 Part 1 Chapter 15 of the Idiot. This Librivox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Martin Giesen. The Idiot by Fyodor Dostoyevsky. Translated by Eva M. Martin. Part 1 Chapter 15. Katya, the maid-servant, made her appearance terribly frightened. She knows what it means, ma'am. She said, There is a whole collection of men come, all tipsy, and want to see you. They say that it's Rogorgin, and she knows all about it. It's all right, Katya, let them all in at once. Surely not all, ma'am. They seem so disorderly. It's dreadful to see them. Yes, all, Katya, all, every one of them. Let them in, or they'll come in, whether you like or know. Listen, what a noise they are making! Perhaps you are offended, gentlemen, that I should receive such guests in your presence. I am very sorry and ask your forgiveness, but it cannot be helped. And I should be very grateful if you could all stay and witness this climax. However, just as you please, of course. The guests exchanged glances. They were annoyed and bewildered by the episode. But it was clear enough that all this had been prearranged and expected by Nastasia Philipovna, and that there was no use in trying to stop her now, for she was little short of insane. Besides, they were naturally inquisitive to see what was to happen. There was nobody who would be likely to feel much alarm. There were but two ladies present, one of whom was the lively actress who was not easily frightened, and the other, the silent German beauty, who it turned out did not understand a word of Russian, and seemed to be as stupid as she was lovely. Her acquaintances invited her to their at-homes because she was so decorative. She was exhibited to their guests like a valuable picture, or vase, or statue, or fire screen. As for the men, Petitsyn was one of Rogozhin's friends. Tardyshenko was as much at home as a fish in the sea. Gania, not yet recovered from his amazement, appeared to be chained to a pillory. The old professor did not in the least understand what was happening, but when he noticed how extremely agitated the mistress of the house and her friends seemed, he nearly wept and trembled with fright. But he would rather have died than leave Nastasia Philipovna at such a crisis, for he loved her as if she were his own granddaughter. Afanasiy Ivanovich greatly disliked having anything to do with the affair, but he was too much interested to leave, in spite of the mad turn things had taken. And a few words that had dropped from the lips of Nastasia puzzled him so much that he felt he could not go without an explanation. He resolved therefore to see it out, and to adopt the attitude of silent spectator as most suited to his dignity. General Yepanchin alone determined to depart. He was annoyed at the manner in which his gift had been returned, and although he had condescended under the influence of passion, to place himself on a level with Petitsyn and Ferdishenko, his self-respect and sense of duty now returned together with a consciousness of what was due to his social rank and official importance. In short, he plainly showed his conviction that a man in his position could have nothing to do with Rogorgin and his companions. But Nastasia interrupted him at his first words. Our general, she cried, I was forgetting. If I had only foreseen this unpleasantness, I won't insist on keeping you against your will, although I should have liked you to be beside me now. In any case, I am most grateful to you for your visit and flattering attention, but if you are afraid—excuse me, Nastasia Philipovna—interrupted the general with chivalric generosity. To whom are you speaking? I have remained until now simply because of my devotion to you, and as for danger, I am only afraid that the carpets may be ruined and the furniture smashed. You should shut the door on the lot, in my opinion. But I confess that I am extremely curious to see how it ends." Rogorgin," announced Ferdishenko. What do you think about it? said the general in a low voice to Totski. Is she mad? I mean mad in the medical sense of the word. I've always said she was predisposed to it. Whispered Afanazi Ivanovich slyly. Perhaps it is a fever. Since their visit to Gania's home, Rogorgin's followers had been increased by two new recruits. A dissolute old man, the hero of some ancient scandal, and a retired subliftenant. A laughable story was told of the former. He possessed, it was said, a set of false teeth, and one day when he wanted money for a drinking orgy, he pawned them, and was never able to reclaim them. The officer appeared to be a rival of the gentleman who was so proud of his fists. He was known to none of Rogorgin's followers, but as they passed by the Gnievsky, where he stood begging, he had joined their ranks. His claim for the charity he desired seemed based on the fact that in the days of his prosperity he had given away as much as fifteen rubles at a time. The rivals seemed more than a little jealous of one another. The athlete appeared injured at the admission of the beggar into the company. By nature taciturn he now merely growled occasionally like a bear, and glared contemptuously upon the beggar, who being somewhat of a man of the world, and a diplomatist, tried to insinuate himself into the bear's good graces. He was a much smaller man than the athlete, and doubtless was conscious that he must tread warily. Sentely and without argument he alluded to the advantages of the English style in boxing, and showed himself a firm believer in western institutions. The athlete's lips curled disdainfully, and without honouring his adversary with a formal denial, he exhibited as if by accident that peculiarly Russian object, an enormous fist clenched, muscular, and covered with red hairs. The sight of this preeminently national attribute was enough to convince anybody, without words, that it was a serious matter for those who should happen to come into contact with it. None of the band were very drunk, for the leader had kept his intended visit to Nastasia in view all day, and had done his best to prevent his followers from drinking too much. He was sober himself, but the excitement of this chaotic day, the strangest day of his life, had affected him so that he was in a dazed, wild condition which almost resembled drunkenness. He had kept but one idea before him all day, and for that he had worked in an agony of anxiety and a fever of suspense. His lieutenants had worked so hard from five o'clock until eleven that they actually had collected a hundred thousand rubles for him, but it's such terrific expense that the rate of interest was only mentioned among them in whispers and with baited breath. As before Rogojin walked in advance of his troop, who followed him with mingled self-assertion and timidity. They were specially frightened of Nastasia Philipovna herself, for some reason. Many of them expected to be thrown downstairs at once, without further ceremony, the elegant and irresistible zalazhef among them, but the party led by the athlete, without openly showing their hostile intentions, silently nursed contempt and even hatred for Nastasia Philipovna, and marched into her house as they would have marched into an enemy's fortress. Arrived there, the luxury of the rooms seemed to inspire them with a kind of respect, not unmixed with alarm. So many things were entirely new to their experience, the choice furniture, the pictures, the great Statue of Venus. They followed their chief into the salon, however, with a kind of impudent curiosity. There the sight of General Yepanchin among the guests caused many of them to beat a hasty retreat into the adjoining room, the boxer and beggar being among the first to go. A few only, of whom Lebedyev made one, stood their ground. He had contrived to walk side by side with Rogoshin, for he quite understood the importance of a man who had a fortune of a million odd rubles, who at this moment carried a hundred thousand in his hand. It may be added that the whole company, not accepting Lebedyev, had the vaguest idea of the extent of their powers, and of how far they could safely go. At some moments Lebedyev was sure that Wright was on their side. At others he tried uneasily to remember various cheering and reassuring articles of the civil code. Rogoshin, when he stepped into the room and his eyes fell upon Nastasia, stopped short, grew white as a sheet, and stood staring. It was clear that his heart was beating painfully, so he stood gazing intently, but