself into his arms, while he +pressed her fondly to his heart. + +The Wallachian, who had stolen to the window, stood aghast with terror +and, soon as the Decurio arrived, he ran to meet him, and related, +with vehement gesticulations, how the girl had thrown herself into the +peasant's arms. + +"And how did you know that?" asked Numa coldly. + +"I saw them through the window." + +"And dared you look through my window? Did I not forbid you? Down on +your knees, and pray!" + +The Wallachian fell on his knees, and clasped his hands. + +"Rebel! you deserve your punishment of death for having disobeyed my +commands; and if you ever dare to open your lips on the subject, +depend upon it, you shall not escape!" And with these words he strode +away, leaving the astonished informer on his knees, in which posture +he remained for some time afterwards, not daring to raise his head +until the Decurio's steps had died away. + +As Numa entered the house, the lovers hastened to meet him. For an +instant or two he stood at the threshold, regarding the young man with +a look of silent reproach. "Why did you come so late?" he asked. + +Imre held out his hand, but the Decurio did not accept it. + +"The blood of your family is on my hand," he whispered. "You have let +dishonor come on me, and mourning on yourself." + +The young man's head sunk on his breast in silent anguish. + +"Take his hand," said Jolanka, in her low, sweet accents; and then +turning to Imre, "He saved your life--he saved us both, and he will +rescue our family, too." + +Imre looked at her in astonishment. + +The Decurio seized his arms and drew him aside. "She does not know +that they are dead," he whispered; "she was not with them, and knows +nothing of their fate; and I have consoled her with the idea that they +are all prisoners, she must never know the horrors of that fearful +night." + +"But sooner or later she will hear it." + +"Never! you must leave the place and the kingdom. You must go to +Turkey." + +"My way lies towards Hungary." + +"You must not think of it. Evil days await that country; your prophets +do not see them, but I know, and see them clearly. Go to Turkey; I +will give you letters by which you may pass in security through +Wallachia and Moldavia; and here is a purse of gold--do not scruple to +accept it, for it is your own, it belonged to _them_. Promise me, for +her sake," he continued earnestly, pointing to Jolanka, "that you will +not go to Hungary." + +Imre hesitated. "I cannot promise what I am not sure I shall fulfill; +but I shall remember your advice." + +Numa took the hands of the two lovers, and, gazing long and earnestly +on their faces, he said, in a voice of deep feeling, "You love one +another?" + +They pressed his hand in silence. + +"You will be happy--you will forget your misfortunes. God bless and +guide you on your way! Take these letters, and keep the direct road to +Brasso,[9] by the Saxon-land.[10] You will find free passage +everywhere, and never look behind until the last pinnacles of the +snowy mountains are beyond your sight. Go! we will not take leave, not +a word, let us forget each other!" + +The Decurio watched the lovers until they were out of sight; and +called to them, even when they could hear him no longer: "Do not go +towards Hungary." + +He then entered his house. The prayer-book lay open as the young girl +had left it; the page was still damp with her tears. Numa's hand +trembled, as he kissed the volume fervently and placed it in his +bosom. + +When night came on, the Roumin lay down on his wolf-skin couch, where +the golden-haired maiden, and her lover before her, had slept, but it +seemed as if they had stolen his rest--he could not close his eyes +there, so he rose and went out on the porch, where he spread his rug +before the open door; but it was long ere he could sleep--there was an +unwonted feeling at his heart, something like happiness, yet +inexpressibly sad; and, buried in deep reverie, he lay with his eyes +fixed on the dark blue starry vault above him till past midnight. +Suddenly he thought he heard the report of some fire-arms at a great +distance, and at the same moment two stars sank beneath the horizon. +Numa thought of the travelers, and a voice seemed to whisper, "They +are now happy!" + +The moon had risen high in the heavens, when the Decurio was roused +from his sleep by heavy footsteps, and five or six Wallachians, among +whom was Lupey, stood before him. + +"We have brought two enemies' heads," said the latter, with a dark +look at the Decurio; "pay us their worth!" and taking two heads from +his pouch he laid them on Numa's mat. + +The Wallachians watched their leader's countenance with sharp, +suspicious glances. + +Numa recognized the two heads by the light of the moon. They were +those of Imre and Jolanka, but his features did not betray the +slightest emotion. + +"You will know them probably," continued Lupey. "The young magnate, +who