night now. Why didyou say anything about it?”
Aglaya looked blackly at him.
“Do you know what, I had better not come at all tomorrow! I’ll pleadsick-list and stay away,” said the prince, with decision.
Aglaya stamped her foot, and grew quite pale with anger.
“Oh, my goodness! Just listen to that! ‘Better not come,’ when the partyis on purpose for him! Good Lord! What a delightful thing it is to haveto do with such a--such a stupid as you are!”
“Well, I’ll come, I’ll come,” interrupted the prince, hastily, “and I’llgive you my word of honour that I will sit the whole evening and not saya word.”
“I believe that’s the best thing you can do. You said you’d ‘pleadsick-list’ just now; where in the world do you get hold of suchexpressions? Why do you talk to me like this? Are you trying to irritateme, or what?”
“Forgive me, it’s a schoolboy expression. I won’t do it again. I knowquite well, I see it, that you are anxious on my account (now, don’t beangry), and it makes me very happy to see it. You wouldn’t believehow frightened I am of misbehaving somehow, and how glad I am of yourinstructions. But all this panic is simply nonsense, you know, Aglaya! Igive you my word it is; I am so pleased that you are such a child, sucha dear good child. How _charming_ you can be if you like, Aglaya.”
Aglaya wanted to be angry, of course, but suddenly some quite unexpectedfeeling seized upon her heart, all in a moment.
“And you won’t reproach me for all these rude words of mine--someday--afterwards?” she asked, of a sudden.
“What an idea! Of course not. And what are you blushing for again? Andthere comes that frown once more! You’ve taken to looking too gloomysometimes, Aglaya, much more than you used to. I know why it is.”
“Be quiet, do be quiet!”
“No, no, I had much better speak out. I have long wished to say it, and_have_ said it, but that’s not enough, for you didn’t believe me. Betweenus two there stands a being who--”
“Be quiet, be quiet, be quiet, be quiet!” Aglaya struck in, suddenly,seizing his hand in hers, and gazing at him almost in terror.
At this moment she was called by someone. She broke loose from him withan air of relief and ran away.
The prince was in a fever all night. It was strange, but he had sufferedfrom fever for several nights in succession. On this particular night,while in semi-delirium, he had an idea: what if on the morrow he wereto have a fit before everybody? The thought seemed to freeze his bloodwithin him. All night he fancied himself in some extraordinary societyof strange persons. The worst of it was that he was talking nonsense;he knew that he ought not to speak at all, and yet he talked the wholetime; he seemed to be trying to persuade them all to something. Evgenieand Hippolyte were among the guests, and appeared to be great friends.
He awoke towards nine o’clock with a headache, full of confused ideasand strange impressions. For some reason or other he felt most anxiousto see Rogojin, to see and talk to him, but what he wished to say hecould not tell. Next, he determined to go and see Hippolyte. His mindwas in a confused state, so much so that the incidents of the morningseemed to be imperfectly realized, though acutely felt.
One of these incidents was a visit from Lebedeff. Lebedeff came ratherearly--before ten--but he was tipsy already. Though the prince was notin an observant condition, yet he could not avoid seeing that for atleast three days--ever since General Ivolgin had left the house Lebedeffhad been behaving very badly. He looked untidy and dirty at all timesof the day, and it was said that he had begun to rage about in his ownhouse, and that his temper was very bad. As soon as he arrived thismorning, he began to hold forth, beating his breast and apparentlyblaming himself for something.
“I’ve--I’ve had a reward for my meanness--I’ve had a slap in the face,” he concluded, tragically.
“A slap in the face? From whom? And so early in the morning?”
“Early?” said Lebedeff, sarcastically. “Time counts for nothing, even inphysical chastisement; but my slap in the face was not physical, it wasmoral.”
He suddenly took a seat, very unceremoniously, and began his story. Itwas very disconnected; the prince frowned, and wished he could get away;but suddenly a few words struck him. He sat stiff with wonder--Lebedeffsaid some extraordinary things.
