CHAPTER V
When next morning at eleven o'clock punctually Raskolnikov went into thedepartment of the investigation of criminal causes and sent his name into Porfiry Petrovitch, he was surprised at being kept waiting so long:it was at least ten minutes before he was summoned. He had expectedthat they would pounce upon him. But he stood in the waiting-room, andpeople, who apparently had nothing to do with him, were continuallypassing to and fro before him. In the next room which looked like anoffice, several clerks were sitting writing and obviously they hadno notion who or what Raskolnikov might be. He looked uneasily andsuspiciously about him to see whether there was not some guard, somemysterious watch being kept on him to prevent his escape. But there wasnothing of the sort: he saw only the faces of clerks absorbed in pettydetails, then other people, no one seemed to have any concern with him.He might go where he liked for them. The conviction grew stronger in himthat if that enigmatic man of yesterday, that phantom sprung out of theearth, had seen everything, they would not have let him stand and waitlike that. And would they have waited till he elected to appear ateleven? Either the man had not yet given information, or... or simplyhe knew nothing, had seen nothing (and how could he have seen anything?)and so all that had happened to him the day before was again a phantomexaggerated by his sick and overstrained imagination. This conjecturehad begun to grow strong the day before, in the midst of all hisalarm and despair. Thinking it all over now and preparing for a freshconflict, he was suddenly aware that he was trembling--and he felt arush of indignation at the thought that he was trembling with fear atfacing that hateful Porfiry Petrovitch. What he dreaded above all wasmeeting that man again; he hated him with an intense, unmitigated hatredand was afraid his hatred might betray him. His indignation was suchthat he ceased trembling at once; he made ready to go in with a cold andarrogant bearing and vowed to himself to keep as silent as possible,to watch and listen and for once at least to control his overstrainednerves. At that moment he was summoned to Porfiry Petrovitch.
He found Porfiry Petrovitch alone in his study. His study was a roomneither large nor small, furnished with a large writing-table, thatstood before a sofa, upholstered in checked material, a bureau, abookcase in the corner and several chairs--all government furniture,of polished yellow wood. In the further wall there was a closed door,beyond it there were no doubt other rooms. On Raskolnikov's entrancePorfiry Petrovitch had at once closed the door by which he had come inand they remained alone. He met his visitor with an apparently genialand good-tempered air, and it was only after a few minutes thatRaskolnikov saw signs of a certain awkwardness in him, as though he hadbeen thrown out of his reckoning or caught in something very secret.
"Ah, my dear fellow! Here you are... in our domain"... began Porfiry,holding out both hands to him. "Come, sit down, old man... or perhapsyou don't like to be called 'my dear fellow' and 'old man!'--_toutcourt_? Please don't think it too familiar.... Here, on the sofa."
Raskolnikov sat down, keeping his eyes fixed on him. "In our domain,"the apologies for familiarity, the French phrase _tout court_, were allcharacteristic signs.
"He held out both hands to me, but he did not give me one--he drew itback in time," struck him suspiciously. Both were watching each other,but when their eyes met, quick as lightning they looked away.
"I brought you this paper... about the watch. Here it is. Is it allright or shall I copy it again?"
"What? A paper? Yes, yes, don't be uneasy, it's all right," PorfiryPetrovitch said as though in haste, and after he had said it he took thepaper and looked at it. "Yes, it's all right. Nothing more is needed,"he declared with the same rapidity and he laid the paper on the table.
A minute later when he was talking of something else he took it from thetable and put it on his bureau.
"I believe you said yesterday you would like to question me...formally... about my acquaintance with the murdered woman?" Raskolnikovwas beginning again. "Why did I put in 'I believe'" passed throughhis mind in a flash. "Why am I so uneasy at having put in that '_Ibelieve_'?" came in a second flash. And he suddenly felt that hisuneasiness at the mere contact with Porfiry, at the first words, at thefirst looks, had grown in an instant to monstrous proportions, and thatthis was fearfully dangerous. His nerves were quivering, his emotion wasincreasing. "It's bad, it's bad! I shall say too much again."
"Yes, yes, yes! There's no hurry, there's no hurry," muttered PorfiryPetrovitch, moving to and fro about the table without any apparent aim,as it were making dashes towards the window, the bureau and the table,at one moment avoiding Raskolnikov's suspicious glance, then againstanding still and looking him straight in the face.
