Complete Works of Fyodor Dostoyevsky (830 page)

BOOK: Complete Works of Fyodor Dostoyevsky
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The young man looked compassionately at the gentleman in raccoon, who seemed in a hopeless muddle and pausing, stared at him with a meaningless smile and with a trembling hand for no apparent reason gripped the lappet of his wadded overcoat.

“You ask who lives here?” said the young man, stepping back a little.

“Yes; you told me lots of people live here.”

“Here ... I know that Sofya Ostafyevna lives here, too,” the young man brought out in a low and even commiserating tone.

“There, you see, you see! You know something, young man?”

“I assure you I don’t, I know nothing ... I judged from your troubled air....”

“I have just learned from the cook that she does come here; but you are on the wrong tack, that is, with Sofya Ostafyevna ... she does not know her....”

“No? Oh ... I beg your pardon, then....”

“I see this is of no interest to you, young man,” said the queer man, with bitter irony.

“Listen,” said the young man, hesitating. “I really don’t understand why you are in such a state, but tell me frankly, I suppose you are being deceived?” The young man smiled approvingly. “We shall understand one another, anyway,” he added, and his whole person loftily betrayed an inclination to make a half-bow.

“You crush me! But I frankly confess that is just it ... but it happens to every one!... I am deeply touched by your sympathy. To be sure, among young men ... though I am not young; but you know, habit, a bachelor life, among bachelors, we all know....”

“Oh, yes, we all know, we all know! But in what way can I be of assistance to you?”

“Why, look here: admitting a visit to Sofya Ostafyevna ... though I don’t know for a fact where the lady has gone, I only know that she is in that house; but seeing you walking up and down, and I am walking up and down on the same side myself, I thought ... you see, I am waiting for that lady ... I know that she is there. I should like to meet her and explain to her how shocking and improper it is!... In fact, you understand me....”

“H’m! Well?”

“I am not acting for myself; don’t imagine it; it is another man’s wife! Her husband is standing over there on the Voznesensky Bridge; he wants to catch her, but he doesn’t dare; he is still loath to believe it, as every husband is.” (Here the gentleman in raccoon made an effort to smile.) “I am a friend of his; you can see for yourself I am a person held in some esteem; I could not be what you take me for.”

“Oh, of course. Well, well!”

“So, you see, I am on the look out for her. The task has been entrusted to me (the unhappy husband!). But I know that the young lady is sly (Paul de Kock for ever under her pillow); I am certain she scurries off somewhere on the sly.... I must confess the cook told me she comes here; I rushed off like a madman as soon as I heard the news; I want to catch her. I have long had suspicions, and so I wanted to ask you; you are walking here ... you — you — I don’t know....”

“Come, what is it you want?”

“Yes ... I have not the honour of your acquaintance; I do not venture to inquire who and what you may be.... Allow me to introduce myself, anyway; glad to meet you!...”

The gentleman, quivering with agitation, warmly shook the young man’s hand.

“I ought to have done this to begin with,” he added, “but I have lost all sense of good manners.”

The gentleman in raccoon could not stand still as he talked; he kept looking about him uneasily, fidgeted with his feet, and like a drowning man clutched at the young man’s hand.

“You see,” he went on, “I meant to address you in a friendly way.... Excuse the freedom.... I meant to ask you to walk along the other side and down the side street, where there is a back entrance. I, too, on my side, will walk from the front entrance, so that we cannot miss her; I’m afraid of missing her by myself; I don’t want to miss her. When you see her, stop her and shout to me.... But I’m mad! Only now I see the foolishness and impropriety of my suggestion!...”

“No, why, no! It’s all right!...”

“Don’t make excuses for me; I am so upset. I have never been in such a state before. As though I were being tried for my life! I must own indeed — I will be straightforward and honourable with you, young man; I actually thought you might be the lover.”

“That is, to put it simply, you want to know what I am doing here?”

“You are an honourable man, my dear sir. I am far from supposing that you are
he
, I will not insult you with such a suspicion; but ... give me your word of honour that you are not the lover....”

“Oh, very well, I’ll give you my word of honour that I am a lover, but not of your wife; otherwise I shouldn’t be here in the street, but should be with her now!”