timidly for a few seconds. Suddenly as though bereft of his senses, he moved forward, staggering helplessly towards the table. On his way he collided against Ptitsin's chair, and put his dirty foot on the lace skirt of the silent lady's dress. But he neither apologised for this, nor even noticed it. On reaching the table he placed upon it a strange-looking object, which he had carried with him into the drawing-room. This was a paper packet, some six or seven inches thick, and eight or nine in length, wrapped in an old newspaper, and tied round three or four times with string. Having placed this before her, he stood with drooped arms and head, as though awaiting his sentence. His costume was the same as it had been in the morning, except for a new silk handkerchief round his neck, bright green and red, fastened with a huge diamond pin, and an enormous diamond ring on his dirty forefinger. Lebedyev stood two or three paces behind his chief, and the rest of the band waited about near the door. The two maid-servants were both peeping in, frightened and amazed at this unusual and disorderly scene. "'What is that?' asked Nastasia Philipovna, gazing intently at Rogoljin, and indicating the paper packet. "'A hundred thousand,' replied the latter, almost in a whisper. "'Oh! So he kept his word—there's a man for you. "'Well, sit down, please. Take that chair. I shall have something to say to you presently.' "'Who are all these with you? The same party? Let them come in and sit down. There's room on that sofa. There are some chairs, and there's another sofa. Well, why don't they sit down?' Sure enough, some of the brave fellows entirely lost their heads at this point, and retreated into the next room. Others, however, took the hint and sat down as far as they could from the table, however, feeling braver in proportion to their distance from Nastasia. Rogoljin took the chair, offered him, but he did not sit long. He soon stood up again, and did not recede himself. Little by little he began to look around him and discern the other guests. Seeing Gania, he smiled venomously, and muttered to himself, "'Look at that!' He gazed at Totski and the general, with no apparent confusion, and with very little curiosity. But when he observed that the prince was seated beside Nastasia Philipovna, he could not take his eyes off him for a long while, and was clearly amazed. He could not account for the prince's presence there. He was not in the least surprising that Rogoljin should be at this time in a more or less delirious condition. For not to speak of the excitements of the day, he had spent the night before in the train, and had not slept more than a wink for forty-eight hours. "'This, gentlemen, is a hundred thousand rubles,' said Nastasia Philipovna, addressing the company in general, "'Here, in this dirty parcel! This afternoon Rogoljin yelled like a madman that he would bring me a hundred thousand in the evening, and I have been waiting for him all the while. He was bargaining for me, you know. First he offered me eighteen thousand, then he rose to forty, and then to a hundred thousand. And he has kept his word, see! My goodness, how white he is! All this happened this afternoon at Garnia's. I had gone to pay his mother a visit. My future family, you know. And his sister said to my very face, Surely somebody will turn this shameless creature out! After which she spat in her brother Garnia's face. A curl of character that! Nastasia Philipovna began the general reproachfully. He was beginning to put his own interpretation on the affair. Well, what general? Not quite good for me. Oh, nonsense! Here have I been sitting in my box at the French theatre for the last five years like a statue of inaccessible virtue, and kept out of the way of all admirers like a silly little idiot. Now there's this man who comes and pays down his hundred thousand on the table before you all, and in spite of my five years of innocence and proud virtue, and I dare be sworn he has his sledge outside, waiting to carry me off. He values me at a hundred thousand. I see you are still angry with me, Garnia. Why surely you never really wished to take me into your family? Me, Rogoshin's mistress! What did the prince say just now? I never said you were Rogoshin's mistress. You are not," said the prince in trembling accents. Nastasia Philipovna, dear soul!" cried the actress impatiently. Do be calm, dear. If it annoys you so, all this, do go away and rest. Of course you would never go with this wretched fellow in spite of his hundred thousand rubles. Take his money and kick him out of the house. That's the way to treat him and the likes of him. Upon my word, if it were my business, I'd soon clear them all out. The actress was a kind-hearted woman, and highly impressionable. She was very angry now. Don't be cross, Daria Alexeevna, laughed Nastasia. I was not angry when I spoke. I wasn't reproaching, Garnia. I don't know how it was that I could ever have indulged the whim of entering an honest family like his. I saw his mother and kissed her hand, too. I came and stirred up all that fuss, Garnia, this afternoon on purpose to see how much you could swallow. You surprised me, my friend. You did indeed. Surely you could not marry a woman who accepts pearls, like those you knew the general was going to give me, on the very eve of her marriage. And Rogorgin, why, in your own house, and before your own brother and sister, he bargained with me. Yet you could come here and expect to be betrothed to me before you left the house. You almost brought your sister, too. Surely what Rogorgin said about you is not really true, that she would crawl all the way to the other end of the town on hands and knees for three rubles. Yes, he would, said Rogorgin quietly, but with an air of absolute conviction. And he receives a good salary, I'm told. Well, what should you get but disgrace and misery if you took a wife you hated into your family? For I know very well that you do hate me. No, no, I believe now that a man like you would murder anyone for money. Sharpen a razor and come up behind his best friend and cut his throat like a sheep. I've read of such people. Everyone seems money mad nowadays. No, no, I may be shameless, but you are far worse. I don't say a word about that other. Nastasia Filipovna, is this really you? You weren't so refined and delicate of speech. Oh, what a tongue! What dreadful things you are saying! cried the general, bringing his hands in real grief. I am intoxicated, general. I am having a day out, you know. It's my birthday. I have long looked forward to this happy occasion. Daria Alekseevna, you see that nose-gay man, that Monsieur O'Camilla, sitting there laughing at us. I am not laughing, Nastasia Filipovna. I am only listening with all my attention. The Totski with dignity. Well, why have I worried him for five years and never let him go free? Is he worth it? He is only just what he ought to be, nothing particular. He thinks I am to blame, too. He gave me my education, kept me like a countess, money, my word, what a lot of money he spent over me, and he tried to find me an honest husband first. And then this Garnia here. And what do you think? All these five years I did not live with him, and yet I took his money, and considered I was quite justified. You say, take the hundred thousand and kick that man out. It is true. It is an abominable business, as you say. I might have married long ago, not Garnia. Oh, no! But that would have been abominable, too. Would you believe it? I had some thoughts of marrying Totski four years ago. I meant mischief, I confess, but I could have had him, I give you my word. He asked me himself. But I thought, no, it's not worthwhile to take such advantage of him. No, I'd better go on to the streets, or accept Rogorgin, or become a washerwoman or something, for I have nothing of my own, you know. I shall go away and leave everything behind, to the last rag. He shall have it all packed. And who would take me without anything? Ask Garnia there, if he would. Why, even Ferdishenko wouldn't have me. No, Ferdishenko would not. He's a candid fellow, Nastasia Philipovna, said that worthy, but the Prince would. You sit here making complaints, but just look at the Prince. I've been observing him for a long while. Nastasia Philipovna looked keenly round at the Prince. Is that true? She asked. Quite true, whispered the Prince. You will take me as I am, with nothing. I will, Nastasia Philipovna." Here's a pretty