Death, comes next, andis followed by Hell. We talked about this matter when we met, and itimpressed her very much.”
“Do you believe all this?” asked Muishkin, looking curiously at hiscompanion.
“I both believe it and explain it. I am but a poor creature, a beggar,an atom in the scale of humanity. Who has the least respect forLebedeff? He is a target for all the world, the butt of any fool whochooses to kick him. But in interpreting revelation I am the equalof anyone, great as he may be! Such is the power of the mind andthe spirit. I have made a lordly personage tremble, as he sat in hisarmchair... only by talking to him of things concerning the spirit.Two years ago, on Easter Eve, His Excellency Nil Alexeyovitch, whosesubordinate I was then, wished to hear what I had to say, and sent amessage by Peter Zakkaritch to ask me to go to his private room. ‘Theytell me you expound the prophecies relating to Antichrist,’ said he,when we were alone. ‘Is that so?’ ‘Yes,’ I answered unhesitatingly, andI began to give some comments on the Apostle’s allegorical vision. Atfirst he smiled, but when we reached the numerical computations andcorrespondences, he trembled, and turned pale. Then he begged me toclose the book, and sent me away, promising to put my name on the rewardlist. That took place as I said on the eve of Easter, and eight dayslater his soul returned to God.”
“What?”
“It is the truth. One evening after dinner he stumbled as he steppedout of his carriage. He fell, and struck his head on the curb, and diedimmediately. He was seventy-three years of age, and had a red face, andwhite hair; he deluged himself with scent, and was always smiling likea child. Peter Zakkaritch recalled my interview with him, and said, ‘_youforetold his death._’”
The prince rose from his seat, and Lebedeff, surprised to see hisguest preparing to go so soon, remarked: “You are not interested?” in arespectful tone.
“I am not very well, and my head aches. Doubtless the effect of thejourney,” replied the prince, frowning.
“You should go into the country,” said Lebedeff timidly.
The prince seemed to be considering the suggestion.
“You see, I am going into the country myself in three days, with mychildren and belongings. The little one is delicate; she needs changeof air; and during our absence this house will be done up. I am going toPavlofsk.”
“You are going to Pavlofsk too?” asked the prince sharply. “Everybodyseems to be going there. Have you a house in that neighbourhood?”
“I don’t know of many people going to Pavlofsk, and as for the house,Ivan Ptitsin has let me one of his villas rather cheaply. It is apleasant place, lying on a hill surrounded by trees, and one can livethere for a mere song. There is good music to be heard, so no wonder itis popular. I shall stay in the lodge. As to the villa itself...”
“Have you let it?”
“N-no--not exactly.”
“Let it to me,” said the prince.
Now this was precisely what Lebedeff had made up his mind to do in thelast three minutes. Not that he had any difficulty in finding a tenant;in fact the house was occupied at present by a chance visitor, who hadtold Lebedeff that he would perhaps take it for the summer months. Theclerk knew very well that this “_perhaps_” meant “_certainly_,” but as hethought he could make more out of a tenant like the prince, he feltjustified in speaking vaguely about the present inhabitant’s intentions.“This is quite a coincidence,” thought he, and when the subject of pricewas mentioned, he made a gesture with his hand, as if to waive away aquestion of so little importance.
“Oh well, as you like!” said Muishkin. “I will think it over. You shalllose nothing!”
They were walking slowly across the garden.
“But if you... I could...” stammered Lebedeff, “if... if you please,prince, tell you something on the subject which would interest you, I amsure.” He spoke in wheedling tones, and wriggled as he walked along.
Muishkin stopped short.
“Daria Alexeyevna also has a villa at Pavlofsk.”
“Well?”
“A certain person is very friendly with her, and intends to visit herpretty often.”
“Well?”
“Aglaya Ivanovna...”
“Oh stop, Lebedeff!” interposed Muishkin, feeling as if he had beentouched on an open wound. “That... that has nothing to do with me. Ishould like to know when you are going to start. The sooner the betteras far as I am concerned, for I am at an hotel.”