escaped us at the pass, came for the girl in your absence, and at +the same time stole your money, and, what is more, we found your +paszura upon him also." + +"Who killed them?" asked the Decurio, in his usual calm voice. + +"None of us," replied the Wallachian; "as we rushed upon them, the +young magnate drew two pistols from his girdle, and shot the girl +through the head first, and himself afterwards." + +"Were you all there?" + +"And more of us besides." + +"Go back and bring the rest. I will divide the money you have found on +them among you. Make haste; and should one of you remain behind, his +share will be divided among the rest." + +The Wallachians hastened to seek their comrades with cries of joy. + +The Decurio then locked the door, and, throwing himself upon the +ground beside the two heads, he kissed them a hundred times, and +sobbed like a child. + +"I warned you not to go toward Hungary!" he said bitterly. "Why did +you not hear me, unhappy children? why did you not take my word?" and +he wept over his enemies' heads as if he had been their father. + +He then rose, his eyes darting fire, and, shaking his terrible fist, +he cried, in a voice hoarse with rage: "Czine mintye!"[11] + +In a few hours, the Wallachians had assembled before the Decurio's +house. They were about fifty or sixty, all wild, fearful-looking men. + +Numa covered the two heads with a cloth, and laid them on the bed, +after which he opened the door. + +Lupey entered last. + +"Lock the door," said Numa, when they were all in; "we must not be +interrupted;" and, making them stand in a circle, he looked around at +them all, one by one. + +"Are you all here?" he asked at last. + +"Not one is absent." + +"Do you consider yourselves all equally deserving of sharing _the +booty_?" + +"All of us." + +"It was you," he continued to Lupey, "who struck down the old man?" + +"It was." + +"And you who pierced the magnate with a spike?" + +"You are right, leader." + +"And you really killed all the women in the castle?" turning to a +third. + +"With my own hand." + +"And one and all of you can boast of having massacred, and plundered, +and set on fire?" + +"All! all!" they cried, striking their breasts. + +"Do not lie before Heaven. See! your wives are listening at the window +to what you say, and will betray you if you do not speak the truth." + +"We speak the truth!" + +"It is well!" said the leader, as he calmly approached the bed; and, +seating himself on it, uncovered the two heads and placed them on his +knee. "Where did you put their bodies?" he asked. + +"We cut them in pieces and strewed them on the highroad." + +There was a short silence. Numa's breathing became more and more +oppressed, and his large chest heaved convulsively. "Have you prayed +yet?" he asked in an altered voice. + +"Not yet, leader. What should we pray for?" said Lupey. + +"Fall down on your knees and pray, for this is the last morning which +will dawn on any of you again." + +"Are you in your senses, leader? What are you going to do?" + +"I am going to purge the Roumin nation of a set of ruthless murderers +and brigands. Miserable wretches; instead of glory, you have brought +dishonor and disgrace upon our arms wherever you have appeared. While +the brave fought on the field of battle, you slaughtered their wives +and children; while they risked their lives before the cannon's mouth +you attacked the house of the sleepers and robbed and massacred the +helpless and the innocent. Fall down on your knees and pray for your +souls, for the angel of death stands over you, to blot out your memory +from among the Roumin people!" + +The last words were pronounced in a fearful tone. Numa was no longer +the cold unmoved statue he had hitherto appeared, he was like a fiery +genius of wrath, whose very breath was destruction. + +The Wallachians fell upon their knees in silent awe, while the women +who had been standing outside, rushed shrieking down the rocks. + +The Decurio drew a pistol from his breast, and approached the cask of +gunpowder. + +With a fearful howl, they rushed upon him; the shriek of despair was +heard for an instant, then the terrible explosion which caused the +rocks to tremble, while the flames rose with a momentary flash amidst +clouds of dust and smoke, scaring the beasts of the forest, and +scattering stones and beams, and hundreds of dismembered limbs, far +through the valley, and over the houses of the terrified inhabitants! + +When the smoke had dissipated, a heap of ruins stood in the place of +Numa's dwelling. + +The sun rose and smiled upon the earth, which was strewed with the +last leaves of autumn, but where were those who had assembled at the +spring-time of the year? + +The evening breezes whispered mournfully through the ruined walls, and +strewed the faded leaves upon eleven grassy mounds. + +The pen trembles in my hand--my heart sickens at the recital of such +misery. + +Would that I could believe it an