business," cried the General. However, it might have been expected of him. The Prince continued to regard Nastasia with a sorrowful but intense and piercing gaze. Here's another alternative for me," said Nastasia, turning once more to the actress. And he does it out of pure kindness of heart. I know him. I've found a benefactor. Perhaps, though, what they say about him may be true, that he's a we-know-what. And what shall you live on, if you are really so madly in love with Rogojin's mistress, that you are ready to marry her? I take you as a good, honest woman, Nastasia Philipovna, not as to Rogojin's mistress. Who, I? Good and honest. Yes, you. Oh, you get those ideas out of novels, you know. Times are changed now, dear Prince. The world sees things as they really are. That's all nonsense. Besides, how can you marry? You need a nurse, not a wife. The Prince rose and began to speak in a trembling, timid tone, but with the air of a man absolutely sure of the truth of his words. I know nothing, Nastasia Philipovna. I have seen nothing. You are right so far, but I consider that you would be honouring me, and not I you. I am a nobody. You have suffered. You have passed through hell, and emerged pure. And that is very much. Why do you shame yourself by desiring to go with Rogojin? You are delirious. You have returned to Mr. Totski his seventy-five thousand rubles, and declared that you will leave his house and all that is in it, which is a line of conduct that not one person here would imitate. Nastasia Philipovna, I love you. I would die for you. I shall never let any man say one word against you, Nastasia Philipovna. And if we are poor, I can work for both. As the Prince spoke these last words, a titter was heard from Verdyshenko. Lebedyev laughed, too. The general grunted with irritation. Petitsin and Totski barely restrained their smiles. The rest all sat listening, open-mouthed with wonder. But perhaps we shall not be poor. We may be very rich, Nastasia Philipovna, continued the Prince in the same timid, quivering tones. I don't know for certain, and I am sorry to say I haven't had an opportunity of finding out all day. But I received a letter from Moscow, while I was in Switzerland, from a Mr. Salaskin. And he acquaints me with the fact that I am entitled to a very large inheritance. This letter, the Prince pulled a letter out of his pocket. Is he raving, said the general? Are we really in a madhouse? There was a silence for a moment. Then Petitsin spoke, I think you said, Prince, that your letter was from Salaskin. Salaskin is a very eminent man indeed in his own world. He is a wonderfully clever solicitor. And if he really tells you this, I think you may be pretty sure that he is right. It so happens, luckily, that I know his handwriting, for I have lately had business with him. If you would allow me to see it, I should perhaps be able to tell you." The Prince held out the letter silently, but with a shaking hand. What! what! said the general, much agitated. What's all this? Is he really heir to anything? All present concentrated their attention upon Petitsin, reading the Prince's letter. The general curiosity had received a new Philip. Ferdishenko could not sit still. Rogojin fixed his eyes first on the Prince, and then on Petitsin, and then back again. He was extremely agitated. Lebedyev could not stand it. He crept up and read over Petitsin's shoulder, with the air of a naughty boy who expects a box on the ear every moment for his indiscretion. End of Part 1, Chapter 15. Recording by Martin Gieson in Hazelmere Surrey Part 1, Chapter 16 of The Idiot. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Martin Gieson. The Idiot by Fyodor Dostoevsky. Translated by Eva M. Martin. Part 1, Chapter 16. It's good business, said Petitsin at last, folding the letter and handing it back to the Prince. You will receive, without the slightest trouble, by the last will and testament of your aunt, a very large sum of money indeed. Impossible! cried the general, starting up as if he had been shot. Petitsin explained, for the benefit of the company, that the Prince's aunt had died five months since. He had never known her, but she was his mother's own sister, the daughter of a Moscow merchant, one Paparchin, who had died a bankrupt. But the elder brother of this same Paparchin had been an eminent and very rich merchant. A year since it had so happened that his only two sons had both died within the same month. This sad event had so affected the old man that he too had died very shortly after. He was a widower and had no relations left, excepting the Prince's aunt, a poor woman living on charity, who was herself at the point of death from dropsy. But who had time before she died to set Sulaskin to work to find her nephew, and to make her will bequeathing her newly acquired fortune to him. It appeared that neither the Prince nor the doctor with whom he lived in Switzerland had thought of waiting for further communications, but the Prince had started straight away with Sulaskin's letter in his pocket. One thing I may tell you for certain, concluded Petitsyn addressing the Prince, that there is no question about the authenticity of this matter. Anything that Sulaskin writes you as regards your unquestionable right to this inheritance, you may look upon as so much money in your pocket. I congratulate you, Prince. You may receive a million and a half of rubles, perhaps more. I don't know. All I do know is that Paparchin was a very rich merchant indeed. Hurrah! cried Lebedyev in a drunken voice. Hurrah! For the last of them wishkins! My goodness me! And I gave him twenty-five rubles this morning, as though he were a beggar! Blurted out the general, half-senseless with amazement. Well, I congratulate you. And the general rose from his seat and solemnly embraced the Prince. All came forward with congratulations, even those of Rogozhin's party who had retreated into the next room, now crept softly back to look on. For the moment even Nastasia Philipovna was forgotten. But gradually the consciousness crept back into the minds of each one present, that the Prince had just made her an offer of marriage. The situation had therefore become three times as fantastic as before. Totski sat and shrugged his shoulders, bewildered. He was the only guest left sitting at this time. The others had thronged round the table in disorder, and were all talking at once. It was generally agreed, afterwards, in recalling that evening, that from this moment Nastasia Philipovna seemed entirely to lose her senses. She continued to sit still in her place, looking around at her guests with a strange bewildered expression, as though she were trying to collect her thoughts and could not. Then she suddenly turned to the Prince and glared at him with frowning brows. But this only lasted one moment. Perhaps it suddenly struck her that all this was a jest, but his face seemed to reassure her. She reflected and smiled again vaguely. So I really am a princess," she whispered to herself ironically, and glancing accidentally at Daria Alexeevna's face, she burst out laughing. Ah-ha-ha-ha! she cried. This is an unexpected climax, after all. I didn't expect this. What are you all standing up for, gentlemen? Sit down. Congratulate me and the Prince. Verdeshenko, just step out and order some more champagne, will you? Katya, Pasha," she added suddenly, seeing the servants at the door, come here. I'm going to be married, did you hear, to the Prince. He has a million and a half of roubles. He is Prince Mwishkin, and has asked me to marry him. Here, Prince, come and sit by me. And here comes the wine. Now then, ladies and gentlemen, where are your congratulations? Hurrah! cried a number of voices. A rush was made for the wine by Rogojin's followers, though even among them there seemed some sort of realisation that the situation had changed. Rogojin stood and looked on, with an incredulous smile, screwing up one side of his mouth. My dear fellow, do remember what you are about," said the general, approaching Mwishkin and pulling him by the coat-sleeve. Nastasia Philipovna overheard the remark and burst out laughing. No, no, general! She cried, you had better look out. I am the Princess now, you know. The Prince won't let you insult me. Afanazi Ivanovich, why don't you congratulate me? I shall be able to sit at table with your new wife now. Aha! see what you gain by marrying a Prince. A million and a half, and a Prince, and an idiot into the