They had left the garden now, and were crossing the yard on their way tothe gate.
“Well, leave your hotel at once and come here; then we can all gotogether to Pavlofsk the day after tomorrow.”
“I will think about it,” said the prince dreamily, and went off.
The clerk stood looking after his guest, struck by his suddenabsent-mindedness. He had not even remembered to say goodbye, andLebedeff was the more surprised at the omission, as he knew byexperience how courteous the prince usually was.
III.
It was now close on twelve o’clock.
The prince knew that if he called at the Epanchins’ now he would onlyfind the general, and that the latter might probably carry him straightoff to Pavlofsk with him; whereas there was one visit he was mostanxious to make without delay.
So at the risk of missing General Epanchin altogether, and thuspostponing his visit to Pavlofsk for a day, at least, the prince decidedto go and look for the house he desired to find.
The visit he was about to pay was, in some respects, a risky one. He wasin two minds about it, but knowing that the house was in the Gorohovaya,not far from the Sadovaya, he determined to go in that direction, and totry to make up his mind on the way.
Arrived at the point where the Gorohovaya crosses the Sadovaya, he wassurprised to find how excessively agitated he was. He had no idea thathis heart could beat so painfully.
One house in the Gorohovaya began to attract his attention long beforehe reached it, and the prince remembered afterwards that he had saidto himself: “That is the house, I’m sure of it.” He came up to it quitecurious to discover whether he had guessed right, and felt that he wouldbe disagreeably impressed to find that he had actually done so. Thehouse was a large gloomy-looking structure, without the slightest claimto architectural beauty, in colour a dirty green. There are a few ofthese old houses, built towards the end of the last century, stillstanding in that part of St. Petersburg, and showing little changefrom their original form and colour. They are solidly built, and areremarkable for the thickness of their walls, and for the fewnessof their windows, many of which are covered by gratings. On theground-floor there is usually a money-changer’s shop, and the ownerlives over it. Without as well as within, the houses seem inhospitableand mysterious--an impression which is difficult to explain, unless ithas something to do with the actual architectural style. These housesare almost exclusively inhabited by the merchant class.
Arrived at the gate, the prince looked up at the legend over it, whichran:
“House of Rogojin, hereditary and honourable citizen.”
He hesitated no longer; but opened the glazed door at the bottom of theouter stairs and made his way up to the second storey. The place wasdark and gloomy-looking; the walls of the stone staircase were painteda dull red. Rogojin and his mother and brother occupied the whole ofthe second floor. The servant who opened the door to Muishkin led him,without taking his name, through several rooms and up and down manysteps until they arrived at a door, where he knocked.
Parfen Rogojin opened the door himself.
On seeing the prince he became deadly white, and apparently fixed to theground, so that he was more like a marble statue than a human being. Theprince had expected some surprise, but Rogojin evidently considered hisvisit an impossible and miraculous event. He stared with an expressionalmost of terror, and his lips twisted into a bewildered smile.
“Parfen! perhaps my visit is ill-timed. I--I can go away again if youlike,” said Muishkin at last, rather embarrassed.
“No, no; it’s all right,
come in,” said Parfen, recollecting himself.
They were evidently on quite familiar terms. In Moscow they had had manyoccasions of meeting; indeed, some few of those meetings were but toovividly impressed upon their memories. They had not met now, however,for three months.
The deathlike pallor, and a sort of slight convulsion about the lips,had not left Rogojin’s face. Though he welcomed his guest, he was stillobviously much disturbed. As he invited the prince to sit down near thetable, the latter happened to turn towards him, and was startled by thestrange expression on his face. A painful recollection flashed intohis mind. He stood for a time, looking straight at Rogojin, whose eyesseemed to blaze like fire. At last Rogojin smiled, though he stilllooked agitated and shaken.
“What are you staring at me like that for?” he muttered. “Sit down.”
The prince took a chair.
“Parfen,” he said, “tell me honestly, did you know that I was coming toPetersburg or no?”
