summaryrefslogtreecommitdiff
diff options
context:
space:
mode:
-rw-r--r--.gitattributes3
-rw-r--r--1552.txt14874
-rw-r--r--1552.zipbin0 -> 268807 bytes
-rw-r--r--LICENSE.txt11
-rw-r--r--README.md2
5 files changed, 14890 insertions, 0 deletions
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/1552.txt b/1552.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..29d58d2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/1552.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,14874 @@
+Project Gutenberg Etext Most Interesting Stories of All Nations
+Edited by Julian Hawthorne
+
+
+
+Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check
+the copyright laws for your country before posting these files!!
+
+Please take a look at the important information in this header.
+We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an
+electronic path open for the next readers. Do not remove this.
+
+
+**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**
+
+**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**
+
+*These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and Donations*
+
+Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and
+further information is included below. We need your donations.
+
+
+The Most Interesting Stories of All Nations
+
+Edited by Julian Hawthorne
+
+December, 1998 [Etext #1552]
+
+
+Project Gutenberg Etext Most Interesting Stories of All Nations
+******This file should be named 1552.txt or 1552.zip*****
+
+This etext was prepared by Donald Lainson, charlie@idirect.com.
+
+
+We are now trying to release all our books one month in advance
+of the official release dates, for time for better editing.
+
+Please note: neither this list nor its contents are final till
+midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement.
+The official release date of all Project Gutenberg Etexts is at
+Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A
+preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment
+and editing by those who wish to do so. To be sure you have an
+up to date first edition [xxxxx10x.xxx] please check file sizes
+in the first week of the next month. Since our ftp program has
+a bug in it that scrambles the date [tried to fix and failed] a
+look at the file size will have to do, but we will try to see a
+new copy has at least one byte more or less.
+
+
+Information about Project Gutenberg (one page)
+
+We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The
+fifty hours is one conservative estimate for how long it we take
+to get any etext selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright
+searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. This
+projected audience is one hundred million readers. If our value
+per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2
+million dollars per hour this year as we release thirty-two text
+files per month, or 384 more Etexts in 1997 for a total of 1000+
+If these reach just 10% of the computerized population, then the
+total should reach over 100 billion Etexts given away.
+
+The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away One Trillion Etext
+Files by the December 31, 2001. [10,000 x 100,000,000=Trillion]
+This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers,
+which is only 10% of the present number of computer users. 2001
+should have at least twice as many computer users as that, so it
+will require us reaching less than 5% of the users in 2001.
+
+
+We need your donations more than ever!
+
+
+All donations should be made to "Project Gutenberg/CMU": and are
+tax deductible to the extent allowable by law. (CMU = Carnegie-
+Mellon University).
+
+For these and other matters, please mail to:
+
+Project Gutenberg
+P. O. Box 2782
+Champaign, IL 61825
+
+When all other email fails try our Executive Director:
+Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com>
+
+We would prefer to send you this information by email
+(Internet, Bitnet, Compuserve, ATTMAIL or MCImail).
+
+******
+If you have an FTP program (or emulator), please
+FTP directly to the Project Gutenberg archives:
+[Mac users, do NOT point and click. . .type]
+
+ftp uiarchive.cso.uiuc.edu
+login: anonymous
+password: your@login
+cd etext/etext90 through /etext96
+or cd etext/articles [get suggest gut for more information]
+dir [to see files]
+get or mget [to get files. . .set bin for zip files]
+GET INDEX?00.GUT
+for a list of books
+and
+GET NEW GUT for general information
+and
+MGET GUT* for newsletters.
+
+**Information prepared by the Project Gutenberg legal advisor**
+(Three Pages)
+
+
+***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS**START***
+Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers.
+They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with
+your copy of this etext, even if you got it for free from
+someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our
+fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement
+disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how
+you can distribute copies of this etext if you want to.
+
+*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS ETEXT
+By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm
+etext, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept
+this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive
+a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this etext by
+sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person
+you got it from. If you received this etext on a physical
+medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request.
+
+ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM ETEXTS
+This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-
+tm etexts, is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor
+Michael S. Hart through the Project Gutenberg Association at
+Carnegie-Mellon University (the "Project"). Among other
+things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright
+on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and
+distribute it in the United States without permission and
+without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth
+below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this etext
+under the Project's "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark.
+
+To create these etexts, the Project expends considerable
+efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain
+works. Despite these efforts, the Project's etexts and any
+medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other
+things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
+intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged
+disk or other etext medium, a computer virus, or computer
+codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment.
+
+LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES
+But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below,
+[1] the Project (and any other party you may receive this
+etext from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext) disclaims all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including
+legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR
+UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT,
+INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE
+OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE
+POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES.
