for the time being, don’t you know?” he said, mostconfidentially and mysteriously.
The prince jumped up so furiously that Lebedeff ran towards the door;having gained which strategic position, however, he stopped and lookedback to see if he might hope for pardon.
“Oh, Lebedeff, Lebedeff! Can a man really sink to such depths ofmeanness?” said the prince, sadly.
Lebedeff’s face brightened.
“Oh, I’m a mean wretch--a mean wretch!” he said, approaching the princeonce more, and beating his breast, with tears in his eyes.
“It’s abominable dishonesty, you know!”
“Dishonesty--it is, it is! That’s the very word!”
“What in the world induces you to act so? You are nothing but a spy.Why did you write anonymously to worry so noble and generous a lady? Whyshould not Aglaya Ivanovna write a note to whomever she pleases? Whatdid you mean to complain of today? What did you expect to get by it?What made you go at all?”
“Pure amiable curiosity,--I assure you--desire to do a service. That’sall. Now I’m entirely yours again, your slave; hang me if you like!”
“Did you go before Lizabetha Prokofievna in your present condition?” inquired the prince.
“No--oh no, fresher--more the correct card. I only became this likeafter the humiliation I suffered there.”
“Well--that’ll do; now leave me.”
This injunction had to be repeated several times before the man could bepersuaded to move. Even then he turned back at the door, came as far asthe middle of the room, and there went through his mysterious motionsdesigned to convey the suggestion that the prince should open theletter. He did not dare put his suggestion into words again.
After this performance, he smiled sweetly and left the room on tiptoe.
All this had been very painful to listen to. One fact stood out certainand clear, and that was that poor Aglaya must be in a state of greatdistress and indecision and mental torment (“from jealousy,” the princewhispered to himself). Undoubtedly in this inexperienced, but hot andproud little head, there were all sorts of plans forming, wild andimpossible plans, maybe; and the idea of this so frightened the princethat he could not make up his mind what to do. Something must be done,that was clear.
He looked at the address on the letter once more. Oh, he was not in theleast degree alarmed about Aglaya writing such a letter; he could trusther. What he did not like about it was that he could not trust Gania.
However, he made up his mind that he would himself take the note anddeliver it. Indeed, he went so far as to leave the house and walk up theroad, but changed his mind when he had nearly reached Ptitsin’s door.However, he there luckily met Colia, and commissioned him to deliver theletter to his brother as if direct from Aglaya. Colia asked no questionsbut simply delivered it, and Gania consequently had no suspicion that ithad passed through so many hands.
Arrived home again, the prince sent for Vera Lebedeff and told her asmuch as was necessary, in order to relieve her mind, for she had been ina dreadful state of anxiety since she had missed the letter. She heardwith horror that her father had taken it. Muishkin learned from her thatshe had on several occasions performed secret missions both for Aglayaand for Rogojin, without, however, having had the slightest idea that inso doing she might injure the prince in any way.
The latter, with one thing and another, was now so disturbed andconfused, that when, a couple of hours or so later, a message came fromColia that the general was ill, he could hardly take the news in.
However, when he did master the fact, it acted upon him as a tonicby completely distracting his attention. He went at once to NinaAlexandrovna’s, whither the general had been carried, and stayed thereuntil the evening. He could do no good, but there are people whomto have near one is a blessing at such times. Colia was in an almosthysterical state; he cried continuously, but was running about all day,all the same; fetching doctors, of whom he collected three; going to thechemist’s, and so on.
The general was brought round to some extent, but the doctorsdeclared that he could not be said to be out of danger. Varia and NinaAlexandrovna never left the sick man’s bedside; Gania was excited anddistressed, but would not go upstairs, and seemed afraid to look at thepatient. He wrung his hands when the prince spoke to him, and said that“such a misfortune at such a moment” was terrible.
The prince thought he knew what Gania meant by “such a moment.”
