Gania,” said the prince;“for if what you say is true, he must be considered dangerous in theEpanchin household, and if so, certain hopes of his must have beenencouraged.”
“What? What hopes?” cried Colia; “you surely don’t mean Aglaya?--oh,no!--”
“You’re a dreadful sceptic, prince,” he continued, after a moment’ssilence. “I have observed of late that you have grown sceptical abouteverything. You don’t seem to believe in people as you did, and arealways attributing motives and so on--am I using the word ‘sceptic’ inits proper sense?”
“I believe so; but I’m not sure.”
“Well, I’ll change it, right or wrong; I’ll say that you are notsceptical, but _jealous_. There! you are deadly jealous of Gania, overa certain proud damsel! Come!” Colia jumped up, with these words, andburst out laughing. He laughed as he had perhaps never laughed before,and still more when he saw the prince flushing up to his temples. He wasdelighted that the prince should be jealous about Aglaya. However, hestopped immediately on seeing that the other was really hurt, and theconversation continued, very earnestly, for an hour or more.
Next day the prince had to go to town, on business. Returning in theafternoon, he happened upon General Epanchin at the station. The latterseized his hand, glancing around nervously, as if he were afraidof being caught in wrong-doing, and dragged him into a first-classcompartment. He was burning to speak about something of importance.
“In the first place, my dear prince, don’t be angry with me. I wouldhave come to see you yesterday, but I didn’t know how LizabethaProkofievna would take it. My dear fellow, my house is simply a helljust now, a sort of sphinx has taken up its abode there. We live in anatmosphere of riddles; I can’t make head or tail of anything. As foryou, I feel sure you are the least to blame of any of us, though youcertainly have been the cause of a good deal of trouble. You see, it’sall very pleasant to be a philanthropist; but it can be carried too far.Of course I admire kind-heartedness, and I esteem my wife, but--”
The general wandered on in this disconnected way for a long time; itwas clear that he was much disturbed by some circumstance which he couldmake nothing of.
“It is plain to me, that _you_ are not in it at all,” he continued, atlast, a little less vaguely, “but perhaps you had better not come toour house for a little while. I ask you in the friendliest manner,mind; just till the wind changes again. As for Evgenie Pavlovitch,” hecontinued with some excitement, “the whole thing is a calumny, a dirtycalumny. It is simply a plot, an intrigue, to upset our plans and tostir up a quarrel. You see, prince, I’ll tell you privately, Evgenie andourselves have not said a word yet, we have no formal understanding, weare in no way bound on either side, but the word may be said very soon,don’t you see, _very_ soon, and all this is most injurious, and is meantto be so. Why? I’m sure I can’t tell you. She’s an extraordinary woman,you see, an eccentric woman; I tell you I am so frightened of that womanthat I can’t sleep. What a carriage that was, and where did it comefrom, eh? I declare, I was base enough to suspect Evgenie at first; butit seems certain that that cannot be the case, and if so, why is sheinterfering here? That’s the riddle, what does she want? Is it to keepEvgenie to herself? But, my dear fellow, I swear to you, I swear hedoesn’t even _know_ her, and as for those bills, why, the whole thing isan invention! And the familiarity of the woman! It’s quite clear we musttreat the impudent creature’s attempt with disdain, and redouble ourcourtesy towards Evgenie. I told my wife so.
“Now I’ll tell you my secret conviction. I’m certain that she’s doingthis to revenge herself on me, on account of the past, though I assureyou that all the time I was blameless. I blush at the very idea. Andnow she turns up again like this, when I thought she had finallydisappeared! Where’s Rogojin all this time? I thought she was Mrs.Rogojin, long ago.”
The old man was in a state of great mental perturbation. The whole ofthe journey, which occupied nearly an hour, he continued in this strain,putting questions and answering them himself, shrugging his shoulders,pressing the prince’s hand, and assuring the latter that, at allevents, he had no suspicion whatever of _him_. This last assurance wassatisfactory, at all events. The general finished by informing him thatEvgenie’s uncle was head of one of the civil service departments, andrich, very rich, and a gourmand. “And, well, Heaven preserve him, ofcourse--but Evgenie gets his money, don’t you see? But, for all this,I’m uncomfortable, I don’t know why. There’s something in the air, Ifeel there’s something nasty in the air, like a bat, and I’m by no meanscomfortable.”