His fat round little figure looked very strange, like a ball rollingfrom one side to the other and rebounding back.
"We've plenty of time. Do you smoke? have you your own? Here, acigarette!" he went on, offering his visitor a cigarette. "You know I amreceiving you here, but my own quarters are through there, you know, mygovernment quarters. But I am living outside for the time, I had tohave some repairs done here. It's almost finished now.... Governmentquarters, you know, are a capital thing. Eh, what do you think?"
"Yes, a capital thing," answered Raskolnikov, looking at him almostironically.
"A capital thing, a capital thing," repeated Porfiry Petrovitch, asthough he had just thought of something quite different. "Yes, a capitalthing," he almost shouted at last, suddenly staring at Raskolnikov andstopping short two steps from him.
This stupid repetition was too incongruous in its ineptitude with theserious, brooding and enigmatic glance he turned upon his visitor.
But this stirred Raskolnikov's spleen more than ever and he could notresist an ironical and rather incautious challenge.
"Tell me, please," he asked suddenly, looking almost insolently at himand taking a kind of pleasure in his own insolence. "I believe it's asort of legal rule, a sort of legal tradition--for all investigatinglawyers--to begin their attack from afar, with a trivial, or at leastan irrelevant subject, so as to encourage, or rather, to divert the manthey are cross-examining, to disarm his caution and then all at once togive him an unexpected knock-down blow with some fatal question. Isn'tthat so? It's a sacred tradition, mentioned, I fancy, in all the manualsof the art?"
"Yes, yes.... Why, do you imagine that was why I spoke about governmentquarters... eh?"
And as he said this Porfiry Petrovitch screwed up his eyes and winked;a good-humoured, crafty look passed over his face. The wrinkles on hisforehead were smoothed out, his eyes contracted, his features broadenedand he suddenly went off into a nervous prolonged laugh, shaking allover and looking Raskolnikov straight in the face. The latter forcedhimself to laugh, too, but when Porfiry, seeing that he was laughing,broke into such a guffaw that he turned almost crimson, Raskolnikov'srepulsion overcame all precaution; he left off laughing, scowled andstared with hatred at Porfiry, keeping his eyes fixed on him while hisintentionally prolonged laughter lasted. There was lack of precaution onboth sides, however, for Porfiry Petrovitch seemed to be laughing inhis visitor's face and to be very little disturbed at the annoyance withwhich the visitor received it. The latter fact was very significantin Raskolnikov's eyes: he saw that Porfiry Petrovitch had not beenembarrassed just before either, but that he, Raskolnikov, had perhapsfallen into a trap; that there must be something, some motive hereunknown to him; that, perhaps, everything was in readiness and inanother moment would break upon him...
He went straight to the point at once, rose from his seat and took hiscap.
"Porfiry Petrovitch," he began resolutely, though with considerableirritation, "yesterday you expressed a desire that I should come to youfor some inquiries" (he laid special stress on the word "inquiries"). "Ihave come and if you have anything to ask me, ask it, and if not, allowme to withdraw. I have no time to spare.... I have to be at the funeralof that man who was run over, of whom you... know also," he added,feeling angry at once at having made this addition and more irritated athis anger. "I am sick of it al
l, do you hear? and have long been. It'spartly what made me ill. In short," he shouted, feeling that the phraseabout his illness was still more out of place, "in short, kindly examineme or let me go, at once. And if you must examine me, do so in theproper form! I will not allow you to do so otherwise, and so meanwhile,good-bye, as we have evidently nothing to keep us now."
"Good heavens! What do you mean? What shall I question you about?"cackled Porfiry Petrovitch with a change of tone, instantly leaving offlaughing. "Please don't disturb yourself," he began fidgeting from placeto place and fussily making Raskolnikov sit down. "There's no hurry,there's no hurry, it's all nonsense. Oh, no, I'm very glad you've cometo see me at last... I look upon you simply as a visitor. And as formy confounded laughter, please excuse it, Rodion Romanovitch. RodionRomanovitch? That is your name?... It's my nerves, you tickled meso with your witty observation; I assure you, sometimes I shake withlaughter like an india-rubber ball for half an hour at a time.... I'moften afraid of an attack of paralysis. Do sit down. Please do, or Ishall think you are angry..."
