come! Chill with anticipation, I threw off thebedclothes, let my feet down to the floor, stood up ... one step; asecond.... I stole along, my feet, heavy as though they did not belongto me, trod feebly and uncertainly. Stay! what was that sound? Someonesawing, somewhere, or scraping ... or sighing? I listened ... I felt mycheeks twitching and cold watery tears came into my eyes. Nothing! ...I stole on again. It was dark but I knew the way. All at once Istumbled against a chair.... What a bang and how it hurt! It hit mejust on my leg.... I stood stock still. Well, did that wake them? Ah!here goes! Suddenly I felt bold and even spiteful. On! On! Now thedining-room was crossed, then the door was groped for and opened atone swing. The cursed hinge squeaked, bother it! Then I went up thestairs, one! two! one! two! A step creaked under my foot; I looked atit spitefully, just as though I could see it. Then I stretched for thehandle of another door. This one made not the slightest sound! It flewopen so easily, as though to say, "Pray walk in." ... And now I was inthe corridor!
In the corridor there was a little window high up under the ceiling, afaint light filtered in through the dark panes. And in that glimmer oflight I could see our little errand girl lying on the floor on a mat,both arms behind her tousled head; she was sound asleep, breathingrapidly and the fatal door was just behind her head. I stepped acrossthe mat, across the girl ... who opened that door? ... I don't know,but there I was in my aunt's room. There was the little lamp in onecorner and the bed in the other and my aunt in her cap and nightjacket on the bed with her face towards me. She was asleep, she didnot stir, I could not even hear her breathing. The flame of the littlelamp softly flickered, stirred by the draught of fresh air, andshadows stirred all over the room, even over the motionless wax-likeyellow face of my aunt....
And there was the watch! It was hanging on a little embroideredcushion on the wall behind the bed. What luck, only think of it!Nothing to delay me! But whose steps were those, soft and rapid behindmy back? Oh! no! it was my heart beating! ... I moved my legsforward.... Good God! something round and rather large pushed againstme below my knee, once and again! I was ready to scream, I was readyto drop with horror.... A striped cat, our own cat, was standingbefore me arching his back and wagging his tail. Then he leapt on thebed--softly and heavily--turned round and sat without purring, exactlylike a judge; he sat and looked at me with his golden pupils. "Puss,puss," I whispered, hardly audibly. I bent across my aunt, I hadalready snatched the watch. She suddenly sat up and opened her eyelidswide.... Heavenly Father, what next? ... but her eyelids quivered andclosed and with a faint murmur her head sank on the pillow.
A minute later I was back again in my own room, in my own bed and thewatch was in my hands....
More lightly than a feather I flew back! I was a fine fellow, I was athief, I was a hero, I was gasping with delight, I was hot, I wasgleeful--I wanted to wake David at once to tell him all about it--and,incredible as it sounds, I fell asleep and slept like the dead! Atlast I opened my eyes.... It was light in the room, the sun had risen.Luckily no one was awake yet. I jumped up as though I had beenscalded, woke David and told him all about it. He listened, smiled."Do you know what?" he said to me at last, "let's bury the silly watchin the earth, so that it may never be seen again." I thought his ideabest of all. In a few minutes we were both dressed; we ran out intothe orchard behind our house and under an old apple tree in a deephole, hurriedly scooped out in the soft, springy earth with David'sbig knife, my godfather's hated present was hidden forever, so that itnever got into the hands of the disgusting Trankvillitatin after all!We stamped down the hole, strewed rubbish over it and, proud andhappy, unnoticed by anyone, went home again, got into our beds andslept another hour or two--and such a light and blissful sleep!
X
You can imagine the uproar there was that morning, as soon as my auntwoke up and missed the watch! Her piercing shriek is ringing in myears to this day. "Help! Robbed! Robbed!" she squealed, and alarmedthe whole household. She was furious, while David and I only smiled toourselves and sweet was our smile to us. "Everyone, everyone must bewell thrashed!" bawled my aunt. "The watch has been stolen from undermy head, from under my pillow!" We were prepared for anything, weexpected trouble.... But contrary to our expectations we did not getinto trouble at all. My father certainly did fume dreadfully at first,he even talked of the police; but I suppose he was bored with theenquiry of the day before and suddenly, to my aunt's indescribableamazement, he flew out not against us but against her.