“Wife! Who told you she was my wife, young man? I am a bachelor, I — that is, I am a lover myself....”

“You told me there is a husband on Voznesensky Bridge....”

“Of course, of course, I am talking too freely; but there are other ties! And you know, young man, a certain lightness of character, that is....”

“Yes, yes, to be sure, to be sure....”

“That is, I am not her husband at all....”

“Oh, no doubt. But I tell you frankly that in reassuring you now, I want to set my own mind at rest, and that is why I am candid with you; you are upsetting me and in my way. I promise that I will call you. But I most humbly beg you to move further away and let me alone. I am waiting for some one too.”

“Certainly, certainly, I will move further off. I respect the passionate impatience of your heart. Oh, how well I understand you at this moment!”

“Oh, all right, all right....”

“Till we meet again!... But excuse me, young man, here I am again ... I don’t know how to say it ... give me your word of honour once more, as a gentleman, that you are not her lover.”

“Oh, mercy on us!”

“One more question, the last: do you know the surname of the husband of your ... that is, I mean the lady who is the object of your devotion?”

“Of course I do; it is not your name, and that is all about it.”

“Why, how do you know my name?”

“But, I say, you had better go; you are losing time; she might go away a thousand times. Why, what do you want? Your lady’s in a fox cape and a hood, while mine is wearing a plaid cloak and a pale blue velvet hat.... What more do you want? What else?”

“A pale blue velvet hat! She has a plaid cloak and a pale blue velvet hat!” cried the pertinacious man, instantly turning back again.

“Oh, hang it all! Why, that may well be.... And, indeed, my lady does not come here!”

“Where is she, then — your lady?”

“You want to know that? What is it to you?”

“I must own, I am still....”

“Tfoo! Mercy on us! Why, you have no sense of decency, none at all. Well, my lady has friends here, on the third storey looking into the street. Why, do you want me to tell you their names?”

“My goodness, I have friends too, who live on the third storey, and their windows look on to the street.... General....”

“General!”

“A general. If you like I will tell you what general: well, then ... General Polovitsyn.”

“You don’t say so! No, that is not the same! (Oh, damnation, damnation!).”

“Not the same?”

“No, not the same.”

Both were silent, looking at each other in perplexity.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” exclaimed the young man, shaking off his stupefaction and air of uncertainty with vexation.

The gentleman was in a fluster.

“I ... I must own....”

“Come, allow me, allow me; let us talk more sensibly now. It concerns us both. Explain to me ... whom do you know there?”

“You mean, who are my friends?”

“Yes, your friends....”

“Well, you see ... you see!... I see from your eyes that I have guessed right!”

“Hang it all! No, no, hang it all! Are you blind? Why, I am standing here before you, I am not with her. Oh, well! I don’t care, whether you say so or not!”

Twice in his fury the young man turned on his heel with a contemptuous wave of his hand.

“Oh, I meant nothing, I assure you. As an honourable man I will tell you all about it. At first my wife used to come here alone. They are relatives of hers; I had no suspicions; yesterday I met his Excellency: he told me that he had moved three weeks ago from here to another flat, and my wi ... that is, not mine, but somebody else’s (the husband’s on the Voznesensky Bridge) ... that lady had told me that she was with them the day before yesterday, in this flat I mean ... and the cook told me that his Excellency’s flat had been taken by a young man called Bobynitsyn....”

“Oh, damn it all, damn it all!...”

“My dear sir, I am in terror, I am in alarm!”

“Oh, hang it! What is it to me that you are in terror and in alarm? Ah! Over there ... some one flitted by ... over there....”

“Where, where? You just shout, ‘Ivan Andreyitch,’ and I will run....”

“All right, all right. Oh, confound it! Ivan Andreyitch!”

“Here I am,” cried Ivan Andreyitch, returning, utterly breathless. “What is it, what is it? Where?”

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean anything ... I wanted to know what this lady’s name is.”

“Glaf....”

“Glafira?”

“No, not Glafira.... Excuse me, I cannot tell you her name.”

As he said this the worthy man was as white as a sheet.

“Oh, of course it is not Glafira, I know it is not Glafira, and mine’s not Glafira; but with whom can she be?”