And it was not until the third day that the formal reconciliationbetween the prince and the Epanchins took place, as said before.
XII.
It was seven in the evening, and the prince was just preparing to goout for a walk in the park, when suddenly Mrs. Epanchin appeared on theterrace.
“In the first place, don’t dare to suppose,” she began, “that I am goingto apologize. Nonsense! You were entirely to blame.”
The prince remained silent.
“Were you to blame, or not?”
“No, certainly not, no more than yourself, though at first I thought Iwas.”
“Oh, very well, let’s sit down, at all events, for I don’t intend tostand up all day. And remember, if you say, one word about ‘mischievousurchins,’ I shall go away and break with you altogether. Now then, didyou, or did you not, send a letter to Aglaya, a couple of months or soago, about Easter-tide?”
“Yes!”
“What for? What was your object? Show me the letter.” Mrs. Epanchin’seyes flashed; she was almost trembling with impatience.
“I have not got the letter,” said the prince, timidly, extremelysurprised at the turn the conversation had taken. “If anyone has it, ifit still exists, Aglaya Ivanovna must have it.”
“No finessing, please. What did you write about?”
“I am not finessing, and I am not in the least afraid of telling you;but I don’t see the slightest reason why I should not have written.”
“Be quiet, you can talk afterwards! What was the letter about? Why areyou blushing?”
The prince was silent. At last he spoke.
“I don’t understand your thoughts, Lizabetha Prokofievna; but I can seethat the fact of my having written is for some reason repugnant to you.You must admit that I have a perfect right to refuse to answer yourquestions; but, in order to show you that I am neither ashamed ofthe letter, nor sorry that I wrote it, and that I am not in the leastinclined to blush about it” (here the prince’s blushes redoubled), “Iwill repeat the substance of my letter, for I think I know it almost byheart.”
So saying, the prince repeated the letter almost word for word, as hehad written it.
“My goodness, what utter twaddle, and what may all this nonsense havesignified, pray? If it had any meaning at all!” said Mrs. Epanchin,cuttingly, after having listened with great attention.
“I really don’t absolutely know myself; I know my feeling was verysincere. I had moments at that time full of life and hope.”
“What sort of hope?”
“It is difficult to explain, but certainly not the hopes you have inyour mind. Hopes--well, in a word, hopes for the future, and a feelingof joy that _there_, at all events, I was not entirely a stranger and aforeigner. I felt an ecstasy in being in my native land once more; andone sunny morning I took up a pen and wrote her that letter, but why to_her_, I don’t quite know. Sometimes one longs to have a friend near, andI evidently felt the need of one then,” added the prince, and paused.
“Are you in love with her?”
“N-no! I wrote to her as to a sister; I signed myself her brother.”
“Oh yes, of course, on purpose! I quite understand.”
“It is very painful to me to answer these questions, LizabethaProkofievna.”
“I dare say it is; but that’s no affair of mine. Now then, assure metruly as before Heaven, are you lying to me or not?”
“No, I am not lying.”
/> “Are you telling the truth when you say you are not in love?”
“I believe it is the absolute truth.”
“‘I believe,’ indeed! Did that mischievous urchin give it to her?”
“I asked Nicolai Ardalionovitch...”
“The urchin! the urchin!” interrupted Lizabetha Prokofievna in an angryvoice. “I do not want to know if it were Nicolai Ardalionovitch! Theurchin!”
“Nicolai Ardalionovitch...”
“The urchin, I tell you!”
“No, it was not the urchin: it was Nicolai Ardalionovitch,” said theprince very firmly, but without raising his voice.
“Well, all right! All right, my dear! I shall put that down to youraccount.”
She was silent a moment to get breath, and to recover her composure.
“Well!--and what’s the meaning of the ‘poor knight,’ eh?”
“I don’t know in the least; I wasn’t present when the joke was made. It_is_ a joke. I suppose, and that’s all.”
“Well, that’s a comfort, at all events. You don’t suppose she could takeany interest in you, do you? Why, she called you an ‘idiot’ herself.”
