The Idiot

by Fyodor Dostoyevsky

in Aglaya’s mind. She was only waiting for the hour thatwould bring the matter to a final climax; and every hint, every carelessprobing of her wound, did but further lacerate her heart.

  VIII.

  This same morning dawned for the prince pregnant with no less painfulpresentiments,--which fact his physical state was, of course, quiteenough to account for; but he was so indefinably melancholy,--hissadness could not attach itself to anything in particular, and thistormented him more than anything else. Of course certain facts stoodbefore him, clear and painful, but his sadness went beyond all that hecould remember or imagine; he realized that he was powerless to consolehimself unaided. Little by little he began to develop the expectationthat this day something important, something decisive, was to happen tohim.

  His attack of yesterday had been a slight one. Excepting some littleheaviness in the head and pain in the limbs, he did not feel anyparticular effects. His brain worked all right, though his soul washeavy within him.

  He rose late, and immediately upon waking remembered all about theprevious evening; he also remembered, though not quite so clearly, how,half an hour after his fit, he had been carried home.

  He soon heard that a messenger from the Epanchins’ had already been toinquire after him. At half-past eleven another arrived; and this pleasedhim.

  Vera Lebedeff was one of the first to come to see him and offer herservices. No sooner did she catch sight of him than she burst intotears; but when he tried to soothe her she began to laugh. He was quitestruck by the girl’s deep sympathy for him; he seized her hand andkissed it. Vera flushed crimson.

  “Oh, don’t, don’t!” she exclaimed in alarm, snatching her hand away. Shewent hastily out of the room in a state of strange confusion.

  Lebedeff also came to see the prince, in a great hurry to get away tothe “deceased,” as he called General Ivolgin, who was alive still, butvery ill. Colia also turned up, and begged the prince for pity’s sake totell him all he knew about his father which had been concealed from himtill now. He said he had found out nearly everything since yesterday;the poor boy was in a state of deep affliction. With all the sympathywhich he could bring into play, the prince told Colia the whole storywithout reserve, detailing the facts as clearly as he could. Thetale struck Colia like a thunderbolt. He could not speak. He listenedsilently, and cried softly to himself the while. The prince perceivedthat this was an impression which would last for the whole of the boy’slife. He made haste to explain his view of the matter, and pointed outthat the old man’s approaching death was probably brought on by horrorat the thought of his action; and that it was not everyone who wascapable of such a feeling.

  Colia’s eyes flashed as he listened.

  “Gania and Varia and Ptitsin are a worthless lot! I shall not quarrelwith them; but from this moment our feet shall not travel the same road.Oh, prince, I have felt much that is quite new to me since yesterday!It is a lesson for me. I shall now consider my mother as entirely myresponsibility; though she may be safe enough with Varia. Still, meatand drink is not everything.”

  He jumped up and hurried off, remembering suddenly that he was wantedat his father’s bedside; but before he went out of the room he inquiredhastily after the prince’s health, and receiving the latter’s reply,added:

  “Isn’t there something else, prince? I heard yesterday, but I haveno right to talk about this... If you ever want a true friend andservant--neither you nor I are so very happy, are we?--come to me. Iwon’t ask you questions, though.”

  He ran off and left the prince more dejected than ever.

  Everyone seemed to be speaking prophetically, hinting at some misfortuneor sorrow to come; they had all looked at him as though they knewsomething which he did not know. Lebedeff had asked questions, Colia hadhinted, and Vera had shed tears. What was it?

  At last, with a sigh of annoyance, he said to himself that it wasnothing but his own cursed sickly suspicion. His face lighted up withjoy when, at about two o’clock, he espied the Epanchins coming along topay him a short visit, “just for a minute.” They really had only comefor a minute.

  Lizabetha Prokofievna had announced, directly after lunch, that theywould all take a walk together. The information was given in the form ofa command, without explanation, drily and abruptly. All had issued forthin obedience to the mandate; that is, the girls, mamma, and Prince S.Lizabetha Prokofievna went off in a direction exactly contrary to theusual one, and all understood very well what she was driving at, butheld their peace, fearing to irritate the good lady. She, as thoughanxious to avoid any conversation, walked ahead, silent and alone. Atlast Adelaida remarked that it was no use racing along at such a pace,and that she could not keep up with her mother.