+
+If you discover a Defect in this etext within 90 days of
+receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any)
+you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that
+time to the person you received it from. If you received it
+on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and
+such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement
+copy. If you received it electronically, such person may
+choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to
+receive it electronically.
+
+THIS ETEXT IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS
+TO THE ETEXT OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT
+LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A
+PARTICULAR PURPOSE.
+
+Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or
+the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the
+above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you
+may have other legal rights.
+
+INDEMNITY
+You will indemnify and hold the Project, its directors,
+officers, members and agents harmless from all liability, cost
+and expense, including legal fees, that arise directly or
+indirectly from any of the following that you do or cause:
+[1] distribution of this etext, [2] alteration, modification,
+or addition to the etext, or [3] any Defect.
+
+DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm"
+You may distribute copies of this etext electronically, or by
+disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this
+"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg,
+or:
+
+[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this
+ requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the
+ etext or this "small print!" statement. You may however,
+ if you wish, distribute this etext in machine readable
+ binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form,
+ including any form resulting from conversion by word pro-
+ cessing or hypertext software, but only so long as
+ *EITHER*:
+
+ [*] The etext, when displayed, is clearly readable, and
+ does *not* contain characters other than those
+ intended by the author of the work, although tilde
+ (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may
+ be used to convey punctuation intended by the
+ author, and additional characters may be used to
+ indicate hypertext links; OR
+
+ [*] The etext may be readily converted by the reader at
+ no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent
+ form by the program that displays the etext (as is
+ the case, for instance, with most word processors);
+ OR
+
+ [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at
+ no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the
+ etext in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC
+ or other equivalent proprietary form).
+
+[2] Honor the etext refund and replacement provisions of this
+ "Small Print!" statement.
+
+[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Project of 20% of the
+ net profits you derive calculated using the method you
+ already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you
+ don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are
+ payable to "Project Gutenberg Association/Carnegie-Mellon
+ University" within the 60 days following each
+ date you prepare (or were legally required to prepare)
+ your annual (or equivalent periodic) tax return.
+
+WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO?
+The Project gratefully accepts contributions in money, time,
+scanning machines, OCR software, public domain etexts, royalty
+free copyright licenses, and every other sort of contribution
+you can think of. Money should be paid to "Project Gutenberg
+Association / Carnegie-Mellon University".
+
+*END*THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END*
+
+
+
+
+
+This etext was prepared by Donald Lainson, charlie@idirect.com.
+
+
+
+
+
+The Lock and Key Library
+
+The Most Interesting Stories of All Nations
+
+Edited by Julian Hawthorne
+
+
+North Europe--Russian--Swedish--Danish--Hungarian
+
+
+
+Table of Contents
+
+
+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
+
+
+JORGEN WILHELM BERGSOE
+
+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 difficuity: 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,* and my grandmother recovered every farthing
+that she lost."
+
+
+* Said of a card when it wins or loses in the quickest possible
+time.
+
+
+"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 Ilitch, 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,* where is my snuffbox?"
+
+
+* Diminutive of Lizaveta (Elizabeth).
+
+
+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. . . . Goodby, Lizavetta
+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 be, "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 superstitions; 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, be 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.
+
+
+
+Vera Jelihovsky
+
+The General's Will
+
+
+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 threshhold.
+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 Paylovitch 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.* 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.
+
+
+* Sacred images.
+
+
+"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
+stepmother'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 traveling
+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 anteroom. 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*
+
+
+* (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 underwent
+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.)
+
+
+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* 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."
+
+
+* 1,000 yards.
+
+
+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* 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.
+
+
+* Janitors.
+
+
+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 antechamber, divided by a partition,
+behind which was a small kitchen. The old woman stood silently in
+front of him, eyeing 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
+eyeing 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."*
+
+
+* "Little father."
+
+
+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* 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.
+
+
+* Cabbage soup.
+
+
+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 be 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
+tomorrow, 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
+know, 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 hotheaded. 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, eyeing 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 he 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 failing. 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 hoarding 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 "to-day," 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 Hay-market 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 be 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 Porhyrius 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 consquence. 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 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.
+
+
+
+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.
+Dukovski 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! Hothead! 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.
+
+"Brink 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 today 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 flapping--"
+
+"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 Princesss 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 von Doring, 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 Doring 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 Doring
+at Hamburg, and again in Paris. It was, therefore, to be expected
+that Baroness von Doring 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 he 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 bit," 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 corners 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
+Antinous. 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
+Doring 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 Doring 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 Doring," 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 Doring 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
+Doring, 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 Doring!" 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
+Doring? 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 touchstone 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 blowpipe. 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
+beeswax. 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 Doring 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 Doring 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 semicircular 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.