imagination--the ghostly horror of a +fevered brain! + +Would that I could bid my gentle readers check the falling tear or +tell them: "Start not with horror; it is but romance--the creation of +some fearful dream--let us awake and see it no more!" + +FOOTNOTES TO _THIRTEEN AT TABLE_: + +[1: There is a race of the Hungarians in the Carpath who, unlike the +Hungarians of the plain, have blue eyes and often fair hair.] + +[2: Part of the free corps raised in 1848.] + +[3: Blue and gold are the colors of Transylvania.] + +[4: Transylvania.] + +[5: Klausenburg.] + +[6: The Wallachians were, in the days of Trajan, subdued by the +Romans, with whom they became intermixed, and are also called Roumi.] + +[7: Everything on which a double-headed eagle--the emblem of the +Austrian Government--was painted, engraved or sculptured, the +Wallachians called paszura.] + +[8: Olah, Wallachian--ok, plural.] + +[9: Brasso, or Kyonstadt, a town in the southeast of Transylvania, on +the frontier of Wallachia.] + +[10: A district inhabited by a colony of Saxons.] + +[11: Czine mintye!--A Wallachian term signifying revenge.] + + + +ETIENNE BARSONY + + +_THE DANCING BEAR_ + + +Fife and drum were heard from the big market-place. + +People went running towards it. In a village the slightest unusual +bustle makes a riot. Everybody is curious to know the cause of the +alarm, and whether the wheels of the world are running out of their +orbit. In the middle of the great dusty market-place some stunted +locust trees were hanging their faint, dried foliage, and from far off +one could already see that underneath these miserable trees a tall, +handsome, young man and a huge, plump dark-brown, growling bear were +hugging each other. + +Joco, the bear-leader, was giving a performance. His voice rang like a +bugle-horn, and, singing his melancholy songs, he from time to time +interrupted himself and hurrahed, whereupon the bear began to spring +and roar angrily. The two stamped their feet, holding close together, +like two tipsy comrades. But the iron-weighted stick in the young +man's hand made it evident that the gigantic beast was quite capable +of causing trouble, and was only restrained from doing so because it +had learnt from experience that the least outbreak never failed to +bring down vengeance upon its back. The bear was a very powerful +specimen from Bosnia, with thick brown fur and a head as broad as a +bull's. When he lifted himself up on his hind legs he was half a head +taller than Joco, his master. + +The villagers stood round them with anxious delight, and animated the +bear with shouts of "Jump, Ibrahim! Hop, Ibrahim!" but nobody ventured +to go near. Joco was no stranger to these people. After every harvest +he visited the rich villages of Banat with his bear. They knew that he +was a native of the frontier of Slavonia, and they were not +particularly keen to know anything else about him. A man who leads +such a vagrant life does not stay long in any one place, and has +neither friends nor foes anywhere. They supposed that he spent part of +the year in Bosnia, perhaps the winter, visiting, one after the other, +the Servian monasteries. Now, in midsummer, when he was least to be +expected, they suddenly hear his fife and drum. + +Ibrahim, the big old bear, roused the whole village in less than a +quarter of an hour with his far-reaching growls. The dogs crouched +horror-struck, their hair standing on end, barking at him in fear and +trembling. + +When Joco stopped at some street corner, or in the market-place, and +began to beat his rattling drum, the bear lifted himself with heavy +groans on his hind legs, and then the great play began, the cruel +amusement, the uncanny, fearful embracings which one could never be +sure would not end fatally. For Joco is not satisfied to let Ibrahim +jump and dance, but, whistling and singing, grasps the wild beast's +skin, and squeezes his paws; and so the two dance together, the one +roaring and groaning, the other singing with monotonous voice a +melancholy song. + +The company of soldiers stationed in the village was just returning +from drill, and Captain Winter, Ritter von Wallishausen, turned in +curiosity his horse's head towards the crowd, and made a sign to +Lieutenant Vig to lead the men on. His fiery half-blood Graditz horse +snuffed the disgusting odor of the wild beast, and would go no nearer. + +The Captain called a hussar from the last line that passed him, and +confided the stubborn horse to his charge. Then he bent his steps +towards the swaying crowd. The villagers opened out a way for him, and +soon the Captain stood close behind the bear-leader. But before he +could fix his eyes on Ibrahim they were taken captive by something +else. + +A few steps away from Joco a young girl sat upon the ground, gently +stroking a light-colored little bear. They were both so huddled up +together that the villagers scarcely noticed them, and the Captain was +therefore