  “Look here,” said Lizabetha Prokofievna, turning round suddenly; “we arepassing his house. Whatever Aglaya may think, and in spite of anythingthat may happen, he is not a stranger to us; besides which, he is illand in misfortune. I, for one, shall call in and see him. Let anyonefollow me who cares to.”

  Of course every one of them followed her.

  The prince hastened to apologize, very properly, for yesterday’s mishapwith the vase, and for the scene generally.

  “Oh, that’s nothing,” replied Lizabetha; “I’m not sorry for the vase,I’m sorry for you. H’m! so you can see that there was a ‘scene,’ canyou? Well, it doesn’t matter much, for everyone must realize now that itis impossible to be hard on you. Well, _au revoir_. I advise you to havea walk, and then go to sleep again if you can. Come in as usual, ifyou feel inclined; and be assured, once for all, whatever happens, andwhatever may have happened, you shall always remain the friend of thefamily--mine, at all events. I can answer for myself.”

  In response to this challenge all the others chimed in and re-echoedmamma’s sentiments.

  And so they took their departure; but in this hasty and kindly designedvisit there was hidden a fund of cruelty which Lizabetha Prokofievnanever dreamed of. In the words “as usual,” and again in her added,“mine, at all events,” there seemed an ominous knell of some evil tocome.

  The prince began to think of Aglaya. She had certainly given him awonderful smile, both at coming and again at leave-taking, but had notsaid a word, not even when the others all professed their friendship forhim. She had looked very intently at him, but that was all. Her face hadbeen paler than usual; she looked as though she had slept badly.

  The prince made up his mind that he would make a point of going there“as usual,” tonight, and looked feverishly at his watch.

  Vera came in three minutes after the Epanchins had left. “LefNicolaievitch,” she said, “Aglaya Ivanovna has just given me a messagefor you.”

  The prince trembled.

  “Is it a note?”

  “No, a verbal message; she had hardly time even for that. She begs youearnestly not to go out of the house for a single moment all to-day,until seven o’clock in the evening. It may have been nine; I didn’tquite hear.”

  “But--but, why is this? What does it mean?”

  “I don’t know at all; but she said I was to tell you particularly.”

  “Did she say that?”

  “Not those very words. She only just had time to whisper as she went by;but by the way she looked at me I knew it was important. She looked atme in a way that made my heart stop beating.”

  The prince asked a few more questions, and though he learned nothingelse, he became more and more agitated.

  Left alone, he lay down on the sofa, and began to think.

  “Perhaps,” he thought, “someone is to be with them until nine tonightand she is afraid that I may come and make a fool of myself again, inpublic.” So he spent his time longing for the evening and looking at hiswatch. But the clearing-up of the mystery came long before the evening,and came in the form of a new and agonizing riddle.

  Half an hour after the Epanchins had gone, Hippolyte arrived, so tiredthat, almost unconscious, he sank into a chair, and broke into such afit of coughing that he could not stop. He cou
ghed till the blood came.His eyes glittered, and two red spots on his cheeks grew brighter andbrighter. The prince murmured something to him, but Hippolyte onlysigned that he must be left alone for a while, and sat silent. At lasthe came to himself.

  “I am off,” he said, hoarsely, and with difficulty.

  “Shall I see you home?” asked the prince, rising from his seat, butsuddenly stopping short as he remembered Aglaya’s prohibition againstleaving the house. Hippolyte laughed.

  “I don’t mean that I am going to leave your house,” he continued,still gasping and coughing. “On the contrary, I thought it absolutelynecessary to come and see you; otherwise I should not have troubled you.I am off there, you know, and this time I believe, seriously, that I amoff! It’s all over. I did not come here for sympathy, believe me. I laydown this morning at ten o’clock with the intention of not rising againbefore that time; but I thought it over and rose just once more inorder to come here; from which you may deduce that I had some reason forwishing to come.”

  “It grieves me to see you so, Hippolyte. Why didn’t you send me amessage? I would