Raskolnikov did not speak; he listened, watching him, still frowningangrily. He did sit down, but still held his cap.
"I must tell you one thing about myself, my dear Rodion Romanovitch,"Porfiry Petrovitch continued, moving about the room and again avoidinghis visitor's eyes. "You see, I'm a bachelor, a man of no consequenceand not used to society; besides, I have nothing before me, I'm set, I'mrunning to seed and... and have you noticed, Rodion Romanovitch, that inour Petersburg circles, if two clever men meet who are not intimate, butrespect each other, like you and me, it takes them half an hour beforethey can find a subject for conversation--they are dumb, they sitopposite each other and feel awkward. Everyone has subjects ofconversation, ladies for instance... people in high society always havetheir subjects of conversation, _c'est de rigueur_, but people of themiddle sort like us, thinking people that is, are always tongue-tiedand awkward. What is the reason of it? Whether it is the lack of publicinterest, or whether it is we are so honest we don't want to deceive oneanother, I don't know. What do you think? Do put down your cap, itlooks as if you were just going, it makes me uncomfortable... I am sodelighted..."
Raskolnikov put down his cap and continued listening in silence witha serious frowning face to the vague and empty chatter of PorfiryPetrovitch. "Does he really want to distract my attention with his sillybabble?"
"I can't offer you coffee here; but why not spend five minutes with afriend?" Porfiry pattered on, "and you know all these officialduties... please don't mind my running up and down, excuse it, my dearfellow, I am very much afraid of offending you, but exercise isabsolutely indispensable for me. I'm always sitting and so glad to bemoving about for five minutes... I suffer from my sedentary life... Ialways intend to join a gymnasium; they say that officials of all ranks,even Privy Councillors, may be seen skipping gaily there; there you haveit, modern science... yes, yes.... But as for my duties here, inquiriesand all such formalities... you mentioned inquiries yourself just now...I assure you these interrogations are sometimes more embarrassing forthe interrogator than for the interrogated.... You made the observationyourself just now very aptly and wittily." (Raskolnikov had made noobservation of the kind.) "One gets into a muddle! A regular muddle! Onekeeps harping on the same note, like a drum! There is to be a reform andwe shall be called by a different name, at least, he-he-he! And as forour legal tradition, as you so wittily called it, I thoroughly agreewith you. Every prisoner on trial, even the rudest peasant, knows thatthey begin by disarming him with irrelevant questions (as you so happilyput it) and then deal him a knock-down blow, he-he-he!--your felicitouscomparison, he-he! So you really imagined that I meant by 'governmentquarters'... he-he! You are an ironical person. Come. I won't go on! Ah,by the way, yes! One word leads to another. You spoke of formality justnow, apropos of the inquiry, you know. But what's the use of formality?In many cases it's nonsense. Sometimes one has a friendly chat and getsa good deal more out of it. One can always fall back on formality, allowme to assure you. And after all, what does it amount to? An examininglawyer cannot be bounded by formality at every step. The work ofinvestigation is, so to speak, a free art in its own way, he-he-he!"
Porfiry Petrovitch took breath a moment. He had simply babbled onuttering empty phrases, letting slip a few enigmatic words and againreverting to incoherence. He was almost running about the room, movinghis fat little legs quicker and quicker, looking at the ground, with hisright hand behind his back, while with his left making gesticulationsthat were extraordinarily incongruous with his words. Raskolnikovsuddenly noticed that as he ran about the room he seemed twice to stopfor a moment near the door, as though he were listening.
"Is he expecting anything?"
"You are certainly quite right about it," Porfiry began gaily, lookingwith extraordinary simplicity at Raskolnikov (which startled him andinstantly put him on his guard); "certainly quite right in laughing sowittily at our legal forms, he-he! Some of these elaborate psychologicalmethods are exceedingly ridiculous and perhaps useless, if one adherestoo closely to the forms. Yes... I am talking of forms again. Well, ifI recognise, or more strictly speaking, if I suspect someone or other tobe a criminal in any case entrusted to me... you're reading for the law,of course, Rodion Romanovitch?"
"Yes, I was..."