all the better able to observe the young woman, who appeared +to be withdrawing herself as much as possible from public gaze. And +really she seemed to be an admirable young creature. She was slight of +build, perhaps not yet fully developed, with the early ripeness of the +Eastern beauty expressed in face and figure--a black cherry, at sight +of which the mouth of such a gourmand as the Ritter von Wallishausen +would naturally water! Her fine face seemed meant only to be the +setting of her two black eyes. She wore a shirt of coarse linen, a +frock of many-colored material, and a belt around her waist. Her +beautifully formed bosom, covered only by the shirt, rose and fell in +goddesslike shamelessness. A string of glass beads hung round her +neck, and two long earrings tapped her cheeks at every movement. She +made no effort to hide her bare feet, but now and then put back her +untidy but beautiful black hair from her forehead and eyes; for it was +so thick that if she did not do so she could not see. + +The girl felt that the Captain's fiery gaze was meant for her and not +for the little bear. She became embarrassed, and instinctively turned +her head away. Just at this moment Joco turned round with Ibrahim. The +tall Servian peasant let the whistle fall from his hand, and the wild +dance came to an end. Ibrahim understood that the performance was +over, and, putting down his front paws on the ground, licked, as he +panted, the strong iron bars of his muzzle. + +The Captain and Joco looked at each other. The powerful young +bear-leader was as pale as death. He trembled as if something terrible +had befallen him. Captain Winter looked at him searchingly. Where, he +asked himself, had he met this man? + +The villagers did not understand what was going on, and began to +shout, "Zorka! Now, Zorka, it is your turn with Mariska." The cries of +the villagers brought Joco to himself, and with a motion worthy of a +player he roused the little bear to its feet. Then he made signs to +the girl. Being too excited to blow his whistle, he started singing +and beating the drum; but his voice trembled so much that by and by he +left off singing and let the girl go through her performance alone. + +Then the Captain saw something that wrought him up to ecstasy. Zorka +was singing a sad Bosnian song in her tender, crooning voice, and +dancing with graceful steps round the little bear, who, to tell the +truth, also danced more lightly than the heavy Ibrahim, and was very +amusing when he lifted his paw to his head as Hungarians do when they +are in high spirits and break forth in hurrahs. + +Captain Winter, however, saw nothing but the fair maid, whose pearly +white teeth shone out from between her red lips. He felt he would like +to slip a silk ribbon round her waist, which swayed as lightly as a +reed waving to and fro in the wind, and lead her off as if she were a +beautiful colored butterfly. + +Zorka grew tired of the sad, melancholy song, and began to dance +wildly and passionately. Perhaps her natural feminine vanity was +roused within her, and she wanted to show off at her best before the +handsome soldier. Her eyes sparkled; a flush spread from time to time +over her face; with her sweet voice she animated the little bear, +crying, "Mariska, Mariska, jump!" But after a while she seemed to +forget the growling little creature altogether, and went on dancing a +kind of graceful fandango of her own invention. As she swayed, it +seemed as if the motion and excitement caused every fiber of her body +to flash out a sort of electric glow. By the time the girl flung +herself, quite exhausted, in the dust at his feet, Captain Winter was +absolutely beside himself. Such a morsel of heavenly daintiness did +not often drop in his path now that he was fasting in this purgatory +of a village. His stay there had been one long Lent, during which joys +and pleasures had been rare indeed. + +It began to grow dark. At the other end of the market-place several +officers were on their way to supper at the village inn where they +always messed. The Captain turned to the man and woman in possession +of the bears and ordered them in no friendly tone to go with him to +the inn as his guests. Joco bowed humbly like a culprit, and gloomily +led on his comrade Ibrahim. Zorka, on the contrary, looked gay as she +walked along beside the light-colored bear. + +The Captain looked again and again at the bear-leader walking in front +of him. "Where have I seen this fellow before?" he kept asking +himself. His uncertainty did not last long. His face brightened. "Oh, +yes; I remember!" he inwardly exclaimed. Now he felt sure that this +black cherry of Bosnia, this girl with the waist of a dragonfly, was +his. + +The inn, once a gentleman's country-house, was built of stone. The +bears were lodged in a little room which used to serve the former +owner of the house as pantry, and were chained to the strong iron +lattice