Hippolyte was not in the house. Lebedeff turned up late in theafternoon; he had been asleep ever since his interview with the princein the morning. He was quite sober now, and cried with real sincerityover the sick general--mourning for him as though he were his ownbrother. He blamed himself aloud, but did not explain why. He repeatedover and over again to Nina Alexandrovna that he alone was to blame--noone else--but that he had acted out of “pure amiable curiosity,” andthat “the deceased,” as he insisted upon calling the still livinggeneral, had been the greatest of geniuses.
He laid much stress on the genius of the sufferer, as if this idea mustbe one of immense solace in the present crisis.
Nina Alexandrovna--seeing his sincerity of feeling--said at last,and without the faintest suspicion of reproach in her voice: “Come,come--don’t cry! God will forgive you!”
Lebedeff was so impressed by these words, and the tone in whichthey were spoken, that he could not leave Nina Alexandrovna all theevening--in fact, for several days. Till the general’s death, indeed, hespent almost all his time at his side.
Twice during the day a messenger came to Nina Alexandrovna from theEpanchins to inquire after the invalid.
When--late in the evening--the prince made his appearance in LizabethaProkofievna’s drawing-room, he found it full of guests. Mrs. Epanchinquestioned him very fully about the general as soon as he appeared; andwhen old Princess Bielokonski wished to know “who this general was, andwho was Nina Alexandrovna,” she proceeded to explain in a manner whichpleased the prince very much.
He himself, when relating the circumstances of the general’s illness toLizabetha Prokofievna, “spoke beautifully,” as Aglaya’s sisters declaredafterwards--“modestly, quietly, without gestures or too many words, andwith great dignity.” He had entered the room with propriety and grace,and he was perfectly dressed; he not only did not “fall down on theslippery floor,” as he had expressed it, but evidently made a veryfavourable impression upon the assembled guests.
As for his own impression on entering the room and taking his seat,he instantly remarked that the company was not in the least suchas Aglaya’s words had led him to fear, and as he had dreamed of--innightmare form--all night.
This was the first time in his life that he had seen a little corner ofwhat was generally known by the terrible name of “society.” He had longthirsted, for reasons of his own, to penetrate the mysteries of themagic circle, and, therefore, this assemblage was of the greatestpossible interest to him.
His first impression was one of fascination. Somehow or other he feltthat all these people must have been born on purpose to be together! Itseemed to him that the Epanchins were not having a party at all; thatthese people must have been here always, and that he himself was oneof them--returned among them after a long absence, but one of them,naturally and indisputably.
It never struck him that all this refined simplicity and nobility andwit and personal dignity might possibly be no more than an exquisiteartistic polish. The majority of the guests--who were somewhatempty-headed, after all, in spite of their aristocratic bearing--neverguessed, in their self-satisfied composure, that much of theirsuperiority was mere veneer, which indeed they had adopted unconsciouslyand by inheritance.
The prince would never so much as suspect such a thing in the delight ofhis first impression.
He saw, for instance, that one important dignitary, old enough to be hisgrandfather, broke off his own conversation in order to listen to _him_--ayoung and inexperienced man; and not only listened, but seemed toattach value to his opinion, and was kind and
amiable, and yet theywere strangers and had never seen each other before. Perhaps what mostappealed to the prince’s impressionability was the refinement of the oldman’s courtesy towards him. Perhaps the soil of his susceptible naturewas really predisposed to receive a pleasant impression.
Meanwhile all these people--though friends of the family and of eachother to a certain extent--were very far from being such intimatefriends of the family and of each other as the prince concluded. Therewere some present who never would think of considering the Epanchinstheir equals. There were even some who hated one another cordially. Forinstance, old Princess Bielokonski had all her life despised the wifeof the “dignitary,” while the latter was very far from loving LizabethaProkofievna. The dignitary himself had been General Epanchin’s protectorfrom his youth up; and the general considered him so majestic apersonage that he would have felt a hearty contempt for himself ifhe had even for one moment allowed himself to pose as the great man’sequal, or to think of him--in his fear and reverence--as anything lessthan an Olympic God! There were others present who had not met