"Well, then it is a precedent for you for the future--though don'tsuppose I should venture to instruct you after the articles you publishabout crime! No, I simply make bold to state it by way of fact, if Itook this man or that for a criminal, why, I ask, should I worry himprematurely, even though I had evidence against him? In one case I maybe bound, for instance, to arrest a man at once, but another may be inquite a different position, you know, so why shouldn't I let him walkabout the town a bit? he-he-he! But I see you don't quite understand, soI'll give you a clearer example. If I put him in prison too soon, Imay very likely give him, so to speak, moral support, he-he! You'relaughing?"
Raskolnikov had no idea of laughing. He was sitting with compressedlips, his feverish eyes fixed on Porfiry Petrovitch's.
"Yet that is the case, with some types especially, for men are sodifferent. You say 'evidence'. Well, there may be evidence. Butevidence, you know, can generally be taken two ways. I am an examininglawyer and a weak man, I confess it. I should like to make a proof, soto say, mathematically clear. I should like to make a chain of evidencesuch as twice two are four, it ought to be a direct, irrefutable proof!And if I shut him up too soon--even though I might be convinced _he_was the man, I should very likely be depriving myself of the means ofgetting further evidence against him. And how? By giving him, so tospeak, a definite position, I shall put him out of suspense and set hismind at rest, so that he will retreat into his shell. They say that atSevastopol, soon after Alma, the clever people were in a terrible frightthat the enemy would attack openly and take Sevastopol at once. But whenthey saw that the enemy preferred a regular siege, they were delighted,I am told and reassured, for the thing would drag on for two months atleast. You're laughing, you don't believe me again? Of course, you'reright, too. You're right, you're right. These are special cases, Iadmit. But you must observe this, my dear Rodion Romanovitch, thegeneral case, the case for which all legal forms and rules are intended,for which they are calculated and laid down in books, does not exist atall, for the reason that every case, every crime, for instance, so soonas it actually occurs, at once becomes a thoroughly special case andsometimes a case unlike any that's gone before. Very comic cases of thatsort sometimes occur. If I leave one man quite alone, if I don't touchhim and don't worry him, but let him know or at least suspect everymoment that I know all about it and am watching him day and night, andif he is in continual suspicion and terror, he'll be bound to lose hishead. He'll come of himself, or maybe do something which will make it asplain as twice two are four--it's delightful. It may be so with a simplepeasant, but with one of our sort, an intelligent man cultivated on acertain side, it's a dead certainty. For, my dear fellow, it
's a veryimportant matter to know on what side a man is cultivated. And thenthere are nerves, there are nerves, you have overlooked them! Why, theyare all sick, nervous and irritable!... And then how they all sufferfrom spleen! That I assure you is a regular gold-mine for us. And it'sno anxiety to me, his running about the town free! Let him, let him walkabout for a bit! I know well enough that I've caught him and that hewon't escape me. Where could he escape to, he-he? Abroad, perhaps? APole will escape abroad, but not here, especially as I am watchingand have taken measures. Will he escape into the depths of the countryperhaps? But you know, peasants live there, real rude Russian peasants.A modern cultivated man would prefer prison to living with suchstrangers as our peasants. He-he! But that's all nonsense, and onthe surface. It's not merely that he has nowhere to run to, he is_psychologically_ unable to escape me, he-he! What an expression!Through a law of nature he can't escape me if he had anywhere to go.Have you seen a butterfly round a candle? That's how he will keepcircling and circling round me. Freedom will lose its attractions. He'llbegin to brood, he'll weave a tangle round himself, he'll worry himselfto death! What's more he will provide me with a mathematical proof--if Ionly give him long enough interval.... And he'll keep circling roundme, getting nearer and nearer and then--flop! He'll fly straight into mymouth and I'll swallow him, and that will be very amusing, he-he-he! Youdon't believe me?"
Raskolnikov made no reply; he sat pale and motionless, still gazing withthe same intensity into Porfiry's face.
"It's a lesson," he thought, turning cold. "This is beyond the catplaying with a mouse, like yesterday. He can't be showing off his powerwith no motive... prompting me; he is far too clever for that... he musthave another object. What is it? It's all nonsense, my friend, you arepretending, to scare me! You've no proofs and the man I saw had noreal existence. You simply want to make me lose my head, to work me upbeforehand and so to crush me. But you are wrong, you won't do it! Butwhy give me such a hint? Is he reckoning on my shattered nerves? No, myfriend, you are wrong, you won't do it even though you have some trapfor me... let us see what you have in store for me."