bargain, they say. What better could I wish for? Life is only just about to commence for me in earnest. Rogojin, you are a little too late. Away with your paper parcel. I'm going to marry the Prince. I'm richer than you are now. But Rogojin understood how things were tending at last. An inexpressibly painful expression came over his face. He wrung his hands. A groan made its way up from the depths of his soul. Surrender her for God's sake, he said to the Prince. All around burst out laughing. What! surrender her to you! cried Daria Alexeevna, to a fellow who comes and bargains for a wife like a moushik. The Prince wishes to marry her, and you? So do I. So do I. This moment, if I could. I'd give every farthing I have to do it. You drunken moushik! said Daria Alexeevna once more. You ought to be kicked out of the place. The laughter became louder than ever. Do you hear, Prince? said Nastasia Philipovna. Do you hear how this moushik of a fellow goes on bargaining for your bride? He is drunk, said the Prince quietly, and he loves you very much. Won't you be ashamed afterwards to reflect that your wife very nearly ran away with Rogozhin? Oh! you were raving. You were in a fever. You were still half delirious. And won't you be ashamed when they tell you afterwards that your wife lived at Totski's expense so many years? No, I shall not be ashamed of that. You did not so live by your own will. And you'll never reproach me with it. Never. Take care. Don't commit yourself for a whole lifetime. Nastasia Philipovna said the Prince quietly and with deep emotion. I said before that I shall esteem your consent to be my wife as a great honour to myself, and shall consider that it is you who will honour me, not I, you, by our marriage. You laughed at these words, and others around us laughed as well, I heard them. Very likely I expressed myself funnily, and I may have looked funny. But for all that I believe I understand where honour lies, and what I said was but the literal truth. You were about to ruin yourself just now, irrevocably. You would never have forgiven yourself for so doing afterwards. And yet you are absolutely blameless. It is impossible that your life should be altogether ruined at your age. What matter that Rogozhin came bargaining here, and that Gabriela Ardalyonovich would have deceived you if he could? Why would you continually remind us of these facts? I assure you once more that very few could find it in them to act as you have acted this day. As for your wish to go with Rogozhin, that was simply the idea of a delirious and suffering brain. You are still quite feverish. You ought to be in bed, not here. You know quite well that if you had gone with Rogozhin you would have become a washerwoman next day rather than stay with him. You are proud, Nastasia Philipovna, and perhaps you have really suffered so much that you imagine yourself to be a desperately guilty woman. You require a great deal of petting and looking after Nastasia Philipovna, and I will do this. I saw your portrait this morning, and it seemed quite a familiar face to me. It seemed to me that the portrait face was calling to me for help. I shall respect you all my life, Nastasia Philipovna," concluded the prince, as though suddenly recollecting himself, and blushing to think of the sort of company before whom he had said all this. Petitsin bowed his head and looked at the ground, overcome by a mixture of feelings. Totski muttered to himself. He may be an idiot, but he knows that flattery is the best road to success here. The prince observed Gania's eyes flashing at him, as though they would gladly annihilate him then and there. That's a kind-hearted man, if you like," said Daria Alexeevna, whose wrath was quickly evaporating. A refined man, but lost, murmured the general. Totski took his hat and rose to go. He and the general exchanged glances, making a private arrangement thereby to leave the house together. Thank you, prince. No one has ever spoken to me like that before," began Nastasia Philipovna. Men have always bargained for me before this, and not a single respectable man has ever proposed to marry me. Do you hear Avanasiy Ivanovich? What do you think of what the prince has just been saying? It was almost immodest, wasn't it? You, Rogozhin, wait a minute. Don't go yet. Ha! I see you don't intend to move, however. Perhaps I may go with you yet. Where did you mean to take me to? To Yekaterinhov," replied Lebedyev, Rogozhin simply stood staring, with trembling lips, not daring to believe his ears. He was stunned, as though from a blow on the head. What are you thinking of, my dear Nastasia? said Daria Alekseevna in alarm. What are you saying? You are not going mad, are you? Nastasia Philipovna burst out laughing and jumped up from the sofa. Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! You thought I should accept this good child's invitation to ruin him, did you? She cried. That's Totsky's way, not mine. He's fond of children. Come along, Rogozhin. Get your money ready. We won't talk about marrying just at this moment, but let's see the money at all events. Come. I may not marry you either. I don't know. I suppose you thought you'd keep the money if I did. Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Nonsense! I have no sense of shame left. I tell you, I have been Totsky's concubine. Prince, you must marry Aglaya Ivanovna, not Nastasia Philipovna. Well, this fellow Ferdishenko will always be pointing the finger of scorn at you. You aren't afraid, I know, but I should always be afraid that I had ruined you, and that you would reproach me for it. As for what you say about my doing you honour by marrying you, well, Totsky can tell you all about that. You had your eye on Aglaya, Gania. You know you had, and you might have married her if you had not come bargaining. You are all like this. You should choose once for all between disreputable women and respectable ones, or you are sure to get mixed. Look at the general, how he's staring at me. This is too horrible," said the general, starting to his feet. All were standing up now. Nastasia was absolutely beside herself. I am very proud, in spite of what I am," she continued. You called me perfection, just now, Prince, and I sought a perfection to throw up a prince and a million and a half of rubles in order to be able to boast of the fact afterwards. What sort of a wife should I make for you, after all I have said? Afanazi Ivanovich, do you observe I have really and truly thrown away a million of rubles? And you thought that I should consider your wretched seventy-five thousand, with Gania thrown in for a husband? A paradise of bliss! Take your seventy-five thousand back, sir. You did not reach the hundred thousand. Rogozhin cut a better dash than you did. I'll console Gania myself. I have an idea about that. But now I must be off. I've been in prison for ten years. I'm free at last. Well, Rogozhin, what are you waiting for? Let's get ready and go. Come along," shouted Rogozhin, beside himself with joy. Hey, all of you fellows, wine round with it, fill the glasses. Get away! he shouted frantically, observing that Daria Alexeyevna was approaching to protest against Nastasia's conduct. Get away! She's mine. Everything's mine. She's a queen. Get away! He was panting with ecstasy. He walked round and round Nastasia Philipovna and told everybody to keep their distance. All the Rogozhin company were now collected in the drawing-room. Some were drinking, some laughed and talked. All were in the highest and wildest spirits. Erdishenko was doing his best to unite himself to them. The general and Totski again made an attempt to go. Gania, too, stood hat in hand, ready to go, but seemed to be unable to tear his eyes away from the scene before him. Get out! Keep your distance!" shouted Rogozhin. What are you shouting about there, cried Nastasia? I'm not yours yet. I may kick you out, for all you know. I haven't taken your money yet. There it all is on the table. Here, give me over that packet. Is there a hundred thousand rubles in that one packet? What abominable stuff it looks! Oh, nonsense, Daria Alexeevna! You surely did not expect me to ruin him, indicating the Prince. Fancy him nursing me, while he needs a nurse himself. The general there will be his nurse now, you'll see. Here, Prince, look here. Your bride is accepting money. What a disreputable woman she must be! And you wished to marry her. What are you crying about? Is it a bitter dose? Never mind, you shall