of the window. In one corner of this little room the landlord +ordered one of his servants to make a good bed of straw. "The Captain +will pay for it," he said. + +When everything was ready in the little room, the Captain called Joco +and took him there. He knew that what he was going to do was not +chivalrous; but he had already worked himself up to a blaze of +excitement over the game he meant to play, and this fellow was too +stupid to understand what a hazardous piece of play it was. When they +were alone he stood erect before the bear-leader and looked fixedly +into his eyes. + +"You are Joco Hics," he said; "two years ago you deserted from my +regiment." + +The strong, tall, young peasant began to tremble so that his knees +knocked together, but could not answer a single word. Fritz Winter, +Ritter von Wallishausen, whispered into Joco's ear, his speech +agitated and stuttering: "You have a woman with you," he said, "who +surely is not your wife. Set her free. I will buy her from you for any +price you ask. You can go away with your bears and pluck yourself +another such flower where you found this one." + +Joco stood motionless for a while as if turned into stone. + +He did not tremble any longer: the crisis was over. He had only been +frightened as long as he was uncertain whether or not he would be +instantly hanged if he were found out. + +"In all Bosnia," he answered gloomily, "there was only one such flower +and that I stole." + +Before a man who was willing to share his guilt, he dared acknowledge +his crime. In truth, this man was no better than himself. He only wore +finer clothes. + +The Captain became impatient. "Are you going to give her up, or not?" +he asked. "I do not want to harm you; but I could put you in prison +and in chains, and what would become of your sweetheart then?" + +Joco answered proudly: "She would cry her eyes out for me; otherwise +she would not have run away from her rich father's house for my sake." + +Ah! thought the Captain, if it were only that! By degrees I could win +her to me. + +But it was not advisable to make a fuss, whether for the sake of his +position or because of his wife, who lived in town. + +"Joco, I tell you what," said the Captain, suddenly becoming calm. "I +am going away now for a short time. I shall be gone about an hour. By +that time everybody will be in bed. The officers who sup with me, and +the innkeeper and his servants, will all be sound asleep. I give you +this time to think it over. When I come back you will either hold out +your hand to be chained or to receive a pile of gold in it. In the +meantime I shall lock you in there, because I know how very apt you +are to disappear." He went out, and turned the key twice in the lock. +Joco was left alone. + +When the hour had expired Captain Winter noisily opened the door. His +eyes sparkled from the strong wine he had taken during supper, as well +as from the exquisite expectation which made his blood boil. + +Joco stood smiling submissively before him. "I have thought it over, +sir," he said. "I will speak with the little Zorka about it." + +Ritter Winter now forgot that he was speaking with a deserter, whom it +was his duty to arrest. He held out his hand joyfully to the Bosnian +peasant, and said encouragingly: "Go speak with her; but make haste. +Go instantly." + +They crept together to the pantry where the girl slept near the +chained bears. Joco opened the door without making a sound, and +slipped in. It seemed to the Captain that he heard whispering inside. +These few moments seemed an eternity to him. At last the bear-leader +reappeared and, nodding to the Captain, said: "Sir, you are expected." + +Captain Winter had undoubtedly taken too much wine. He staggered as he +entered the pantry, the door of which the bear-leader shut and locked +directly he had entered. He then listened with such an expression on +his face as belongs only to a born bandit. Almost immediately a +growling was heard, and directly afterwards some terrible swearing and +a fall. The growling grew stronger and stronger. At last it ended in a +wild roar. A desperate cry disturbed the stillness of the night: +"Help! help!" + +In the yard and round about it the dogs woke up, and with terrible +yelping ran towards the pantry, where the roaring of the bear grew +ever wilder and more powerful. The rattling of the chain and the cries +of the girl mingled with Ibrahim's growling. The neighbors began to +wake up. Human voices, confused questionings, were heard. The +inn-keeper and his servants appeared on the scene in their night +clothes, but, hearing the terrible roaring, fled again into security. +The Captain's cries for help became weaker and weaker. And now Joco +took his iron stake, which he always kept by him, opened the door, and +at one bound was at the side of the wild beast. His voice sounded +again like thunder, and the iron stick fell with a thud on the bear's +back. Ibrahim had