“I think you might have spared me that,” murmured the princereproachfully, almost in a whisper.
“Don’t be angry; she is a wilful, mad, spoilt girl. If she likes aperson she will pitch into him, and chaff him. I used to be just suchanother. But for all that you needn’t flatter yourself, my boy; she isnot for you. I don’t believe it, and it is not to be. I tell you so atonce, so that you may take proper precautions. Now, I want to hear youswear that you are not married to that woman?”
“Lizabetha Prokofievna, what are you thinking of?” cried the prince,almost leaping to his feet in amazement.
“Why? You very nearly were, anyhow.”
“Yes--I nearly was,” whispered the prince, hanging his head.
“Well then, have you come here for _her?_ Are you in love with _her?_With _that_ creature?”
“I did not come to marry at all,” replied the prince.
“Is there anything you hold sacred?”
“There is.”
“Then swear by it that you did not come here to marry _her!_”
“I’ll swear it by whatever you please.”
“I believe you. You may kiss me; I breathe freely at last. But you mustknow, my dear friend, Aglaya does not love you, and she shall never beyour wife while I am out of my grave. So be warned in time. Do you hearme?”
“Yes, I hear.”
The prince flushed up so much that he could not look her in the face.
“I have waited for you with the greatest impatience (not that you wereworth it). Every night I have drenched my pillow with tears, not foryou, my friend, not for you, don’t flatter yourself! I have my owngrief, always the same, always the same. But I’ll tell you why I havebeen awaiting you so impatiently, because I believe that Providenceitself sent you to be a friend and a brother to me. I haven’t a friendin the world except Princess Bielokonski, and she is growing as stupidas a sheep from old age. Now then, tell me, yes or no? Do you know whyshe called out from her carriage the other night?”
“I give you my word of honour that I had nothing to do with the matterand know nothing about it.”
“Very well, I believe you. I have my own ideas about it. Up to yesterdaymorning I thought it was really Evgenie Pavlovitch who was to blame; nowI cannot help agreeing with the others. But why he was made such a foolof I cannot understand. However, he is not going to marry Aglaya, I cantell you that. He may be a very excellent fellow, but--so it shall be.I was not at all sure of accepting him before, but now I have quite madeup my mind that I won’t have him. ‘Put me in my coffin first and theninto my grave, and then you may marry my daughter to whomsoever youplease,’ so I said to the general this very morning. You see how I trustyou, my boy.”
“Yes, I see and understand.”
Mrs. Epanchin gazed keenly into the prince’s eyes. She was anxious tosee what impression the news as to Evgenie Pavlovitch had made upon him.
“Do you know anything about Gavrila Ardalionovitch?” she asked at last.
“Oh yes, I know a good deal.”
“Did you know he had communications with Aglaya?”
“No, I didn’t,” said the prince, trembling a little, and in greatagitation. “You say Gavrila Ardalionovitch has private communicationswith Aglaya?--Impossible!”
“Only quite lately. His sister has been working like a rat to clear theway for him all the winter.”
“I don’t believe it!” said the prince abruptly, after a short pause.“Had it been so I should have known long ago.”
“Oh, of course, yes; he would have come and wept out his secret on yourbosom. Oh, you simpleton--you simpleton! Anyone can deceive you and takeyou in like a--like a,--aren’t you ashamed to trust him? Can’t you seethat he humbugs you just as much as ever he pleases?”
“I know very well that he does deceive me occasionally, and he knowsthat I know it, but--” The prince did not finish his sentence.
“And that’s why you trust him, eh? So I should have supposed. Good Lord,was there ever such a man as you? Tfu! and are you aware, sir, that thisGania, or his sister Varia, have brought her into correspondence withNastasia Philipovna?”
“Brought whom?” cried Muishkin.
“Aglaya.”
“I don’t believe it! It’s impossible! What object could they have?” Hejumped up from his chair in his excitement.