laugh yet, trust to time. In spite of these words there were two large tears rolling down Nastasia's own cheeks. It's far better to think twice of it now than afterwards. Oh, you mustn't cry like that. There's Katya crying too. What is it, Katya dear? I shall leave you and Pasha a lot of things. I've laid them out for you already. But good-bye now. I made an honest girl like you serve a low woman like myself. It's better so, Prince, it is indeed. You'd begin to despise me afterwards. We should never be happy. Oh, you needn't swear, Prince. I shan't believe you, you know. How foolish it would be too. No, no. We'd better say good-bye and part, friends. I am a bit of a dreamer myself, and I used to dream of you once. Very often, during those five years down at his estate, I used to dream and think, and I always imagined just such a good, honest, foolish fellow as you, one who should come and say to me, you are an innocent woman, Nastasia Philipovna, and I adore you. I dreamt of you often. I used to think so much down there that I nearly went mad. And then this fellow here would come down. He would stay a couple of months out of the twelve, and disgrace, and insult, and deprave me, and then go, so that I longed to drown myself in the pond a thousand times over. But I did not dare do it. I hadn't the heart. And now. Well, are you ready, Rogojin? Ready. Keep your distance, all of you. We're all ready, said several of his friends. The troikas are at the door, bells and all. Nastasia Philipovna seized the packet of rank-notes. Ganya, I have an idea. I wish to recompense you. Why should you lose all? Rogojin, would he crawl for three rubles, as far as the Vasiliostrov? Oh, wouldn't he just? Well, look here, Ganya. I wish to look into your heart once more for the last time. You've worried me for the last three months. Now it's my turn. Do you see this packet? It contains a hundred thousand rubles. Now, I'm going to throw it into the fire here, before all these witnesses. As soon as the fire catches hold of it, you put your hands into the fire and pick it out. Without gloves, you know. You must have bare hands, and you must turn your sleeves up. Pull it out, I say, and it's all yours. You may burn your fingers a little, of course, but then it's a hundred thousand rubles, remember. It won't take you long to lay hold of it and snatch it out. I shall so much admire you if you put your hands into the fire for my money. All here present may be witnesses that the whole packet of money is yours if you get it out. If you don't get it out, it shall burn. I will let no one else come. Away, get away, all of you. It's my money. Rogojin has bought me with it. Is it my money, Rogojin? Yes, my queen. It's your own money, my joy. Get away, then, all of you. I shall do as I like with my own. Don't meddle. Ferdishenko, make up the fire quick. Nastasia Filipovna, I can't. My hands won't obey me," said Ferdishenko, astounded and helpless with bewilderment. Nonsense! cried Nastasia Filipovna, seizing the poker and raking a couple of logs together. No sooner did a tongue of flame burst out than she threw the packet of notes upon it. Everyone gasped. Some even crossed themselves. She's mad. She's mad," was the cry. Autant, oughtn't we to secure her? asked the general of Petitsyn in a whisper. Or shall we send for the authorities? Why, she's mad, isn't she? Isn't she? Hmm. No, I hardly think she is actually mad. Whispered Petitsyn, who was as white as his handkerchief and trembling like a leaf, he could not take his eyes off the smoldering packet. She's mad, surely, isn't she? The general appealed to Totsky. I told you she wasn't an ordinary woman," replied the latter, who was as pale as anyone. Oh, but positively, you know, a hundred thousand rubles. Goodness gracious! Good heavens! came from all four quarters of the room. All now crowded round the fire and thronged to see what was going on. Everyone lamented and gave vent to exclamations of horror and woe. Some jumped up on chairs in order to get a better view. Daria Alekseevna ran into the next room and whispered excitedly to Katia and Pasha. The beautiful German disappeared altogether. My lady, my sovereign, lamented Lebedyev, falling on his knees before Nastasia Philipovna and stretching out his hands towards the fire. It's a hundred thousand rubles. It is indeed. I packed it up myself. I saw the money. My queen, let me get into the fire after it, say the word. I'll put my whole grey head into the fire for it. I have a poor lame wife and thirteen children. My father died of starvation last week. Nastasia Philipovna! Nastasia Philipovna! The wretched little man wept and groaned and crawled towards the fire. Away, out of the way! cried Nastasia. Make room, all of you. Gania, what are you standing there for? Don't stand on ceremony. Put in your hand. There's your whole happiness smoldering away. Look, quick! But Gania had borne too much that day. And especially this evening, and he was not prepared for this last, quite unexpected, trial. The crowd parted on each side of him, and he was left face to face with Nastasia Philipovna, three paces from her. She stood by the fire and waited, with her intent gaze fixed upon him. Gania stood before her in his evening clothes, holding his white gloves and hat in his hand, speechless and motionless, with arms folded and eyes fixed on the fire. A silly, meaningless smile played on his white, death-like lips. He could not take his eyes off the smoldering packet, but it appeared that something new had come to birth in his soul, as though he were vowing to himself that he would bear this trial. He did not move from his place. In a few seconds it became evident to all that he did not intend to rescue the money. Hey, look at it! It'll burn in another minute or two!" cried Nastasia Philipovna. You'll hang yourself afterwards, you know, if it does. I'm not joking. The fire choked between a couple of smoldering pieces of wood, had died down for the first few moments after the packet was thrown upon it. But a little tongue of fire now began to lick the paper from below, and soon, gathering courage, mounted the sides of the parcel and crept around it. In another moment the whole of it burst into flames, and the exclamations of woe and horror were redoubled. Nastasia Philipovna lamented Lebedev again straining towards the fireplace, but Rogozhin dragged him away and pushed him to the rear once more. The whole of Rogozhin's being was concentrated in one rapturous gaze of ecstasy. He could not take his eyes off Nastasia. He stood drinking her in, as it were. He was in the seventh heaven of delight. Oh, what a queen she is! he ejaculated every other minute, throwing out the remark for anyone who liked to catch it. That's the sort of woman for me. Which of you would think of doing a thing like that, you blaggards? He yelled. He was hopelessly and wildly beside himself with ecstasy. The prince watched the whole scene, silent and dejected. I'll pull it out with my teeth the one thousand," said Fertichenko. So would I, said another from behind, with pleasure. Devil, take the thing! He added in a tempest of despair. It will all be burnt up in a minute. It's burning! It's burning! It's burning! It's burning! cried all thronging nearer and nearer to the fire in their excitement. Gania, don't be a fool. I tell you for the last time. Get on, quick! shrieked Fertichenko, rushing wildly up to Gania and trying to drag him to the fire by the sleeve of his coat. Get it, you dummy! It's burning away fast! Oh, damn the thing! Gania hurled Fertichenko from him. Then he turned sharp round and made for the door. But he had not gone a couple of steps when he tottered and fell to the ground. He's fainted. The cry went round. And the money's burning still! Lebedye flamented. Burning for nothing! shouted others. Katya, Pasha, bring him some water! cried Nastasia Philipovna. Then she took the tongs and fished out the packet. Nearly the whole of the outer covering was burned away, but it was soon evident that the contents were hardly touched. The packet had been wrapped in a threefold covering of newspaper, and the notes were safe. All breathed more freely. Some dirty little thousand or so may be touched, said Lebedyev immensely relieved. But there's very little harm done after all. It's all his. The whole packet is for him. Do you hear? All of you!" cried Nastasia Philipovna, placing the packet by the side of Gania. He restrained himself and didn't go after