smelt blood. Beneath his paws a man's mangled body +was writhing. The beast could hardly be made to let go his prey. In +the light that came through the small window, Joco soon found the +chain from which not long before he had freed Ibrahim, and with a +swift turn he put the muzzle over the beast's jaws. It was done in a +twinkling. During this time Zorka had been running up and down the +empty yard, crying in vain for help. Nobody had dared come near. + +The following day Captain Fritz Winter, Ritter von Wallishausen, was +lying between burning wax candles upon his bier. Nobody could be made +responsible for the terrible accident. Why did he go to the bears when +he was not sober? + +But that very day the siren of Bosnia danced her wild dance again in +the next village, and with her sweet, melodious voice urged the +light-colored little bear: "Mariska, jump, jump!" + + + +ARTHUR ELCK + + +_THE TOWER ROOM_ + + +There were many wonderful things that aroused our childish fantasy, +when Balint Orzo and I were boys, but none so much as the old tower +that stands a few feet from the castle, shadowy and mysterious. It is +an old, curious, square tower, and at the brink of its notched edge +there is a shingled helmet which was erected by one of the late Orzos. + +There is many and many a legend told about this old tower. A rumor +exists that it has a secret chamber into which none is permitted to +enter, except the head of the family. Some great secret is concealed +in the tower-room, and when the first-born son of the Orzo family +becomes of age his father takes him there and reveals it. And the +effect of the revelation is such that every young man who enters that +room comes out with gray hair. + +As to what the secret might be, there was much conjecturing. One +legend had it that once some Orzo imprisoned his enemies in the tower +and starved them until the unfortunates ate each other in their crazed +suffering. + +According to another story Kelemen Orzo ordered his faithless wife +Krisztina Olaszi to be plastered into the wall of the room. Every +night since, sobbing is heard from the tower. + +Another runs that every hundred years a child with a dog's face is +born in the Orzo family and that this little monster has to perish in +the tower-room, so as to hide the disgrace of the family. + +Another conjecture was that once the notorious Menyhart Orzo, who was +supreme under King Rudolph in the castle, played a game of checkers +with his neighbor, Boldizsar Zomolnoky. They commenced to play on a +Monday and continued the game and drank all week until Sunday morning +dawned upon them. Then Menyhart Orzo's confessor came and pleaded with +the gamblers. He begged them to stop the game on the holy day of +Sunday, when all true Christians are in church praising the Lord. But +Menyhart, bringing his fist down on the table in such rage that all +the wine glasses and bottles danced, cried: "And if we have to sit +here till the world comes to an end, we won't stop till we have +finished this game!" + +Scarcely had he uttered his vow when, somewhere from the earth, or +from the wall, a thundering voice was heard promising to take him at +his word--that they would continue playing till the end of the world. +And ever since, the checkers are heard rattling, and the two damned +souls are still playing the game in the tower-room. + +When we were boys, the secret did not give us any rest, and we were +always discussing and plotting as to how we could discover it. We made +at least a hundred various plans, but all failed. It was an +impossibility to get into the tower, because of a heavy iron-barred +oaken door. The windows were too high to be reached. We had to satisfy +ourselves with throwing a well-aimed stone, which hit the room through +the window. Such an achievement was somewhat of a success, for +oftentimes we drove out an alarmed flock of birds. + +One day I decided that the best way would be to find out the secret of +the tower from Balint's father himself. "He is the head of the +family," I thought, "and if any light is to be had on the mystery, it +is through him." But Balint didn't like the idea of approaching the +old man; he knew his father's temper. + +However, once he ventured the question, but he was sorry for it +afterwards, for the older Orzo flew into a passion, and scolded and +raged, ending by telling him that he must not listen to such +nursery-tales; that the tower was moldering and decaying with age; +that the floor timbers and staircase were so infirm that it would fall +to pieces should anyone approach it; and that this was why no one +could gain admittance. + +For a long time afterwards neither of us spoke of it. + +But curiosity was incessantly working within us, and one evening +Balint solemnly vowed to me that as soon as he became of age and had +looked into the room, he would call for me, should I be even at the +end of the world, and would let me into the secret. In