"You sicken me worse than a bitter radish, Pelageya Petrovna," heshouted, "with your watch. I don't want to hear any more about it! Itcan't be lost by magic, you say, but what's it to do with me? It maybe magic for all I care! Stolen from you? Well, good luck to it then!What will Nastasey Nastasyeitch say? Damnation take him, yourNastasyeitch! I get nothing but annoyances and unpleasantness fromhim! Don't dare to worry me again! Do you hear?"
My father slammed the door and went off to his own room. David and Idid not at first understand the allusion in his last words; butafterwards we found out that my father was just then violentlyindignant with my godfather, who had done him out of a profitable job.So my aunt was left looking a fool. She almost burst with vexation,but there was no help for it. She had to confine herself to repeatingin a sharp whisper, twisting her mouth in my direction whenever shepassed me, "Thief, thief, robber, scoundrel." My aunt's reproacheswere a source of real enjoyment to me. It was very agreeable, too, asI crossed the flower-garden, to let my eye with assumed indifferenceglide over the very spot where the watch lay at rest under theapple-tree; and if David were close at hand to exchange a meaninggrimace with him....
My aunt tried setting Trankvillitatin upon me; but I appealed toDavid. He told the stalwart divinity student bluntly that he would ripup his belly with a knife if he did not leave me alone....Trankvillitatin was frightened; though, according to my aunt, he was agrenadier and a cavalier he was not remarkable for valour. So passedfive weeks.... But do you imagine that the story of the watch endedthere? No, it did not; only to continue my story I must introduce anew character; and to introduce that new character I must go back alittle.
XI
My father had for many years been on very friendly, even intimateterms with a retired government clerk called Latkin, a lame little manin poor circumstances with queer, timid manners, one of thosecreatures of whom it is commonly said that they are crushed by GodHimself. Like my father and Nastasey, he was engaged in the humblerclass of legal work and acted as legal adviser and agent. Butpossessing neither a presentable appearance nor the gift of words andhaving little confidence in himself, he did not venture to actindependently but attached himself to my father. His handwriting was"regular beadwork," he knew the law thoroughly and had mastered allthe intricacies of the jargon of petitions and legal documents. He hadmanaged various cases with my father and had shared with him gains andlosses and it seemed as though nothing could shake their friendship,and yet it broke down in one day and forever. My father quarrelledwith his colleague for good. If Latkin had snatched a profitable jobfrom my father, after the fashion of Nastasey, who replaced him lateron, my father would have been no more indignant with him than withNastasey, probably less. But Latkin, under the influence of anunexplained, incomprehensible feeling, envy, greed--or perhaps even amomentary fit of honesty--"gave away" my father, betrayed him to theircommon client, a wealthy young merchant, opening this careless youngman's eyes to a certain--well, piece of sharp practice, destined tobring my father considerable profit. It was not the money loss,however great--no--but the betrayal that wounded and infuriated myfather; he could not forgive treachery.
"So he sets himself up for a saint!" he repeated, trembling all overwith anger, his teeth chattering as though he were in a fever. Ihappened to be in the room and was a witness of this ugly scene."Good. Amen, from today. It's all over between us. There's the ikonand there's the door! Neither you in my house nor I in yours. You aretoo honest for us. How can we keep company with you? But may you haveno house nor home!"
It was in vain that Latkin entreated my father and bowed down beforehim; it was in vain that he tried to explain to him what filled hisown soul with painful perplexity. "You know it was with no sort ofprofit to myself, Porfiry Petrovitch," he faltered: "why, I cut my ownthroat!" My father remained implacable. Latkin never set foot in ourhouse again. Fate itself seemed determined to carry out my father'slast cruel words. Soon after the rupture (which took place two yearsbefore the beginning of my story), Latkin's wife, who had, it is true,been ill for a long time, died; his second daughter, a child threeyears old, became deaf and dumb in one day from terror; a swarm ofbees had settled on her head; Latkin himself had an apoplectic strokeand sank into extreme and hopeless poverty. How he struggled on, whathe lived upon--it