The possessed or, The devils
conquer them. He is 'in hiding,' and will come forth bringing a new
truth. And, meanwhile, we'll pass two or three judgments as wise
as Solomon's. The groups, you know, the quintets--we've no need of
newspapers. If out of ten thousand petitions only one is granted, all
would come with petitions. In every parish, every peasant will know that
there is somewhere a hollow tree where petitions are to be put. And the
whole land will resound with the cry, 'A new just law is to come,' and
the sea will be troubled and the whole gimcrack show will fall to the
ground, and then we shall consider how to build up an edifice of stone.
For the first time! We are going to build it, we, and only we!"
* The reference is to the legend current in the sect of
Flagellants.--Translator's note.
"Madness," said Stavrogin.
"Why, why don't you want it? Are you afraid? That's why I caught at you,
because you are afraid of nothing. Is it unreasonable? But you see, so
far I am Columbus without America. Would Columbus without America seem
reasonable?"
Stavrogin did not speak. Meanwhile they had reached the house and
stopped at the entrance.
"Listen," Verhovensky bent down to his ear. "I'll do it for you without
the money. I'll settle Marya Timofyevna to-morrow!... Without the money,
and to-morrow I'll bring you Liza. Will you have Liza to-morrow?"
"Is he really mad?" Stavrogin wondered smiling. The front door was
opened.
"Stavrogin--is America ours?" said Verhovensky, seizing his hand for the
last time.
"What for?" said Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch, gravely and sternly.
"You don't care, I knew that!" cried Verhovensky in an access of furious
anger. "You are lying, you miserable, profligate, perverted, little
aristocrat! I don't believe you, you've the appetite of a wolf!...
Understand that you've cost me such a price, I can't give you up now!
There's no one on earth but you! I invented you abroad; I invented it
all, looking at you. If I hadn't watched you from my corner, nothing of
all this would have entered my head!"
Stavrogin went up the steps without answering.
"Stavrogin!" Verhovensky called after him, "I give you a day... two,
then... three, then; more than three I can't--and then you're to
answer!"
CHAPTER IX. A RAID AT STEPAN TROFIMOVITCH'S
Meanwhile an incident had occurred which astounded me and shattered
Stepan Trofimovitch. At eight o'clock in the morning Nastasya ran round
to me from him with the news that her master was "raided." At first I
could not make out what she meant; I could only gather that the "raid"
was carried out by officials, that they had come and taken his papers,
and that a soldier had tied them up in a bundle and "wheeled them away
in a barrow." It was a fantastic story. I hurried at once to Stepan
Trofimovitch.
I found him in a surprising condition: upset and in great agitation, but
at the same time unmistakably triumphant. On the table in the middle of
the room the samovar was boiling, and there was a glass of tea poured
out but untouched and forgotten. Stepan Trofimovitch was wandering round
the table and peeping into every corner of the room, unconscious of what
he was doing. He was wearing his usual red knitted jacket, but seeing
me, he hurriedly put on his coat and waistcoat--a thing he had never
done before when any of his intimate friends found him in his jacket. He
took me warmly by the hand at once.
_"Enfin un ami!"_ (He heaved a deep sigh.) "_Cher,_ I've sent to you only,
and no one knows anything. We must give Nastasya orders to lock the
doors and not admit anyone, except, of course them.... _Vous comprenez?_"
He looked at me uneasily, as though expecting a reply. I made haste, of
course, to question him, and from his disconnected and broken sentences,
full of unnecessary parentheses, I succeeded in learning that at seven
o'clock that morning an official of the province had 'all of a sudden'
called on him.
"_Pardon, j'ai oublié son nom. Il n'est pas du pays,_ but I think he came
to the town with Lembke, _quelque chose de bête et d'Allemand dans la
physionomie. Il s'appelle Rosenthal._"
"Wasn't it Blum?"
"Yes, that was his name. _Vous le connaissez? Quelque chose d'hébété et
de très content dans la figure, pourtant très sevère, roide et sérieux._
A type of the police, of the submissive subordinates, _je m'y connais._ I
was still asleep, and, would you believe it, he asked to have a look at
my books and manuscripts! _Oui, je m'en souviens, il a employé ce mot._ He
did not arrest me, but only the books. _Il se tenait à distance,_ and when
he began to explain his visit he looked as though I... _enfin il
avait l'air de croire que je tomberai sur lui immédiatement et que je
commencerai a le battre comme plâtre. Tous ces gens du bas étage sont
comme ça_ when they have to do with a gentleman. I need hardly say I
understood it all at once. _Voilà vingt ans que je m'y prépare._ I opened
all the drawers and handed him all the keys; I gave them myself, I gave
him all. _J'étais digne et calme._ From the books he took the foreign
edition of Herzen, the bound volume of _The Bell,_ four copies of my poem,
_et enfin tout ça._ Then he took my letters and my papers _et quelques-unes
de mes ébauches historiques, critiques et politiques._ All that they
carried off. Nastasya says that a soldier wheeled them away in a barrow
and covered them with an apron; _oui, c'est cela,_ with an apron." It
sounded like delirium. Who could make head or tail of it? I pelted him
with questions again. Had Blum come alone, or with others? On whose
authority? By what right? How had he dared? How did he explain it?
"_Il etait seul, bien seul,_ but there was someone else _dans
l'antichambre, oui, je m'en souviens, et puis..._ Though I believe there
was someone else besides, and there was a guard standing in the entry.