In the first place he began about some letter; the name of AglayaIvanovna came in. Then suddenly he broke off and began to accuse theprince of something; he was apparently offended with him. At first hedeclared that the prince had trusted him with his confidences as to “acertain person” (Nastasia Philipovna), but that of late his friendshiphad been thrust back into his bosom, and his innocent question as to“approaching family changes” had been curtly put aside, which Lebedeffdeclared, with tipsy tears, he could not bear; especially as he knew somuch already both from Rogojin and Nastasia Philipovna and her friend,and from Varvara Ardalionovna, and even from Aglaya Ivanovna, throughhis daughter Vera. “And who told Lizabetha Prokofievna something insecret, by letter? Who told her all about the movements of a certainperson called Nastasia Philipovna? Who was the anonymous person, eh?Tell me!”
“Surely not you?” cried the prince.
“Just so,” said Lebedeff, with dignity; “and only this very morning Ihave sent up a letter to the noble lady, stating that I have a matter ofgreat importance to communicate. She received the letter; I know she gotit; and she received _me_, too.”
“Have you just seen Lizabetha Prokofievna?” asked the prince, scarcelybelieving his ears.
“Yes, I saw her, and got the said slap in the face as mentioned. Shechucked the letter back to me unopened, and kicked me out of the house,morally, not physically, although not far off it.”
“What letter do you mean she returned unopened?”
“What! didn’t I tell you? Ha, ha, ha! I thought I had. Why, I received aletter, you know, to be handed over--”
“From whom? To whom?”
But it was difficult, if not impossible, to extract anything fromLebedeff. All the prince could gather was, that the letter had beenreceived very early, and had a request written on the outside that itmight be sent on to the address given.
“Just as before, sir, just as before! To a certain person, and froma certain hand. The individual’s name who wrote the letter is to berepresented by the letter A.--”
“What? Impossible! To Nastasia Philipovna? Nonsense!” cried the prince.
“It was, I assure you, and if not to her then to Rogojin, which isthe same thing. Mr. Hippolyte has had letters, too, and all from theindividual whose name begins with an A.,” smirked Lebedeff, with ahideous grin.
As he kept jumping from subject to subject, and forgetting what he hadbegun to talk about, the prince said nothing, but waited, to give himtime.
It was all very vague. Who had taken the letters, if letters there were?Probably Vera--and how could Lebedeff have got them? In all probability,he had managed to steal the present letter from Vera, and had himselfgone over to Lizabetha Prokofievna with some idea in his head. So theprince concluded at last.
“You are mad!” he cried, indignantly.
“Not quite, esteemed prince,” replied Lebedeff, with some acerbity. “Iconfess I thought of doing you the service of handing the letter over toyourself, but I decided that it would pay me better to deliver it up tothe noble lady aforesaid, as I had informed her of everything hithertoby anonymous letters; so when I sent her up a note from myself, withthe letter, you know, in order to fix a meeting for eight o’clock thismorning, I signed it ‘your secret correspondent.’ They let me in atonce--very quickly--by the back door, and the noble lady received me.”
“Well? Go on.”
“Oh, well, when I saw her she almost punched my head, as I say; in factso nearly that one might almost say she did punch my head. She threwthe letter in my face; she seemed to reflect first, as if she wouldhave liked to keep it, but thought better of it and threw it in my faceinstead. ‘If anybody can have been such a foo
l as to trust a man likeyou to deliver the letter,’ says she, ‘take it and deliver it!’ Hey! shewas grandly indignant. A fierce, fiery lady that, sir!”
“Where’s the letter now?”
“Oh, I’ve still got it, here!”
And he handed the prince the very letter from Aglaya to Gania, which thelatter showed with so much triumph to his sister at a later hour.
“This letter cannot be allowed to remain in your hands.”
“It’s for you--for you! I’ve brought it you on purpose!” cried Lebedeff,excitedly. “Why, I’m yours again now, heart and hand, your slave; therewas but a momentary pause in the flow of my love and esteem for you. Meaculpa, mea culpa! as the Pope of Rome says.”
“This letter should be sent on at once,” said the prince, disturbed.“I’ll hand it over myself.”
“Wouldn’t it be better, esteemed prince, wouldn’t it bebetter--to--don’t you know--”
Lebedeff made a strange and very expressive grimace; he twisted about inhis chair, and did something, apparently symbolical, with his hands.
“What do you mean?” said the prince.
“Why, open it,