And he braced himself to face a terrible and unknown ordeal. At timeshe longed to fall on Porfiry and strangle him. This anger was what hedreaded from the beginning. He felt that his parched lips were fleckedwith foam, his heart was throbbing. But he was still determined not tospeak till the right moment. He realised that this was the bestpolicy in his position, because instead of saying too much he would beirritating his enemy by his silence and provoking him into speaking toofreely. Anyhow, this was what he hoped for.
"No, I see you don't believe me, you think I am playing a harmless jokeon you," Porfiry began again, getting more and more lively, chucklingat every instant and again pacing round the room. "And to be sure you'reright: God has given me a figure that can awaken none but comic ideas inother people; a buffoon; but let me tell you, and I repeat it, excusean old man, my dear Rodion Romanovitch, you are a man still young, so tosay, in your first youth and so you put intellect above everything, likeall young people. Playful wit and abstract arguments fascinate you andthat's for all the world like the old Austrian _Hof-kriegsrath_, asfar as I can judge of military matters, that is: on paper they'd beatenNapoleon and taken him prisoner, and there in their study they worked itall out in the cleverest fashion, but look you, General Mack surrenderedwith all his army, he-he-he! I see, I see, Rodion Romanovitch, you arelaughing at a civilian like me, taking examples out of military history!But I can't help it, it's my weakness. I am fond of military science.And I'm ever so fond of reading all military histories. I've certainlymissed my proper career. I ought to have been in the army, upon myword I ought. I shouldn't have been a Napoleon, but I might have been amajor, he-he! Well, I'll tell you the whole truth, my dear fellow, aboutthis _special case_, I mean: actual fact and a man's temperament, mydear sir, are weighty matters and it's astonishing how they sometimesdeceive the sharpest calculation! I--listen to an old man--am speakingseriously, Rodion Romanovitch" (as he said this Porfiry Petrovitch, whowas scarcely five-and-thirty, actually seemed to have grown old; evenhis voice changed and he seemed to shrink together) "Moreover, I'ma candid man... am I a candid man or not? What do you say? I fancy Ireally am: I tell you these things for nothing and don't even expect areward for it, he-he! Well, to proceed, wit in my opinion is a splendidthing, it is, so to say, an adornment of nature and a consolation oflife, and what tricks it can play! So that it sometimes is hard for apoor examining lawyer to know where he is, especially when he's liableto be carried away by his own fancy, too, for you know he is a man afterall! But the poor fellow is saved by the criminal's temperament, worseluck for him! But young people carried away by their own wit don't thinkof that 'when they overstep all obstacles,' as you wittily and cleverlyexpressed it yesterday. He will lie--that is, the man who is a _specialcase_, the incognito, and he will lie well, in the cleverest fashion;you might think he would triumph and enjoy the fruits of his wit, but atthe most interesting, the most flagrant moment he will faint. Of coursethere may be illness and a stuffy room as well, but anyway! Anyway he'sgiven us the idea! He lied incomparably, but he didn't reckon on histemperament. That's what betrays him! Another time he will be carriedaway by his playful wit into making fun of the man who suspects him, hewill turn pale as it were on purpose to mislead, but his paleness willbe _too natural_, too much like the real thing, again he has given usan idea! Though his questioner may be deceived at first, he will thinkdifferently next day if he is not a fool, and, of course, it is likethat at every step! He puts himself forward where he is not wanted,speaks continually when he ought to keep silent, brings in all sorts ofallegorical allusions, he-he! Comes and asks why didn't you take me longago? he-he-he! And that can happen, you know, with the cleverest man,the psychologist, the literary man. The temperament reflects everythinglike a mirror! Gaze into it and admire what you see! But why are you sopale, Rodion Romanovitch? Is the room stuffy? Shall I open the window?"
"Oh, don't trouble, please," cried Raskolnikov and he suddenly brokeinto a laugh. "Please don't trouble."
Porfiry stood facing him, paused a moment and suddenly he too laughed.Raskolnikov got up from the sofa, abruptly checking his hystericallaughter.