You must ask Nastasya; she knows all about it better than I do. _J'étais
surexcité, voyez-vous. Il parlait, il parlait... un tas de chases_; he
said very little though, it was I said all that.... I told him the
story of my life, simply from that point of view, of course. _J'étais
surexcité, mais digne, je vous assure...._ I am afraid, though, I may
have shed tears. They got the barrow from the shop next door."
"Oh, heavens! how could all this have happened? But for mercy's sake,
speak more exactly, Stepan Trofimovitch. What you tell me sounds like a
dream."
"_Cher,_ I feel as though I were in a dream myself.... _Savez-vous! Il
a prononcé le nom de Telyatnikof,_ and I believe that that man was
concealed in the entry. Yes, I remember, he suggested calling the
prosecutor and Dmitri Dmitritch, I believe... _qui me doit encore quinze
roubles_ I won at cards, _soit dit en passant. Enfin, je n'ai pas trop
compris._ But I got the better of them, and what do I care for Dmitri
Dmitritch? I believe I begged him very earnestly to keep it quiet;
I begged him particularly, most particularly. I am afraid I demeaned
myself, in fact, _comment croyez-vous? Enfin il a consenti._ Yes, I
remember, he suggested that himself--that it would be better to keep it
quiet, for he had only come 'to have a look round' _et rien de plus,_ and
nothing more, nothing more... and that if they find nothing, nothing
will happen. So that we ended it all _en amis, je suis tout à fait
content._"
"Why, then he suggested the usual course of proceedings in such cases
and regular guarantees, and you rejected them yourself," I cried with
friendly indignation.
"Yes, it's better without the guarantees. And why make a scandal? Let's
keep it _en amis_ so long as we can. You know, in our town, if they get to
know it... _mes ennemis, et puis, à quoi bon, le procureur, ce cochon de
notre procureur, qui deux fois m'a manqué de politesse et qu'on a rossé
à plaisir l'autre année chez cette charmante et belle Natalya Pavlovna
quand il se cacha dans son boudoir. Et puis, mon ami,_ don't make
objections and don't depress me, I beg you, for nothing is more
unbearable when a man is in trouble than for a hundred friends to point
out to him what a fool he has made of himself. Sit down though and have
some tea. I must admit I am awfully tired.... Hadn't I better lie down
and put vinegar on my head? What do you think?"
"Certainly," I cried, "ice even. You are very much upset. You are pale
and your hands are trembling. Lie down, rest, and put off telling me.
I'll sit by you and wait."
He hesitated, but I insisted on his lying down. Nastasya brought a cup
of vinegar. I wetted a towel and laid it on his head. Then Nastasya
stood on a chair and began lighting a lamp before the ikon in the
corner. I noticed this with surprise; there had never been a lamp there
before and now suddenly it had made its appearance.
"I arranged for that as soon as they had gone away," muttered Stepan
Trofimovitch, looking at me slyly. "_Quand on a de ces choses-là dans sa
chambre et qu'on vient vous arrêter_ it makes an impression and they are
sure to report that they have seen it...."
When she had done the lamp, Nastasya stood in the doorway, leaned her
cheek in her right hand, and began gazing at him with a lachrymose air.
"_Eloignez-la_ on some excuse," he nodded to me from the sofa. "I can't
endure this Russian sympathy, _et puis ça m'embête._"
But she went away of herself. I noticed that he kept looking towards the
door and listening for sounds in the passage.
_"Il faut être prêt, voyez-vous,"_ he said, looking at me significantly,
_"chaque moment..._ they may come and take one and, phew!--a man
disappears."
"Heavens! who'll come? Who will take you?"
"_Voyez-vous, mon cher,_ I asked straight out when he was going away, what
would they do to me now."
"You'd better have asked them where you'd be exiled!" I cried out in the
same indignation.
"That's just what I meant when I asked, but he went away without
answering. _Voyez-vous:_ as for linen, clothes, warm things especially,
that must be as they decide; if they tell me to take them--all right,
or they might send me in a soldier's overcoat. But I thrust thirty-five
roubles" (he suddenly dropped his voice, looking towards the door by
which Nastasya had gone out) "in a slit in my waistcoat pocket, here,
feel.... I believe they won't take the waistcoat off, and left seven
roubles in my purse to keep up appearances, as though that were all I
have. You see, it's in small change and the coppers are on the table,
so they won't guess that I've hidden the money, but will suppose that
that's all. For God knows where I may have to sleep to-night!"
I bowed my head before such madness. It was obvious that a man could not
be arrested and searched in the way he was describing, and he must
have mixed things up. It's true it all happened in the days before our
present, more recent regulations. It is true, too, that according to his
own account they had offered to follow the more regular procedure, but
he "got the better of them" and refused.... Of course not long ago a
governor might, in extreme cases.... But how could this be an extreme
case? That's what baffled me.
"No doubt they had a telegram from Petersburg," Stepan Trofimovitch said
suddenly.
"A telegram? About you? Because of the works of Herzen and your poem?
Have you taken leave of your senses? What is there in that to arrest you
for?"
I was positively angry. He made a grimace and was evidently
mortified--not at my exclamation, but at the idea that there was no
ground for arrest.
"Who can tell in our day what he may not be arrested for?" he muttered
enigmatically.
A wild and nonsensical idea crossed my mind.
"Stepan Trofimovitch, tell me as a friend," I cried, "as a real friend,
I will not betray you: do you belong to some secret society or not?"