it, so his self-respect is greater than his thirst for money. All right! He'll come too, directly. He must have the packet, or he'll cut his throat afterwards. There! He's coming to himself. General Totski, all of you, did you hear me? The money is all Gania's. I give it to him, fully conscious of my action, as recompense for—well, for anything he thinks best. Tell him so. Let it lie here beside him. Off we go, Rogojin. Good-bye, Prince. I have seen a man for the first time in my life. Good-bye, Afanasiy Ivanovich, and thanks. The Rogojin gang followed their leader and Nastasia Philipovna to the entrance hall, laughing and shouting and whistling. In the hall the servants were waiting, and handed her her fur cloak. Marfa, the cook, ran in from the kitchen. Nastasia kissed them all round. Are you really throwing us all over, little mother? Where, where are you going to, and on your birthday too? cried the four girls, crying over her and kissing her hands. I am going out into the world, Katya. Perhaps I shall be a launderess. I don't know. No more of Afanasiy Ivanovich, anyhow. Give him my respects. Don't think badly of me, girls. The prince hurried down to the front gate, where the party was settling into the troikas, all the bells tinkling a merry accompaniment to the wild. The general caught him up on the stairs. Prince, prince, he cried, seizing hold of his arm. Recollect yourself. Drop her, prince. You'll see what sort of a woman she is. I am speaking to you like a father. The prince glanced at him, but said nothing. He shook himself free and rushed on downstairs. The general was just in time to see the prince take the first sledge he could get, and, giving the order to Yekaterinhof, start off in pursuit of the troikas. Then the general's fine grey horse dragged that worthy home, with some new thoughts, some new hopes and calculations developing in his brain, and with the pearls in his pocket, for he had not forgotten to bring them along with him, being a man of business. Amid his new thoughts and ideas, there came once or twice the image of Nastasia Philipovna. The general sighed. I'm really, really sorry, he muttered. She's a ruined woman, mad, mad. However, the prince is not for Nastasia Philipovna now. Perhaps it's as well. Two more of Nastasia's guests, who walked a short distance together, indulged in high moral sentiments of a similar nature. Do you know Totski? This is all very like what they say goes on among the Japanese," said Ptitsin. The offended party there, they say, marches off to his insulter and says to him, You insulted me, so I have come to rip myself open before your eyes. And with these words he does actually rip his stomach open before his enemy, and considers, doubtless, that he is having all possible and necessary satisfaction and revenge. There are strange characters in the world, sir. Hmm, and you think there was something of this sort here, do you? Dear me, a very remarkable comparison, you know. But you must have observed, my dear Ptitsin, that I did all I possibly could. I could do no more than I did, and you must admit that there are some rare qualities in this woman. I felt I could not speak in that bedlam, or I should have been tempted to cry out when she reproached me that she herself was my best justification. Such a woman could make anyone forget all reason, everything. Even that moujik rogogin you saw brought her a hundred thousand rubles. Of course all that happened to-night was ephemeral, fantastic, unseemly, yet it lacked neither colour nor originality. My God, what might not have been made of such a character combined with such beauty. Yet in spite of all efforts, in spite of all education even, all those gifts are wasted. She is an uncut diamond. I have often said so. And Afanazi Ivanovich heaved at deep sigh. End of Part 1 of The Idiot. Recording by Martin Giesin in Hazelmeyer Surrey. Part 2, Chapter 1 of The Idiot. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Martin Giesin. The Idiot by Fyodor Dostoyevsky. Translated by Eva M. Martin. Part 2, Chapter 1. Two days after the strange conclusion to Nastasia Philipovna's birthday party, with the record of which we concluded the first part of this story, Prince Moujkin hurriedly left St. Petersburg for Moscow in order to see after some business connected with the receipt of his unexpected fortune. It was said that there were other reasons for his hurried departure, but as to this, as to his movements in Moscow, and as to his prolonged absence from St. Petersburg, we are able to give very little information. The Prince was away for six months, and even those who were most interested in his destiny were able to pick up very little news about him all that while. True, certain rumours did reach his friends, but these were both strange and rare, and each one contradicted the last. Of course the Yepanchin family was much interested in his movements, though he had not had time to bid them farewell before his departure. The general, however, had had an opportunity of seeing him once or twice the eventful evening, and had spoken very seriously with him. But though he had seen the Prince, as I say, he told his family nothing about the circumstance. In fact, for a month or so after his departure, it was considered not the thing to mention the Prince's name in the Yepanchin household. Only Mrs. Yepanchin at the commencement of this period had announced that she had been cruelly mistaken in the Prince, and a day or two after she had added evidently alluding to him, but not mentioning his name, that it was an unalterable characteristic of hers to be mistaken in people. Then once more ten days later, after some passage of arms with one of her daughters, she had remarked sententiously, We have had enough of mistakes. I shall be more careful in future. However, it was impossible to avoid remarking that there was some sense of oppression in the household, something unspoken, but felt, something strained. All the members of the family wore frowning looks. The general was unusually busy. His family hardly ever saw him. As to the girls, nothing was said openly at all events, and probably very little in private. They were proud damsels, and were not always perfectly confidential even among themselves, but they understood each other thoroughly at the first word on all occasions, very often at the first glance, so that there was no need of much talking as a rule. One fact, at least, would have been perfectly plain to an outsider had any such person been on the spot, and that was that the prince had made a very considerable impression upon the family, in spite of the fact that he had but once been inside the house, and then only for a short time. Of course, if analysed, this impression might have proved to be nothing more than a feeling of curiosity. But be it what it might, there it undoubtedly was. Little by little, the rumours spread about town became lost in a maze of uncertainty. It was said that some foolish young prince, name unknown, had suddenly come into possession of a gigantic fortune, and had married a French ballet dancer. This was contradicted, and the rumour circulated that it was a young merchant who had come into the enormous fortune and married the great ballet dancer, and that at the wedding the drunken young fool had burned 70,000 rubles at a candle out of pure bravado. However, all these rumours soon died down, to which circumstance certain facts largely contributed. For instance, the whole of the Rogozhin troop had departed with him at their head for Moscow. This was exactly a week after a dreadful orgy at the Yakaterinhof Gardens, where Nastasia Philipovna had been present. It became known that after this orgy Nastasia Philipovna had entirely disappeared, and that she had since been traced to Moscow, that the exodus of the Rogozhin band was found consistent with this report. There were rumours current as to Gania, too, but circumstances soon contradicted these. He had fallen seriously ill, and his illness precluded his appearance in society, and even at business for over a month. As soon as he had recovered, however, he drew up his situation in the public company under General Yepanchin's direction, for some unknown reason, and the post was given to another. He never went near the Yepanchin's house at all, and was exceedingly irritable and depressed. Varvara Ardalyanovna married Petitsyn this winter, and it was said that the fact of Gania's retirement from business was the ultimate