order to make +it more solemn, we called this a "blood-contract." + +With this vow we parted. My parents sent me to college; Balint had a +private tutor and was kept at home in the castle. After that we only +met at vacation time. + +Eight years passed before I saw the Orzo home again. At Balint's +urgent, sudden invitation I had hurriedly journeyed back to my rocky +fatherland. + +I had scarcely stepped on the wide stone stairway leading from the +terrace in the front of the castle, when someone shouted that the +honorable master was near! He came galloping in on a foaming horse. I +looked at him and started, as if I had seen a ghost, for this thin, +tall rider was the perfect resemblance of his father. The same knotty +hair and bearded head, the same densely furrowed face, the same deep, +calm, gray eyes. And his hair and beard were almost as white as his +father's! + +He came galloping through the gate, pulled the bridle with a sudden +jerk, and the next moment was on the paving; then with one bound he +reached the terrace, and had me in his strong arms. With wild +eagerness he showed me into the castle and at the same time kept +talking and questioning me without ceasing. Then he thrust me into my +room and declared that he gave me fifteen minutes--no more--to dress. + +The time had not even expired, when he came, like a whirlwind, +embraced me again and carried me into the dining-room. There +chandeliers and lamps were already lit; the table was elaborately +decorated, and bore plenty of wine. + +At the meal he spoke again. Nervously jerking out his words, he was +continually questioning me on one subject and then another, without +waiting for the answer. He laughed often and harshly. When we came to +the drinking, he winked to the servants, and immediately five Czigany +musicians entered the room. Balint noticed the astonishment on my +face, and half evasively said: + +"I have sent to Iglo for them in honor of you. Let the music sound, +and the wine flow; who knows when we will see each other again?" + +He put his face into his palm. The Cziganys played old Magyar songs. +Balint glanced at me now and then, and filled the glasses; we clinked +them together, but he always seemed to be worried. + +It was dawning. The soft sound of a church bell rose to us. Balint put +his hand on my shoulder and bent to my ear. + +"Do you know how my father died?" he asked in a husky voice. "He +killed himself." + +I looked at him with amazement; I wanted to speak, but he shook his +head, and grasped my hand. + +"Do you remember my father?" he asked me. Of course; while I looked at +him it seemed as if his father were standing before me. The very +fibrous, skinny figure, the muscles and flesh seeming peeled off. Even +through his coat arm I felt the naked, unveiled nerves. + +"I always admired and honored my father, but we were never true +intimates; I knew that he loved me, but I felt as if it was not for my +own sake; as if he loved something in my soul that was strange to me. +I never saw him smile; sometimes he was so harsh that I was afraid of +him; at another time he was unmanageable." + +"I did not understand him, but the older I became the better did I +feel that there was a sad secret germinating in the bottom of his +soul, where it grew like a spreading tree, the branches of which crept +up to the castle and covered the walls, little by little overshadowed +the sunlight, absorbed the air, and darkened everyone's heart. I +gritted my teeth in vain; I could not work; I could not start to +accomplish anything. I struggled with hundreds and hundreds of +determinations; to-day I prepared for this or that; to-morrow for +something else; ambition pressed me within; I could not make up my +mind. Behind every resolution I made, I noticed my father's +countenance, like a note of interrogation. The old fables that we +heard together in our childhood were renewed in my memory. Little by +little the thought grew within me, like a fixed delusion, that my +father's fatal secret was locked up in the tower room. After that I +lived by the calendar and dwelt on the passing of time on the clock. +And when the sun that shone on me when I was born arose the +twenty-fourth time, I pressed my hand on my heart and entered my +father's room--this very room. + +"'Father,' I said, 'I became of age to-day, everything may be opened +before me, and I am at liberty to know everything.' Father looked at +me and pondered over this. + +"'Oh, yes!' he whispered, 'this is the day.' + +"'I may know everything now,' continued I; 'I am not afraid of any +secrets. In the name of our family tradition, I beg of you, please +open the tower-room.' + +"Father raised his hand, as if he wanted to make me become silent. His +face was as white as a ghost. + +"'Very well,' he murmured, 'I will open the tower-room for you.' + +"And then he pulled off his coat, tore his shirt on his breast, and +pointed to his heart. + +"'Here is the