The Brothers Karamazov
this way the fact was established that three or four hours before a
certain event, of which I shall speak later on, Mitya had not a
farthing, and pawned for ten roubles a possession he valued, though,
three hours later, he was in possession of thousands.... But I am
anticipating. From Marya Kondratyevna (the woman living near Fyodor
Pavlovitch’s) he learned the very disturbing fact of Smerdyakov’s
illness. He heard the story of his fall in the cellar, his fit, the
doctor’s visit, Fyodor Pavlovitch’s anxiety; he heard with interest,
too, that his brother Ivan had set off that morning for Moscow.
“Then he must have driven through Volovya before me,” thought Dmitri,
but he was terribly distressed about Smerdyakov. “What will happen now?
Who’ll keep watch for me? Who’ll bring me word?” he thought. He began
greedily questioning the women whether they had seen anything the
evening before. They quite understood what he was trying to find out,
and completely reassured him. No one had been there. Ivan Fyodorovitch
had been there the night; everything had been perfectly as usual. Mitya
grew thoughtful. He would certainly have to keep watch to-day, but
where? Here or at Samsonov’s gate? He decided that he must be on the
look out both here and there, and meanwhile ... meanwhile.... The
difficulty was that he had to carry out the new plan that he had made
on the journey back. He was sure of its success, but he must not delay
acting upon it. Mitya resolved to sacrifice an hour to it: “In an hour
I shall know everything, I shall settle everything, and then, then,
first of all to Samsonov’s. I’ll inquire whether Grushenka’s there and
instantly be back here again, stay till eleven, and then to Samsonov’s
again to bring her home.” This was what he decided.
He flew home, washed, combed his hair, brushed his clothes, dressed,
and went to Madame Hohlakov’s. Alas! he had built his hopes on her. He
had resolved to borrow three thousand from that lady. And what was
more, he felt suddenly convinced that she would not refuse to lend it
to him. It may be wondered why, if he felt so certain, he had not gone
to her at first, one of his own sort, so to speak, instead of to
Samsonov, a man he did not know, who was not of his own class, and to
whom he hardly knew how to speak.
But the fact was that he had never known Madame Hohlakov well, and had
seen nothing of her for the last month, and that he knew she could not
endure him. She had detested him from the first because he was engaged
to Katerina Ivanovna, while she had, for some reason, suddenly
conceived the desire that Katerina Ivanovna should throw him over, and
marry the “charming, chivalrously refined Ivan, who had such excellent
manners.” Mitya’s manners she detested. Mitya positively laughed at
her, and had once said about her that she was just as lively and at her
ease as she was uncultivated. But that morning in the cart a brilliant
idea had struck him: “If she is so anxious I should not marry Katerina
Ivanovna” (and he knew she was positively hysterical upon the subject)
“why should she refuse me now that three thousand, just to enable me to
leave Katya and get away from her for ever. These spoilt fine ladies,
if they set their hearts on anything, will spare no expense to satisfy
their caprice. Besides, she’s so rich,” Mitya argued.
As for his “plan” it was just the same as before; it consisted of the
offer of his rights to Tchermashnya—but not with a commercial object,
as it had been with Samsonov, not trying to allure the lady with the
possibility of making a profit of six or seven thousand—but simply as a
security for the debt. As he worked out this new idea, Mitya was
enchanted with it, but so it always was with him in all his
undertakings, in all his sudden decisions. He gave himself up to every
new idea with passionate enthusiasm. Yet, when he mounted the steps of
Madame Hohlakov’s house he felt a shiver of fear run down his spine. At
that moment he saw fully, as a mathematical certainty, that this was
his last hope, that if this broke down, nothing else was left him in
the world, but to “rob and murder some one for the three thousand.” It
was half-past seven when he rang at the bell.
At first fortune seemed to smile upon him. As soon as he was announced
he was received with extraordinary rapidity. “As though she were
waiting for me,” thought Mitya, and as soon as he had been led to the
drawing-room, the lady of the house herself ran in, and declared at
once that she was expecting him.
“I was expecting you! I was expecting you! Though I’d no reason to
suppose you would come to see me, as you will admit yourself. Yet, I
did expect you. You may marvel at my instinct, Dmitri Fyodorovitch, but
I was convinced all the morning that you would come.”
“That is certainly wonderful, madam,” observed Mitya, sitting down
limply, “but I have come to you on a matter of great importance.... On
a matter of supreme importance for me, that is, madam ... for me alone
... and I hasten—”
“I know you’ve come on most important business, Dmitri Fyodorovitch;
it’s not a case of presentiment, no reactionary harking back to the
miraculous (have you heard about Father Zossima?). This is a case of
mathematics: you couldn’t help coming, after all that has passed with
Katerina Ivanovna; you couldn’t, you couldn’t, that’s a mathematical
certainty.”
“The realism of actual life, madam, that’s what it is. But allow me to
explain—”
“Realism indeed, Dmitri Fyodorovitch. I’m all for realism now. I’ve
seen too much of miracles. You’ve heard that Father Zossima is dead?”
“No, madam, it’s the first time I’ve heard of it.” Mitya was a little
surprised. The image of Alyosha rose to his mind.