cause of the marriage, since Gania was now not only unable to support his family, but even required help himself. We may mention that Gania was no longer mentioned in the Yepanchin household any more than the Prince was, but that a certain circumstance in connection with the fatal evening at Nastasia's house became known to the general, and in fact to all the family the very next day. This fact was that Gania had come home that night, but had refused to go to bed. He had awaited the Prince's return from Yekaterinhof with feverish impatience. On the latter's arrival at six in the morning, Gania had gone to him in his room, bringing with him the singed packet of money, which he had insisted that the Prince should return to Nastasia Philipovna without delay. It was said that when Gania entered the Prince's room he came with anything but friendly feelings and in a condition of despair and misery, but that after a short conversation he had stayed on for a couple of hours with him, sobbing continuously and bitterly the whole time. They had parted upon terms of cordial friendship. The Yepanchins heard about this, as well as about the episode at Nastasia Philipovna's. It was strange, perhaps, that the fact should become so quickly and fairly accurately known. As far as Gania was concerned it might have been supposed that the news had come through Varvara Ardalyanovna, who had suddenly become a frequent visitor of the Yepanchin girls, greatly to their mother's surprise. But though Varvara had seen fit for some reason to make friends with them, it was not likely that she would have talked to them about her brother. She had plenty of pride, in spite of the fact that in thus acting she was seeking intimacy with people who had practically shown her brother the door. She and the Yepanchin girls had been acquainted in childhood, although of late they had met but rarely. Even now Varvara hardly ever appeared in the drawing-room but would slip in by a back way. Lisa Vietaprokofievna, who disliked Varvara, although she had a great respect for her brother, was much annoyed by this sudden intimacy, and put it down to the general contrariness of her daughters, who were always on the lookout for some new way of opposing her. Nevertheless, Varvara continued her visits. A month after Mushkin's departure, Mrs. Yepanchin received a letter from her old friend Princess Byalkonsky, who had lately left for Moscow. Which letter put her into the greatest good humour? She did not divulge its contents either to her daughters or the general, but her conduct towards the former became affectionate in the extreme. She even made some sort of confession to them, but they were unable to understand what it was about. She actually relaxed towards the general a little. He had been long disgraced. And though she managed to quarrel with them all the next day, yet she soon came round, and from her general behaviour it was to be concluded that she had had good news of some sort, which she would like but could not make up her mind to disclose. However, a week later, she received another letter from the same source and at last resolved to speak. She solemnly announced that she had heard from old Princess Byalkonsky, who had given her most comforting news about that queer young prince. Her friend had hunted him up and found that all was going well with him. He had since called in person upon her, making an extremely favourable impression, for the princess had received him each day since, and had introduced him into several good houses. The girls could see that their mother concealed a great deal from them and left out large pieces of the letter in reading it to them. However, the ice was broken, and it suddenly became possible to mention the prince's name again. And again it became evident how very strong was the impression the young man had made in the household by his one visit there. Mrs. Yepanchin was surprised at the effect which the news from Moscow had upon the girls. And they were no less surprised that after solemnly remarking that her most striking characteristic was being mistaken in people, she should have troubled to obtain for the prince the favour and protection of so powerful an old lady as the princess Byalkonsky. As soon as the ice was thus broken, the general lost no time in showing that he too took the greatest interest in the subject. He admitted that he was interested but said that it was merely in the business side of the question. It appeared that in the interest of the prince he had made arrangements in Moscow for a careful watch to be kept upon the prince's business affairs, and especially upon Sulaskin. All that had been said as to the prince being an undoubted heir to a fortune turned out to be perfectly true. But the fortune proved to be much smaller than was at first reported. The estate was considerably encumbered with debts. Creditors turned up on all sides, and the prince, in spite of all advice and entreaty, insisted upon managing all matters of claim himself, which of course meant satisfying everybody all round, although half the claims were absolutely fraudulent. Mrs. Yepanchin confirmed all this. She said the princess had written to much the same effect and added that there was no curing of fool. But it was plain from her expression of face how strongly she approved of this particular young fool's doings. In conclusion the general observed that his wife took as great an interest in the prince as though he were her own son, and that she had commenced to be especially affectionate towards Aglaya was a self-evident fact. All this caused the general to look grave and important, but alas this agreeable state of affairs very soon changed once more. A couple of weeks went by, and suddenly the general and his wife were once more gloomy and silent, and the ice was as firm as ever. The fact was, the general, who had heard first how Nastasia Philipovna had fled to Moscow and had been discovered there by Rogorgin, that she had then disappeared once more and been found again by Rogorgin, so after that she had almost promised to marry him. Now received news that she had once more disappeared, almost on the very day fixed for her wedding, flying somewhere into the interior of Russia this time, and that Prince Mushkin had left all his affairs in the hands of Salaskin and disappeared also. But whether he was with Nastasia, or had only set off in search of her, was unknown. Lisaveta Prokofievna received confirmatory news from the princess, and alas, two months after the prince's first departure from St. Petersburg, darkness and mystery once more enveloped his whereabouts and actions, and in the Yepanchin family the ice of silence once more formed over the subject. Varya, however, informed the girls of what had happened, she having received the news from Ptitsin, who generally knew more than most people. To make an end, we may say that there were many changes in the Yepanchin household in the spring, so that it was not difficult to forget the prince, who sent no news of himself. The Yepanchin family had at last made up their minds to spend the summer abroad, all except the general, who could not waste time in travelling for enjoyment, of course. This arrangement was brought about by the persistence of the girls, who insisted that they were never allowed to go abroad, because their parents were too anxious to marry them off. Perhaps their parents had at last come to the conclusion that husbands might be found abroad, and that a summer's travel might bear fruit. The marriage between Alexandra and Totsky had been broken off. Since the prince's departure from St. Petersburg no more had been said about it, the subject had been dropped without ceremony, much to the joy of Mrs. General, who announced that she was ready to cross herself with both hands in gratitude for the escape. The general, however, regretted Totsky for a long while. Such a fortune, he sighed, and such a gout easy-going fellow. After a time it became known that Totsky had married a French marquis, and was to be carried off by her to Paris and then to Brittany. Oh, well, thought the general, he's lost to us for good now. So the Yepanchins prepared to depart for the summer. But now another circumstance occurred which changed all the plans once more, and again the intended journey was put off, much to the delight of the general and his spouse. A certain Prince S arrived in St. Petersburg from Moscow, an eminent and honourable young man. He was one of