“Oh, I supposed you were coming,” the other replied, smilingsarcastically, “and I was right in my supposition, you see; but how was Ito know that you would come _today?_”
A certain strangeness and impatience in his manner impressed the princevery forcibly.
“And if you had known that I was coming today, why be so irritated aboutit?” he asked, in quiet surprise.
“Why did you ask me?”
“Because when I jumped out of the train this morning, two eyes glared atme just as yours did a moment since.”
“Ha! and whose eyes may they have been?” said Rogojin, suspiciously. Itseemed to the prince that he was trembling.
“I don’t know; I thought it was a hallucination. I often havehallucinations nowadays. I feel just as I did five years ago when myfits were about to come on.”
“Well, perhaps it was a hallucination, I don’t know,” said Parfen.
He tried to give the prince an affectionate smile, and it seemed to thelatter as though in this smile of his something had broken, and that hecould not mend it, try as he would.
“Shall you go abroad again then?” he asked, and suddenly added, “Do youremember how we came up in the train from Pskoff together? You and yourcloak and leggings, eh?”
And Rogojin burst out laughing, this time with unconcealed malice, asthough he were glad that he had been able to find an opportunity forgiving vent to it.
“Have you quite taken up your quarters here?” asked the prince
“Yes, I’m at home. Where else should I go to?”
“We haven’t met for some time. Meanwhile I have heard things about youwhich I should not have believed to be possible.”
“What of that? People will say anything,” said Rogojin drily.
“At all events, you’ve disbanded your troop--and you are living in yourown house instead of being fast and loose about the place; that’s allvery good. Is this house all yours, or joint property?”
“It is my mother’s. You get to her apartments by that passage.”
“Where’s your brother?”
“In the other wing.”
“Is he married?”
“Widower. Why do you want to know all this?”
The prince looked at him, but said nothing. He had suddenly relapsedinto musing, and had probably not heard the question at all. Rogojin didnot insist upon an answer, and there was silence for a few moments.
“I guessed which was your house from a hundred yards off,” said theprince at last.
“Why so?”
“I don’t quite know. Your house has the aspect of yourself and all yourfamily; it bears the stamp of the Rogojin life; but ask me why I thinkso, and I can tell you nothing. It is nonsense, of course. I am nervousabout this kind of thing troubling me so much. I had never beforeimagined what sort of a house you would live in, and yet no sooner did Iset eyes on this one than I said to myself that it must be yours.”
“Really!” said Rogojin vaguely, not taking in what the prince meant byhis rather obscure remarks.
The room they were now sitting in was a large one, lofty but dark, wellfurnished, principally with writing-tables and desks covered with papersand books. A wide sofa covered with red morocco evidently served Rogojinfor a bed. On the table beside which the prince had been invited to seathimself lay some books; one containing a marker where the reader hadleft off, was a volume of Solovieff’s History. Some oil-paintings inworn gilded frames hung on the walls, but it was impossible to make outwhat subjects they represented, so blackened were they by smoke and age.One, a life-sized portrait, attracted the prince’s attention. It showeda man of about fifty, wearing a long riding-coat of German cut. He hadtwo medals on his breast; his beard was white, short and thin; his faceyellow and wrinkled, with a sly, suspicious expression in the eyes.
“That is your father, is it not?” asked the prince.
“Yes, it is,” replied Rogojin with an unpleasant smile, as if hehad expected his guest to ask the question, and then to make somedisagreeable remark.
“Was he one of the Old Believers?”
“No, he went to church, but to tell the truth he really preferred theold religion. This was his study and is now mine. Why did you ask if hewere an Old Believer?”
“Are you going to be married here?”
“Ye-yes!” replied Rogojin, starting at the unexpected question.
“Soon?”
“You know yourself it does not depend on me.”