"Porfiry Petrovitch," he began, speaking loudly and distinctly, thoughhis legs trembled and he could scarcely stand. "I see clearly at lastthat you actually suspect me of murdering that old woman and her sisterLizaveta. Let me tell you for my part that I am sick of this. If youfind that you have a right to prosecute me legally, to arrest me, thenprosecute me, arrest me. But I will not let myself be jeered at to myface and worried..."
His lips trembled, his eyes glowed with fury and he could not restrainhis voice.
"I won't allow it!" he shouted, bringing his fist down on the table. "Doyou hear that, Porfiry Petrovitch? I won't allow it."
"Good heavens! What does it mean?" cried Porfiry Petrovitch, apparentlyquite frightened. "Rodion Romanovitch, my dear fellow, what is thematter with you?"
"I won't allow it," Raskolnikov shouted again.
"Hush, my dear man! They'll hear and come in. Just think, what could wesay to them?" Porfiry Petrovitch whispered in horror, bringing his faceclose to Raskolnikov's.
"I won't allow it, I won't allow it," Raskolnikov repeated mechanically,but he too spoke in a sudden whisper.
Porfiry turned quickly and ran to open the window.
"Some fresh air! And you must have some water, my dear fellow. You'reill!" and he was running to the door to call for some when he found adecanter of water in the corner. "Come, drink a little," he whispered,rushing up to him with the decanter. "It will be sure to do you good."
Porfiry Petrovitch's alarm and sympathy were so natural that Raskolnikovwas silent and began looking at him with wild curiosity. He did not takethe water, however.
"Rodion Romanovitch, my dear fellow, you'll drive yourself out of yourmind, I assure you, ach, ach! Have some water, do drink a little."
He forced him
to take the glass. Raskolnikov raised it mechanically tohis lips, but set it on the table again with disgust.
"Yes, you've had a little attack! You'll bring back your illness again,my dear fellow," Porfiry Petrovitch cackled with friendly sympathy,though he still looked rather disconcerted. "Good heavens, you musttake more care of yourself! Dmitri Prokofitch was here, came to see meyesterday--I know, I know, I've a nasty, ironical temper, but what theymade of it!... Good heavens, he came yesterday after you'd been. Wedined and he talked and talked away, and I could only throw up my handsin despair! Did he come from you? But do sit down, for mercy's sake, sitdown!"
"No, not from me, but I knew he went to you and why he went,"Raskolnikov answered sharply.
"You knew?"
"I knew. What of it?"
"Why this, Rodion Romanovitch, that I know more than that about you;I know about everything. I know how you went _to take a flat_ at nightwhen it was dark and how you rang the bell and asked about the blood, sothat the workmen and the porter did not know what to make of it. Yes, Iunderstand your state of mind at that time... but you'll drive yourselfmad like that, upon my word! You'll lose your head! You're full ofgenerous indignation at the wrongs you've received, first from destiny,and then from the police officers, and so you rush from one thing toanother to force them to speak out and make an end of it all, becauseyou are sick of all this suspicion and foolishness. That's so, isn'tit? I have guessed how you feel, haven't I? Only in that way you'lllose your head and Razumihin's, too; he's too _good_ a man for sucha position, you must know that. You are ill and he is good and yourillness is infectious for him... I'll tell you about it when you aremore yourself.... But do sit down, for goodness' sake. Please rest, youlook shocking, do sit down."
Raskolnikov sat down; he no longer shivered, he was hot all over. Inamazement he listened with strained attention to Porfiry Petrovitch whostill seemed frightened as he looked after him with friendly solicitude.But he did not believe a word he said, though he felt a strangeinclination to believe. Porfiry's unexpected words about the flat hadutterly overwhelmed him. "How can it be, he knows about the flat then,"he thought suddenly, "and he tells it me himself!"
"Yes, in our legal practice there was a case almost exactly similar, acase of morbid psychology," Porfiry went on quickly. "A man confessed tomurder and how he kept it up! It was a regular hallucination; he broughtforward facts, he imposed upon everyone and why? He had been partly, butonly partly, unintentionally the cause of a murder and when he knew thathe had given the murderers the opportunity, he sank into dejection, itgot on his mind and turned his brain, he began imagining things and hepersuaded himself that he was the murderer. But at last the High Courtof Appeal went into it and the poor fellow was acquitted and put underproper care. Thanks to the Court of Appeal! Tut-tut-tut! Why, my dearfellow, you may drive yourself into delirium if you have the impulseto work upon your nerves, to go ringing bells at night and asking aboutblood! I've studied all this morbid psychology in my practice. A manis sometimes tempted to jump out of a window or from a belfry. Just thesame with bell-ringing.... It's all illness, Rodion Romanovitch! Youhave begun to neglect your illness. You should consult an experienceddoctor, what's the good of that fat fellow? You are lightheaded! Youwere delirious when you did all this!"