“Last night, and only imagine—”
“Madam,” said Mitya, “I can imagine nothing except that I’m in a
desperate position, and that if you don’t help me, everything will come
to grief, and I first of all. Excuse me for the triviality of the
expression, but I’m in a fever—”
“I know, I know that you’re in a fever. You could hardly fail to be,
and whatever you may say to me, I know beforehand. I have long been
thinking over your destiny, Dmitri Fyodorovitch, I am watching over it
and studying it.... Oh, believe me, I’m an experienced doctor of the
soul, Dmitri Fyodorovitch.”
“Madam, if you are an experienced doctor, I’m certainly an experienced
patient,” said Mitya, with an effort to be polite, “and I feel that if
you are watching over my destiny in this way, you will come to my help
in my ruin, and so allow me, at least to explain to you the plan with
which I have ventured to come to you ... and what I am hoping of
you.... I have come, madam—”
“Don’t explain it. It’s of secondary importance. But as for help,
you’re not the first I have helped, Dmitri Fyodorovitch. You have most
likely heard of my cousin, Madame Belmesov. Her husband was ruined,
‘had come to grief,’ as you characteristically express it, Dmitri
Fyodorovitch. I recommended him to take to horse-breeding, and now he’s
doing well. Have you any idea of horse-breeding, Dmitri Fyodorovitch?”
“Not the faintest, madam; ah, madam, not the faintest!” cried Mitya, in
nervous impatience, positively starting from his seat. “I simply
implore you, madam, to listen to me. Only give me two minutes of free
speech that I may just explain to you everything, the whole plan with
which I have come. Besides, I am short of time. I’m in a fearful
hurry,” Mitya cried hysterically, feeling that she was just going to
begin talking again, and hoping to cut her short. “I have come in
despair ... in the last gasp of despair, to beg you to lend me the sum
of three thousand, a loan, but on safe, most safe security, madam, with
the most trustworthy guarantees! Only let me explain—”
“You must tell me all that afterwards, afterwards!” Madame Hohlakov
with a gesture demanded silence in her turn, “and whatever you may tell
me, I know it all beforehand; I’ve told you so already. You ask for a
certain sum, for three thousand, but I can give you more, immeasurably
more, I will save you, Dmitri Fyodorovitch, but you must listen to me.”
Mitya started from his seat again.
“Madam, will you really be so good!” he cried, with strong feeling.
“Good God, you’ve saved me! You have saved a man from a violent death,
from a bullet.... My eternal gratitude—”
“I will give you more, infinitely more than three thousand!” cried
Madame Hohlakov, looking with a radiant smile at Mitya’s ecstasy.
“Infinitely? But I don’t need so much. I only need that fatal three
thousand, and on my part I can give security for that sum with infinite
gratitude, and I propose a plan which—”
“Enough, Dmitri Fyodorovitch, it’s said and done.” Madame Hohlakov cut
him short, with the modest triumph of beneficence: “I have promised to
save you, and I will save you. I will save you as I did Belmesov. What
do you think of the gold-mines, Dmitri Fyodorovitch?”
“Of the gold-mines, madam? I have never thought anything about them.”
“But I have thought of them for you. Thought of them over and over
again. I have been watching you for the last month. I’ve watched you a
hundred times as you’ve walked past, saying to myself: that’s a man of
energy who ought to be at the gold-mines. I’ve studied your gait and
come to the conclusion: that’s a man who would find gold.”
“From my gait, madam?” said Mitya, smiling.
“Yes, from your gait. You surely don’t deny that character can be told
from the gait, Dmitri Fyodorovitch? Science supports the idea. I’m all
for science and realism now. After all this business with Father
Zossima, which has so upset me, from this very day I’m a realist and I
want to devote myself to practical usefulness. I’m cured. ‘Enough!’ as
Turgenev says.”
“But, madam, the three thousand you so generously promised to lend me—”
“It is yours, Dmitri Fyodorovitch,” Madame Hohlakov cut in at once.
“The money is as good as in your pocket, not three thousand, but three
million, Dmitri Fyodorovitch, in less than no time. I’ll make you a
present of the idea: you shall find gold-mines, make millions, return
and become a leading man, and wake us up and lead us to better things.
Are we to leave it all to the Jews? You will found institutions and
enterprises of all sorts. You will help the poor, and they will bless
you. This is the age of railways, Dmitri Fyodorovitch. You’ll become
famous and indispensable to the Department of Finance, which is so
badly off at present. The depreciation of the rouble keeps me awake at
night, Dmitri Fyodorovitch; people don’t know that side of me—”
“Madam, madam!” Dmitri interrupted with an uneasy presentiment. “I
shall indeed, perhaps, follow your advice, your wise advice, madam....
I shall perhaps set off ... to the gold-mines.... I’ll come and see you
again about it ... many times, indeed ... but now, that three thousand
you so generously ... oh, that would set me free, and if you could
to-day ... you see, I haven’t a minute, a minute to lose to-day—”
“Enough, Dmitri Fyodorovitch, enough!” Madame Hohlakov interrupted
emphatically. “The question is, will you go to the gold-mines or not;
have you quite made up your mind? Answer yes or no.”
“I will go, madam, afterwards.... I’ll go where you like ... but now—”
“Wait!” cried Madame Hohlakov. And jumping up and running to a handsome
bureau with numerous little drawers, she began pulling out one drawer
after another, looking for something with desperate haste.
“The three thousand,” thought Mitya, his heart almost stopping, “and at
the instant ... without any papers or formalities ... that’s doing
things in gentlemanly style! She’s a splendid woman, if only she didn’t
talk so much!”
“Here!” cried Madame Hohlakov, running back joyfully to Mitya, “here is
what I was looking for!”