“Parfen, I am not your enemy, and I do not intend to oppose yourintentions in any way. I repeat this to you now just as I said it to youonce before on a very similar occasion. When you were arranging for yourprojected marriage in Moscow, I did not interfere with you--you know Idid not. That first time she fled to me from you, from the very altaralmost, and begged me to ‘save her from you.’ Afterwards she ran awayfrom me again, and you found her and arranged your marriage with heronce more; and now, I hear, she has run away from you and come toPetersburg. Is it true? Lebedeff wrote me to this effect, and that’swhy I came here. That you had once more arranged matters with NastasiaPhilipovna I only learned last night in the train from a friend ofyours, Zaleshoff--if you wish to know.
“I confess I came here with an object. I wished to persuade Nastasiato go abroad for her health; she requires it. Both mind and body need achange badly. I did not intend to take her abroad myself. I was going toarrange for her to go without me. Now I tell you honestly, Parfen, if itis true that all is made up between you, I will not so much as set eyesupon her, and I will never even come to see you again.
“You know quite well that I am telling the truth, because I have alwaysbeen frank with you. I have never concealed my own opinion from you.I have always told you that I consider a marriage between you and herwould be ruin to her. You would also be ruined, and perhaps even morehopelessly. If this marriage were to be broken off again, I admit Ishould be greatly pleased; but at the same time I have not the slightestintention of trying to part you. You may be quite easy in your mind,and you need not suspect me. You know yourself whether I was ever reallyyour rival or not, even when she ran away and came to me.
“There, you are laughing at me--I know why you laugh. It is perfectlytrue that we lived apart from one another all the time, in differenttowns. I told you before that I did not love her with love, but withpity! You said then that you understood me; did you really understandme or not? What hatred there is in your eyes at this moment! I cameto relieve your mind, because you are dear to me also. I love youvery much, Parfen; and now I shall go away and never come back again.Goodbye.”
The prince rose.
“Stay a little,” said Parfen, not leaving his chair and resting his headon his right hand. “I haven’t seen you for a long time.”
The prince sat down again. Both were silent for a few moments.
“When you are not with me I hate you, Lef Nicolaievitch. I have loathedyou every day of these three months since I last saw you. By heaven Ihave!” said Rogojin. “I could have poisoned you at any m
inute. Now, youhave been with me but a quarter of an hour, and all my malice seems tohave melted away, and you are as dear to me as ever. Stay here a littlelonger.”
“When I am with you you trust me; but as soon as my back is turned yoususpect me,” said the prince, smiling, and trying to hide his emotion.
“I trust your voice, when I hear you speak. I quite understand that youand I cannot be put on a level, of course.”
“Why did you add that?--There! Now you are cross again,” said theprince, wondering.
“We were not asked, you see. We were made different, with differenttastes and feelings, without being consulted. You say you love her withpity. I have no pity for her. She hates me--that’s the plain truth ofthe matter. I dream of her every night, and always that she is laughingat me with another man. And so she does laugh at me. She thinks no moreof marrying me than if she were changing her shoe. Would you believe it,I haven’t seen her for five days, and I daren’t go near her. She asks mewhat I come for, as if she were not content with having disgraced me--”
“Disgraced you! How?”
“Just as though you didn’t know! Why, she ran away from me, and went toyou. You admitted it yourself, just now.”
“But surely you do not believe that she...”
“That she did not disgrace me at Moscow with that officer, Zemtuznikoff?I know for certain she did, after having fixed our marriage-dayherself!”
“Impossible!” cried the prince.
“I know it for a fact,” replied Rogojin, with conviction.
“It is not like her, you say? My friend, that’s absurd. Perhaps such anact would horrify her, if she were with you, but it is quite differentwhere I am concerned. She looks on me as vermin. Her affair with Kellerwas simply to make a laughing-stock of me. You don’t know what a foolshe made of me in Moscow; and the money I spent over her! The money! themoney!”
“And you can marry her now, Parfen! What will come of it all?” said theprince, with dread in his voice.
Rogojin gazed back gloomily, and with a terrible expression in his eyes,but said nothing.
“I haven’t been to see her for five days,” he repeated, after a slightpause. “I’m afraid of being turned out. She says she’s still her ownmistress, and may turn me off altogether, and go abroad. She told methis herself,” he said, with a peculiar