For a moment Raskolnikov felt everything going round.
"Is it possible, is it possible," flashed through his mind, "that he isstill lying? He can't be, he can't be." He rejected that idea, feelingto what a degree of fury it might drive him, feeling that that furymight drive him mad.
"I was not delirious. I knew what I was doing," he cried, strainingevery faculty to penetrate Porfiry's game, "I was quite myself, do youhear?"
"Yes, I hear and understand. You said yesterday you were not delirious,you were particularly emphatic about it! I understand all you can tellme! A-ach!... Listen, Rodion Romanovitch, my dear fellow. If you wereactually a criminal, or were somehow mixed up in this damnable business,would you insist that you were not delirious but in full possessionof your faculties? And so emphatically and persistently? Would it bepossible? Quite impossible, to my thinking. If you had anything onyour conscience, you certainly ought to insist that you were delirious.That's so, isn't it?"
There was a note of slyness in this inquiry. Raskolnikov drew back onthe sofa as Porfiry bent over him and stared in silent perplexity athim.
"Another thing about Razumihin--you certainly ought to have said that hecame of his own accord, to have concealed your part in it! But you don'tconceal it! You lay stress on his coming at your instigation."
Raskolnikov had not done so. A chill went down his back.
"You keep telling lies," he said slowly and weakly, twisting his lipsinto a sickly smile, "you are trying again to show that you know allmy game, that you know all I shall say beforehand," he said, conscioushimself that he was not weighing his words as he ought. "You want tofrighten me... or you are simply laughing at me..."
He still stared at him as he said this and again there was a light ofintense hatred in his eyes.
"You keep lying," he said. "You know perfectly well that the bestpolicy for the criminal is to tell the truth as nearly as possible... toconceal as little as possible. I don't believe you!"
"What a wily person you are!" Porfiry tittered, "there's no catchingyou; you've a perfect monomania. So you don't believe me? But still youdo believe me, you believe a quarter; I'll soon make you believe thewhole, because I have a sincere liking for you and genuinely wish yougood."
Raskolnikov's lips trembled.
"Yes, I do," went on Porfiry, touching Raskolnikov's arm genially, "youmust take care of your illness. Besides, your mother and sister are herenow; you must think of them. You must soothe and comfort them and you donothing but frighten them..."
"What has that to do with you? How do you know it? What concern is it ofyours? You are keeping watch on me and want to let me know it?"
"Good heavens! Why, I learnt it all from you yourself! You don'tnotice that in your excitement you tell me and others everything. FromRazumihin, too, I learnt a number of interesting details yesterday. No,you interrupted me, but I must tell you that, for all your wit, yoursuspiciousness makes you lose the common-sense view of things. To returnto bell-ringing, for instance. I, an examining lawyer, have betrayed aprecious thing like that, a real fact (for it is a fact worth having),and you see nothing in it! Why, if I had the slightest suspicion of you,should I have acted like that? No, I should first have disarmed yoursuspicions and not let you see I knew of that fact, should have divertedyour attention and suddenly have dealt you a knock-down blow (yourexpression) saying: 'And what were you doing, sir, pray, at ten ornearly eleven at the murdered woman's flat and why did you ring the belland why did you ask about blood? And why did you invite the portersto go with you to the police station, to the lieutenant?' That's howI ought to have acted if I had a grain of suspicion of you. I ought tohave taken your evidence in due form, searched your lodging and perhapshave arrested you, too... so I have no suspicion of you, since I havenot done that! But you can't look at it normally and you see nothing, Isay again."
Raskolnikov started so that Porfiry Petrovitch could not fail toperceive it.
"You are lying all the while," he cried, "I don't know your object,but you are lying. You did not speak like that just now and I cannot bemistaken!"