+
+
+
+Jorgen Wilhelm Bergsoe
+
+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 Solling. 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 Solling 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
+Solling 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 Solling 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 Solling 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 Solling. "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.
+Solling 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 Solling."
+
+Daae's confused speech was received with laughter and applause, and
+Solling'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,
+Solling 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 Solling, running out to the door.
+
+We all followed him and discovered that a pair of runaway 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. Solling 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 Solling. "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 Solling's last
+word.
+
+"What do you mean, Hans?" asked Solling 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 Solling. "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 Solling 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 Solling'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 Solling'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 for 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
+Solling, 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 Solling 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 Solling 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 Solling, when the first burst of
+admiration had passed. "When I bleach it and touch it up with
+varnish, it wild 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 Solling, 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, everyone of us has some share in it," said some one else.
+
+"But what are you going to do about it?" remarked Solling. "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 Solling mockingly.
+
+"Two," cried somebody else.
+
+"Four," exclaimed Solling. "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 Solling raised me a thaler. There were no
+more bids, the hammer fell, and the arm belonged to Solling.
+
+"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 Solling 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 watch man--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:
+"Solling." 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 Solling 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 Solling'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 Solling 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 the men, 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 favorite 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
+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 he 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 hack 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, enfin, 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 compositer, 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 rendered 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 Flemming 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 Aalso, 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 Sorensen.]
+
+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 helpmeet. 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
+Soren 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 Bruns covets poor Ole Anderson'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 Sorensen!
+
+
+Rector Soren Quist of Veilbye came to see me this morning. He has
+a new coachman, Niels Bruus, brother to the owner of Ingvorstrup.
+Neils 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 judgment 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 daybreak 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 en-treats 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 downhearted.
+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 Marten 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." Marten 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 about 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 this, 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 shout! 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 Marten 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, "Jens 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 of 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 sleepwalking 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 struck 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 Aalso. 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 Sorensen stopped suddenly. What followed
+can be learned from the written and witnessed statements of the
+pastor of Aalso, 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 Soren 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 Aalso.
+
+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 Aalso 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 Soren 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 he 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 Marten. "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 Niel's 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 Soren Quist
+of Veilbye, by the door of Aalso church.
+
+
+
+Hungarian Mystery Stories
+
+
+Ferencz Molnar
+
+The Living Death
+
+
+Here 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 rail-work 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.*
+
+
+* There is a race of the Hungarians in the Carpath who, unlike the
+Hungarians of the plain, have blue eyes and often fair hair.
+
+
+"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*--a gray dolmany, with crimson cord; he held a crimson
+esako, with a tricolored cockade, in his hand.
+
+
+* Part of the free corps raised in 1848.
+
+
+"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.*
+
+
+* Blue and gold are the colors of Transylvania.
+
+
+"I understand," said the young man, in a tone of joyful surprise,
+as he pressed the sweet girl to his heart, "Erdely* and Hungary
+united! I shall win glory for your colors!"
+
+
+* Transylvania.
+
+
+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*
+early on the next morning, and continued his route all night.
+
+
+* Klausenburg.
+
+
+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 Tapanfalva."
+
+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* Legion, your foe in battle, but
+now your host and protector."
+
+
+* The Wallachians were, in the days of Trajan, subdued by the
+Romans, with whom they became intermixed, and are also called
+Roumi.
+
+
+"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,* 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."
+
+
+* Everything on which a double-headed eagle--the emblem of the
+Austrian Government--was painted, engraved or sculptured, the
+Wallachians called paszura.
+
+
+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!"* cried a hussar, who had rushed to his master's
+apartments on hearing the sounds.
+
+
+* Olah, Wallachian--ok, plural.
+
+
+"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 fell 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 of 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 form? 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 pazsura.
+
+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,* by the Saxon-land.** 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!"
+
+
+* Brasso, or Kyonstadt, a town in the southeast of Transylvania, on
+the frontier of Wallachia.
+
+** A district inhabited by a colony of Saxons.
+
+
+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 pazsura 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!"*
+
+
+* Czine mintye!--A Wallachian term signifying revenge.
+
+
+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!"
+
+
+
+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 bosoms 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 marketplace 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 dragon-fly, 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;
+tomorrow 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 Project Gutenberg Etext Most Interesting Stories of All Nations
+
diff --git a/1552.zip b/1552.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7d35cf4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/1552.zip
Binary files differ
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..2db3a9b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/README.md
@@ -0,0 +1,2 @@
+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #1552 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/1552)