tower-room, my boy!' did he whisper in a husky voice. +'Here is the tower-room, and within our family secret. Do you see it?' + +"That is all he said, but when I looked at him I immediately perceived +the secret; everything was clear before me and I had a presentiment +that something was nearing its end, something about to break. + +"Father walked up and down; and then he stopped and pointed to this +picture; to this very picture. + +"'Did you ever thoroughly look at your ancestors? They are all from +the Orzos. If you scrutinize their faces you will recognize in them +your father, yourself, and your grandfather; and if you ever read +their documents, which were left to us--there they are in the +box--then you will know that they are just the same material as we +are. Their way of thinking was the same as ours and so were their +desires, their wills, their lives, and deaths. We had among them +soldiers, clergymen, scientists, but not even one great, celebrated +man, although their talent, their strength almost tore them asunder. + +"'In every one of them the family curse took root: not one of them +could be a great man, neither my father nor yours.' + +"Then I felt as if something horrible was coming from his lips. My +breath almost ceased. Father did not finish what he was going to say, +but stopped and listened for a minute. + +"'I was my father's only hope,' he went on after a while; 'I too was +born talented and prepared for great things, but the Orzos' destiny +overtook me, and you see now what became of me. I looked into the +tower-room. You know what it contains? You know what the name of our +secret is? He who saw this secret lost faith in himself. For him it +would have been better not to have come into this world at all. But I +loved to live and did not want to abandon all my hopes. I married your +mother; she consoled me until you were born, and then I regained my +delight in life. I knew what I had to keep before my eyes to bring up +my son to be such a man as his father could not be. + +"'I acquiesced when you left for the foreign countries; then your +letters came. I made a special study of every sentence and of every +word of it, for I did not want to trust my reason. I thought the first +time that the fault was in me; that I saw unnecessary phantoms. But it +wasn't so, for what I read out of your words was our destiny, the +curse of the Orzos; from the way of your thinking, I found out that +everything is in vain; you too turned your head backward, you too +looked into yourself and noticed there the thing that makes the +perceiver sterile forever. You did not even notice what you have done; +you could not grasp it with your reason, but the poison is already +within you.' + +"'It cannot be, father!' I broke out, terrified. + +"But he sadly shook his head. 'I am old; I cannot believe in anything +now. I wish you were right, and would never come to know what I know. +God bless you, my son; it is getting late, and I am getting tired.' + +"It struck me that he was trying to cover his disbelief with sarcasm. +Both of us were without sleep that night. At dawn there was silence in +his room. I bitterly thought, 'When will I go to rest?' When I went +into his room in the morning he was lying in his bed. All was over. He +had taken poison, and written his farewell on a piece of paper. His +last wish was that no one should ever know under what circumstances he +died." + +Balint left off speaking and gazed with outstretched eyes toward the +window in the darkness. I slowly went to him and put my hand upon his +shoulder. He started at my touch. + +"I more than once thought of the woman who could be the mother of my +son. How many times have I been tempted to fulfill my father's last +wish! But at such a time it has always come to my mind that I too +might have such a son, who would cast into his father's teeth that he +was a coward and a selfish man; that he sacrificed a life for his +illusive hopes. + +"No! I won't do it. I won't do it. I am the last of the Orzos. With me +this damned family will die out. My fathers were cowards and rascals. +I do not want anybody to curse my memory." + +I kissed Balint's wet forehead; I knew that this was the last time I +would see him. The next day I left the castle, and the day after, his +death was made public. He committed suicide, like his father. He was +the last Orzo, and I turned about the coat of arms above his head. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Continental Classics, Volume +XVIII., Mystery Tales, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MYSTERIES *** + +***** This file should be named 12144.txt or 12144.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/2/1/4/12144/ + +Produced by Charles Aldarondo, Project Manager; Keith M. Eckrich, +Post-Proofer; the Online Distributed Proofreaders Team + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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