“Where?”

“There! Oh, damn it, damn it!” (The young man was in such a fury that he could not stand still.)

“There, you see! How did you know that her name was Glafira?”

“Oh, damn it all, really! To have a bother with you, too! Why, you say — that yours is not called Glafira!...”

“My dear sir, what a way to speak!”

“Oh, the devil! As though that mattered now! What is she? Your wife?”

“No — that is, I am not married.... But I would not keep flinging the devil at a respectable man in trouble, a man, I will not say worthy of esteem, but at any rate a man of education. You keep saying, ‘The devil, the devil!’”

“To be sure, the devil take it; so there you are, do you understand?”

“You are blinded by anger, and I say nothing. Oh, dear, who is that?”

“Where?”

There was a noise and a sound of laughter; two pretty girls ran down the steps; both the men rushed up to them.

“Oh, what manners! What do you want?”

“Where are you shoving?”

“They are not the right ones!”

“Aha, so you’ve pitched on the wrong ones! Cab!”

“Where do you want to go, mademoiselle?”

“To Pokrov. Get in, Annushka; I’ll take you.”

“Oh, I’ll sit on the other side; off! Now, mind you drive quickly.”

The cab drove off.

“Where did they come from?”

“Oh, dear, oh, dear! Hadn’t we better go there?”

“Where?”

“Why, to Bobynitsyn’s....”

“No, that’s out of the question.”

“Why?”

“I would go there, of course, but then she would tell me some other story; she would ... get out of it. She would say that she had come on purpose to catch me with some one, and I should get into trouble.”

“And, you know, she may be there! But you — I don’t know for what reason — why, you might go to the general’s....”

“But, you know, he has moved!”

“That doesn’t matter, you know. She has gone there; so you go, too — don’t you understand? Behave as though you didn’t know the general had gone away. Go as though you had come to fetch your wife, and so on.”

“And then?”

“Well, and then find the person you want at Bobynitsyn’s. Tfoo, damnation take you, what a senseless....”

“Well, and what is it to you, my finding? You see, you see!”

“What, what, my good man? What? You are on the same old tack again. Oh, Lord have mercy on us! You ought to be ashamed, you absurd person, you senseless person!”

“Yes, but why are you so interested? Do you want to find out....”

“Find out what? What? Oh, well, damnation take you! I have no thoughts for you now; I’ll go alone. Go away; get along; look out; be off!”

“My dear sir, you are almost forgetting yourself!” cried the gentleman in raccoon in despair.

“Well, what of it? What if I am forgetting myself?” said the young man, setting his teeth and stepping up to the gentleman in raccoon in a fury. “What of it? Forgetting myself before whom?” he thundered, clenching his fists.

“But allow me, sir....”

“Well, who are you, before whom I am forgetting myself? What is your name?”

“I don’t know about that, young man; why do you want my name?... I cannot tell it you.... I better come with you. Let us go; I won’t hang back; I am ready for anything.... But I assure you I deserve greater politeness and respect! You ought never to lose your self-possession, and if you are upset about something — I can guess what about — at any rate there is no need to forget yourself.... You are still a very, very young man!...”

“What is it to me that you are old? There’s nothing wonderful in that! Go away. Why are you dancing about here?”

“How am I old? Of course, in position; but I am not dancing about....”

“I can see that. But get away with you.”

“No, I’ll stay with you; you cannot forbid me; I am mixed up in it, too; I will come with you....”

“Well, then, keep quiet, keep quiet, hold your tongue....”

They both went up the steps and ascended the stairs to the third storey. It was rather dark.

“Stay; have you got matches?”

“Matches! What matches?”

“Do you smoke cigars?”

“Oh, yes, I have, I have; here they are, here they are; here, stay....” The gentleman in raccoon rummaged in a fluster.

“Tfoo, what a senseless ... damnation! I believe this is the door....”

“This, this, this?”

“This, this, this... Why are you bawling? Hush!...”

“My dear sir, overcoming my feelings, I ... you are a reckless fellow, so there!...”

The light flared up.

“Yes, so it is; here is the brass plate. This is Bobynitsyn’s; do you see Bobynitsyn?”

“I see it, I see it.”

“Hu-ush!”

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