"I am lying?" Porfiry repeated, apparently incensed, but preservinga good-humoured and ironical face, as though he were not in the leastconcerned at Raskolnikov's opinion of him. "I am lying... but how didI treat you just now, I, the examining lawyer? Prompting you and givingyou every means for your defence; illness, I said, delirium, injury,melancholy and the police officers and all the rest of it? Ah! He-he-he!Though, indeed, all those psychological means of defence are not veryreliable and cut both ways: illness, delirium, I don't remember--that'sall right, but why, my good sir, in your illness and in your deliriumwere you haunted by just those delusions and not by any others? Theremay h
ave been others, eh? He-he-he!"
Raskolnikov looked haughtily and contemptuously at him.
"Briefly," he said loudly and imperiously, rising to his feet and in sodoing pushing Porfiry back a little, "briefly, I want to know, do youacknowledge me perfectly free from suspicion or not? Tell me, PorfiryPetrovitch, tell me once for all and make haste!"
"What a business I'm having with you!" cried Porfiry with a perfectlygood-humoured, sly and composed face. "And why do you want to know, whydo you want to know so much, since they haven't begun to worry you? Why,you are like a child asking for matches! And why are you so uneasy? Whydo you force yourself upon us, eh? He-he-he!"
"I repeat," Raskolnikov cried furiously, "that I can't put up with it!"
"With what? Uncertainty?" interrupted Porfiry.
"Don't jeer at me! I won't have it! I tell you I won't have it. I can'tand I won't, do you hear, do you hear?" he shouted, bringing his fistdown on the table again.
"Hush! Hush! They'll overhear! I warn you seriously, take care ofyourself. I am not joking," Porfiry whispered, but this time there wasnot the look of old womanish good nature and alarm in his face. Nowhe was peremptory, stern, frowning and for once laying aside allmystification.
But this was only for an instant. Raskolnikov, bewildered, suddenly fellinto actual frenzy, but, strange to say, he again obeyed the command tospeak quietly, though he was in a perfect paroxysm of fury.
"I will not allow myself to be tortured," he whispered, instantlyrecognising with hatred that he could not help obeying the command anddriven to even greater fury by the thought. "Arrest me, search me, butkindly act in due form and don't play with me! Don't dare!"
"Don't worry about the form," Porfiry interrupted with the same slysmile, as it were, gloating with enjoyment over Raskolnikov. "I invitedyou to see me quite in a friendly way."
"I don't want your friendship and I spit on it! Do you hear? And, here,I take my cap and go. What will you say now if you mean to arrest me?"
He took up his cap and went to the door.
"And won't you see my little surprise?" chuckled Porfiry, again takinghim by the arm and stopping him at the door.
He seemed to become more playful and good-humoured which maddenedRaskolnikov.
"What surprise?" he asked, standing still and looking at Porfiry inalarm.
"My little surprise, it's sitting there behind the door, he-he-he!"(He pointed to the locked door.) "I locked him in that he should notescape."
"What is it? Where? What?..."
Raskolnikov walked to the door and would have opened it, but it waslocked.
"It's locked, here is the key!"
And he brought a key out of his pocket.
"You are lying," roared Raskolnikov without restraint, "you lie, youdamned punchinello!" and he rushed at Porfiry who retreated to the otherdoor, not at all alarmed.
"I understand it all! You are lying and mocking so that I may betraymyself to you..."
"Why, you could not betray yourself any further, my dear RodionRomanovitch. You are in a passion. Don't shout, I shall call theclerks."
"You are lying! Call the clerks! You knew I was ill and tried to workme into a frenzy to make me betray myself, that was your object! Produceyour facts! I understand it all. You've no evidence, you have onlywretched rubbishly suspicions like Zametov's! You knew my character, youwanted to drive me to fury and then to knock me down with priests anddeputies.... Are you waiting for them? eh! What are you waiting for?Where are they? Produce them?"
"Why deputies, my good man? What things people will imagine! And to doso would not be acting in form as you say, you don't know the business,my dear fellow.... And there's no escaping form, as you see," Porfirymuttered, listening at the door through which a noise could be heard.
"Ah, they're coming," cried Raskolnikov. "You've sent for them! Youexpected them! Well, produce them all: your deputies, your witnesses,what you like!... I am ready!"
But at this moment a strange incident occurred, something so unexpectedthat neither Raskolnikov nor Porfiry Petrovitch could have looked forsuch a conclusion to their interview.