“Nor do I believe it, in spite of the proofs. The girl is self-willedand fantastic, and insane! She’s wicked, wicked! I’ll repeat it fora thousand years that she’s wicked; they _all_ are, just now, all mydaughters, even that ‘wet hen’ Alexandra. And yet I don’t believe it.Because I don’t choose to believe it, perhaps; but I don’t. Why haven’tyou been?” she turned on the prince suddenly. “Why didn’t you come nearus all these three days, eh?”
The prince began to give his reasons, but she interrupted him again.
“Everybody takes you in and deceives you; you went to town yesterday. Idare swear you went down on your knees to that rogue, and begged him toaccept your ten thousand roubles!”
“I never thought of doing any such thing. I have not seen him, and he isnot a rogue, in my opinion. I have had a letter from him.”
“Show it me!”
The prince took a paper from his pocket-book, and handed it to LizabethaProkofievna. It ran as follows:
“SIR,
“In the eyes of the world I am sure that I have no cause for pride orself-esteem. I am much too insignificant for that. But what may be so toother men’s eyes is not so to yours. I am convinced that you are betterthan other people. Doktorenko disagrees with me, but I am content todiffer from him on this point. I will never accept one single copeckfrom you, but you have helped my mother, and I am bound to be gratefulto you for that, however weak it may seem. At any rate, I have changedmy opinion about you, and I think right to inform you of the fact; but Ialso suppose that there can be no further intercourse between us.
“ANTIP BURDOVSKY.
“P.S.--The two hundred roubles I owe you shall certainly be repaid intime.”
“How extremely stupid!” cried Mrs. Epanchin, giving back the letterabruptly. “It was not worth the trouble of reading. Why are yousmiling?”
“Confess that you are pleased to have read it.”
“What! Pleased with all that nonsense! Why, cannot you see that they areall infatuated with pride and vanity?”
“He has acknowledged himself to be in the wrong. Don’t you see that thegreater his vanity, the more difficult this admission must have been onhis part? Oh, what a little child you are, Lizabetha Prokofievna!”
“Are you tempting me to box your ears for you, or what?”
“Not at all. I am only proving that you are glad about the letter. Whyconceal your real feelings? You always like to do it.”
“Never come near my house again!” cried Mrs. Epanchin, pale
with rage.“Don’t let me see as much as a _shadow_ of you about the place! Do youhear?”
“Oh yes, and in three days you’ll come and invite me yourself. Aren’tyou ashamed now? These are your best feelings; you are only tormentingyourself.”
“I’ll die before I invite you! I shall forget your very name! I’veforgotten it already!”
She marched towards the door.
“But I’m forbidden your house as it is, without your added threats!” cried the prince after her.
“What? Who forbade you?”
She turned round so suddenly that one might have supposed a needle hadbeen stuck into her.
The prince hesitated. He perceived that he had said too much now.
“_Who_ forbade you?” cried Mrs. Epanchin once more.
“Aglaya Ivanovna told me--”
“When? Speak--quick!”
“She sent to say, yesterday morning, that I was never to dare to comenear the house again.”
Lizabetha Prokofievna stood like a stone.
“What did she send? Whom? Was it that boy? Was it a message?--quick!”
“I had a note,” said the prince.
“Where is it? Give it here, at once.”
The prince thought a moment. Then he pulled out of his waistcoat pocketan untidy slip of paper, on which was scrawled:
“PRINCE LEF NICOLAIEVITCH,--If you think fit, after all that has passed,to honour our house with a visit, I can assure you you will not find meamong the number of those who are in any way delighted to see you.
“AGLAYA EPANCHIN.”
Mrs. Epanchin reflected a moment. The next minute she flew at theprince, seized his hand, and dragged him after her to the door.
“Quick--come along!” she cried, breathless with agitation andimpatience. “Come along with me this moment!”
“But you declared I wasn’t--”
“Don’t be a simpleton. You behave just as though you weren’t a man atall. Come on! I shall see, now, with my own eyes. I shall see all.”
“Well, let me get my hat, at least.”
“Here’s your miserable hat. He couldn’t even choose a respectable shapefor his hat! Come on! She did that because I took your part and said youought to have come--little vixen!--else she would never have sent youthat silly note. It’s a most improper note, I call it; most improper forsuch an intelligent, well-brought-up girl to write. H’m! I dare say shewas annoyed that
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