The possessed or, The devils
"Yes, knife, you've a knife in your pocket. You thought I was asleep but
I saw it. When you came in just now you took out your knife!"
"What are you saying, unhappy creature? What dreams you have!" he
exclaimed, pushing her away from him with all his might, so that her
head and shoulders fell painfully against the sofa. He was rushing away;
but she at once flew to overtake him, limping and hopping, and though
Lebyadkin, panic-stricken, held her back with all his might, she
succeeded in shouting after him into the darkness, shrieking and
laughing:
"A curse on you, Grishka Otrepyev!"
IV
"A knife, a knife," he repeated with uncontrollable anger, striding
along through the mud and puddles, without picking his way. It is true
that at moments he had a terrible desire to laugh aloud frantically; but
for some reason he controlled himself and restrained his laughter. He
recovered himself only on the bridge, on the spot where Fedka had met
him that evening. He found the man lying in wait for him again. Seeing
Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch he took off his cap, grinned gaily, and
began babbling briskly and merrily about something. At first Nikolay
Vsyevolodovitch walked on without stopping, and for some time did not
even listen to the tramp who was pestering him again. He was suddenly
struck by the thought that he had entirely forgotten him, and had
forgotten him at the very moment when he himself was repeating, "A
knife, a knife." He seized the tramp by the collar and gave vent to
his pent-up rage by flinging him violently against the bridge. For one
instant the man thought of fighting, but almost at once realising that
compared with his adversary, who had fallen upon him unawares, he was
no better than a wisp of straw, he subsided and was silent, without
offering any resistance. Crouching on the ground with his elbows crooked
behind his back, the wily tramp calmly waited for what would happen
next, apparently quite incredulous of danger. He was right in his
reckoning. Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch had already with his left hand taken
off his thick scarf to tie his prisoner's arms, but suddenly, for some
reason, he abandoned him, and shoved him away. The man instantly sprang
on to his feet, turned round, and a short, broad boot-knife suddenly
gleamed in his hand.
"Away with that knife; put it away, at once!" Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch
commanded with an impatient gesture, and the knife vanished as
instantaneously as it had appeared.
Without speaking again or turning round, Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch went on
his way. But the persistent vagabond did not leave him even now, though
now, it is true, he did not chatter, and even respectfully kept his
distance, a full step behind.
They crossed the bridge like this and came out on to the river bank,
turning this time to the left, again into a long deserted back street,
which led to the centre of the town by a shorter way than going through
Bogoyavlensky Street.
"Is it true, as they say, that you robbed a church in the district the
other day?" Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch asked suddenly.
"I went in to say my prayers in the first place," the tramp answered,
sedately and respectfully as though nothing had happened; more than
sedately, in fact, almost with dignity. There was no trace of his
former "friendly" familiarity. All that was to be seen was a serious,
business-like man, who had indeed been gratuitously insulted, but who
was capable of overlooking an insult.
"But when the Lord led me there," he went on, "ech, I thought what a
heavenly abundance! It was all owing to my helpless state, as in our
way of life there's no doing without assistance. And, now, God be my
witness, sir, it was my own loss. The Lord punished me for my sins, and
what with the censer and the deacon's halter, I only got twelve roubles
altogether. The chin setting of St. Nikolay of pure silver went for next
to nothing. They said it was plated."
"You killed the watchman?"
"That is, I cleared the place out together with that watchman, but
afterwards, next morning, by the river, we fell to quarrelling which
should carry the sack. I sinned, I did lighten his load for him."
"Well, you can rob and murder again."
"That's the very advice Pyotr Stepanovitch gives me, in the very
same words, for he's uncommonly mean and hard-hearted about helping a
fellow-creature. And what's more, he hasn't a ha'p'orth of belief in the
Heavenly Creator, who made us out of earthly clay; but he says it's all
the work of nature even to the last beast. He doesn't understand either
that with our way of life it's impossible for us to get along without
friendly assistance. If you begin to talk to him he looks like a
sheep at the water; it makes one wonder. Would you believe, at Captain
Lebyadkin's, out yonder, whom your honour's just been visiting, when he
was living at Filipov's, before you came, the door stood open all night
long. He'd be drunk and sleeping like the dead, and his money dropping
out of his pockets all over the floor. I've chanced to see it with
my own eyes, for in our way of life it's impossible to live without
assistance...."
"How do you mean with your own eyes? Did you go in at night then?"
"Maybe I did go in, but no one knows of it."
"Why didn't you kill him?"
"Reckoning it out, I steadied myself. For once having learned for sure
that I can always get one hundred and fifty roubles, why should I go so
far when I can get fifteen hundred roubles, if I only bide my time. For
Captain Lebyadkin (I've heard him with my own ears) had great hopes of
you when he was drunk; and there isn't a tavern here--not the lowest
pot-house--where he hasn't talked about it when he was in that state.
So that hearing it from many lips, I began, too, to rest all my hopes
on your excellency. I speak to you, sir, as to my father, or my own
brother; for Pyotr Stepanovitch will never learn that from me, and not
a soul in the world. So won't your excellency spare me three roubles in
your kindness? You might set my mind at rest, so that I might know the
real truth; for we can't get on without assistance."
Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch laughed aloud, and taking out his purse, in
which he had as much as fifty roubles, in small notes, threw him one
note out of the bundle, then a second, a third, a fourth. Fedka flew to
catch them in the air. The notes dropped into the mud, and he snatched
them up crying, "Ech! ech!" Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch finished by flinging
the whole bundle at him, and, still laughing, went on down the street,
this time alone. The tramp remained crawling on his knees in the mud,
looking for the notes which were blown about by the wind and soaking in
the puddles, and for an hour after his spasmodic cries of "Ech! ech!"
were still to be heard in the darkness.
CHAPTER III. THE DUEL
I
THE NEXT DAY, at two o'clock in the afternoon, the duel took place as
arranged. Things were hastened forward by Gaganov's obstinate desire to
fight at all costs. He did not understand his adversary's conduct,
and was in a fury. For a whole month he had been insulting him with
impunity, and had so far been unable to make him lose patience. What he
wanted was a challenge on the part of Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch, as he had
not himself any direct pretext for challenging him. His secret motive
for it, that is, his almost morbid hatred of Stavrogin for the insult to
his family four years before, he was for some reason ashamed to confess.
And indeed he regarded this himself as an impossible pretext for a
challenge, especially in view of the humble apology offered by Nikolay
Stavrogin twice already. He privately made up his mind that Stavrogin
was a shameless coward; and could not understand how he could have
accepted Shatov's blow. So he made up his mind at last to send him
the extraordinarily rude letter that had finally roused Nikolay
Vsyevolodovitch himself to propose a meeting. Having dispatched this
letter the day before, he awaited a challenge with feverish impatience,
and while morbidly reckoning the chances at one moment with hope and
at the next with despair, he got ready for any emergency by securing a
second, to wit, Mavriky Nikolaevitch Drozdov, who was a friend of his,
an old schoolfellow, a man for whom he had a great respect. So when
Kirillov came next morning at nine o'clock with his message he found
things in readiness. All the apologies and unheard-of condescension of
Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch were at once, at the first word, rejected with
extraordinary exasperation. Mavriky Nikolaevitch, who had only been made
acquainted with the position of affairs the evening before, opened his
mouth with surprise at such incredible concessions, and would have urged
a reconciliation, but seeing that Gaganov, guessing his intention, was
almost trembling in his chair, refrained, and said nothing. If it had
not been for the promise given to his old schoolfellow he would have
retired immediately; he only remained in the hope of being some help on
the scene of action. Kirillov repeated the challenge. All the conditions
of the encounter made by Stavrogin were accepted on the spot, without
the faintest objection. Only one addition was made, and that a ferocious
one. If the first shots had no decisive effect, they were to fire again,
and if the second encounter were inconclusive, it was to be followed by
a third. Kirillov frowned, objected to the third encounter, but gaining
nothing by his efforts agreed on the condition, however, that three
should be the limit, and that "a fourth encounter was out of the
question." This was conceded. Accordingly at two o'clock in the
afternoon the meeting took place at Brykov, that is, in a little
copse in the outskirts of the town, lying between Skvoreshniki and the
Shpigulin factory. The rain of the previous night was over, but it was
damp, grey, and windy. Low, ragged, dingy clouds moved rapidly across
the cold sky. The tree-tops roared with a deep droning sound, and
creaked on their roots; it was a melancholy morning.
Mavriky Nikolaevitch and Gaganov arrived on the spot in a smart
char-à-banc with a pair of horses driven by the latter. They were
accompanied by a groom. Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch and Kirillov arrived
almost at the same instant. They were not driving, they were on
horseback, and were also followed by a mounted servant. Kirillov, who
had never mounted a horse before, sat up boldly, erect in the saddle,
grasping in his right hand the heavy box of pistols which he would not
entrust to the servant. In his inexperience he was continually with his
left hand tugging at the reins, which made the horse toss his head and
show an inclination to rear. This, however, seemed to cause his rider no
uneasiness. Gaganov, who was morbidly suspicious and always ready to be
deeply offended, considered their coming on horseback as a fresh insult
to himself, inasmuch as it showed that his opponents were too confident
of success, since they had not even thought it necessary to have a
carriage in case of being wounded and disabled. He got out of his
char-à-banc, yellow with anger, and felt that his hands were trembling,
as he told Mavriky Nikolaevitch. He made no response at all to Nikolay
Vsyevolodovitch's bow, and turned away. The seconds cast lots. The lot
fell on Kirillov's pistols. They measured out the barrier and placed the
combatants. The servants with the carriage and horses were moved
back three hundred paces. The weapons were loaded and handed to the
combatants.
I'm sorry that I have to tell my story more quickly and have no time
for descriptions. But I can't refrain from some comments. Mavriky
Nikolaevitch was melancholy and preoccupied. Kirillov, on the other
hand, was perfectly calm and unconcerned, very exact over the details