those active persons who always find some good work with which to employ themselves. Without forcing himself upon the public notice, modest and unobtrusive, this young Prince was concerned with much that had happened in the world in general. He had served at first in one of the civil departments, had then attended to matters connected with the local government of provincial towns, and had of late been a corresponding member of several important scientific societies. He was a man of excellent family and solid means, about thirty-five years of age. Prince S made the acquaintance of the general's family, and Adelaida, the second girl, made a great impression upon him. Towards the spring he proposed to her, and she accepted him. The general and his wife were delighted. The journey abroad was put off, and the wedding was fixed for a day not very distant. The trip abroad might have been enjoyed later on by Mrs Yepanchin and her two remaining daughters, but for another circumstance. It so happened that Prince S introduced a distant relation of his own into the Yepanchin family. One Yevgenye Pavlovich, a young officer of about twenty-eight years of age, whose conquests among the ladies in Moscow had been proverbial. This young gentleman no sooner set eyes on a glire than he became a frequent visitor at the house. He was witty, well-educated, and extremely wealthy, as the general very soon discovered. His past reputation was the only thing against him. Nothing was said. There were not even any hints dropped, but still it seemed better to the parents to say nothing more about going abroad this season, at all events. A glire herself perhaps was of a different opinion. All this happened just before the second appearance of our hero upon the scene. By this time, to judge from appearances, poor Prince Mushkin had been quite forgotten in St. Petersburg. If he had appeared suddenly among his acquaintances, he would have been received as one from the skies. But we must just glance at one more fact before we conclude this preface. Kolia Evolgin, for some time after the Prince's departure, continued his old life. That is, he went to school, looked after his father, helped Vardia in the house, ran her errands, and went frequently to see his friend, Ipolit. The lodgers had disappeared very quickly, ferdishenko soon after the events at Nastasia Philipovna's, while the Prince went to Moscow, as we know. Gania and his mother went to live with Varya and Petitsin immediately after the latter's wedding, while the general was housed in a debtor's prison, by reason of certain OU's given to the captain's widow, under the impression that they would never be formally used against him. This unkind action much surprised poor Ardalion Alexandrovich, the victim, as he called himself, of an unbounded trust in the nobility of the human heart. When he signed those notes of hand, he never dreamt that they would be a source of future trouble. The event showed that he was mistaken. Trust in anyone after this, have the least confidence in man or woman. He cried in bitter tones, as he sat with his new friends in prison, and recounted to them his favourite stories of the Siege of Kars, and the resuscitated soldier. On the whole he accommodated himself very well to his new position. Petitsin and Varya declared that he was in the right place, and Gania was of the same opinion. The only person who deplored his fate was poor Nina Alexandrovna, who wept bitter tears over him to the great surprise of her household, and though always in feeble health, made a point of going to see him as often as possible. Since the general's mishap, as Collier called it, and the marriage of his sister, the boy had quietly possessed himself of far more freedom. His relations saw little of him, for he rarely slept at home. He made many new friends, and was moreover a frequent visitor at the debtor's prison, to which he invariably accompanied his mother. Varya, who used to be always correcting him, never spoke to him now on the subject of his frequent absences, and the whole household was surprised to see Gania, in spite of his depression, on quite friendly terms with his brother. This was something new, for Gania had been wont to look upon Collier as a kind of errant boy, treating him with contempt, threatening to pull his ears, and in general driving him almost wild with irritation. It seemed now that Gania really needed his brother, and the latter, for his part, felt as if he could forgive Gania much, since he had returned the hundred thousand rubles offered to him by Nastasia Philipovna. Three months after the departure of the prince, the Evolgin family discovered that Collier had made acquaintance with the Yeppanchins, and was on very friendly terms with the daughters. Varya heard of it first, though Collier had not asked her to introduce him. Little by little the family grew quite fond of him. Madame Yeppanchin at first looked on him with disdain, and received him coldly. But in a short time he grew to please her, because, as she said, he was candid and no flatterer. A very true description. From the first he put himself on an equality with his new friends, and though he sometimes read newspapers and books to the mistress of the house, it was simply because he liked to be useful. One day, however, he and Lisaveta Prokofievna quarreled seriously about the woman-question in the course of a lively discussion on that burning subject. He told her that she was a tyrant, and that he would never set foot in her house again. It may seem incredible, but a day or two after, Madame Yeppanchin sent a servant with a note begging him to return, and Collier, without standing on his dignity, did so at once. Aglaya was the only one of the family whose good graces he could not gain, and who always spoke to him haughtily, but it so happened that the boy one day succeeded in giving the proud maiden a surprise. It was about Easter, when taking advantage of a momentary tetatet, Collier handed Aglaya a letter, remarking that he had orders to deliver it to her privately. She stared at him in amazement, but he did not wait to hear what she had to say, and went out. Aglaya broke the seal, and read as follows, Once you did me the honour of giving me your confidence. Perhaps you have quite forgotten me now. How is it that I am writing to you? I do not know. But I am conscious of an irresistible desire to remind you of my existence, especially you. How many times I have needed all three of you, but only you have dwelt always in my mind's eye. I need you. I need you very much. I will not write about myself. I have nothing to tell you. But I long for you to be happy. Are you happy? That is all I wish to say to you. Your brother, Prince El Mwishkin. On reading this short and disconnected note, Aglaya suddenly blushed all over and became very thoughtful. It would be difficult to describe her thoughts at that moment. One of them was, shall I show it to anyone? But she was ashamed to show it. So she ended by hiding it in her table-draw with a very strange ironical smile upon her lips. Next day she took it out and put it into a large book, as she usually did with papers which she wanted to be able to find easily. She laughed when, about a week later, she happened to notice the name of the book and saw that it was Don Quixote. But it would be difficult to say exactly why. I cannot say either whether she showed the letter to her sisters. But when she had read it herself once more, it suddenly struck her that surely that conceited boy, Collier, had not been the one chosen correspondent of the Prince all this while. She determined to ask him and did so with an exaggerated show of carelessness. He informed her haughtily that though he had given the Prince his permanent address when the latter left town and had offered his services, the Prince had never before given him any commission to perform, nor had he written until the following lines arrived with Aglaya's letter. Aglaya took the note and read it. Dear Collier, please be so kind as to give the enclosed sealed letter to Aglaya Ivanovna. Keep well, ever your loving Prince El Mushkin. It seems absurd to trust a little pepper-box like you, said Aglaya as she returned the note and walked past the pepper-box with an expression of great contempt. This was more than Collier could bear. He had actually borrowed Aglaya's new green tie for the occasion without saying why he wanted it, in order to impress her. He was very deeply mortified.