tothe unfortunate young man, and would gladly do what he could to “savehim,” but that he did not think it would be seemly for him to interferein this matter. Lizabetha Prokofievna would neither hear nor see him.Prince S. and Evgenie Pavlovitch only shrugged their shoulders, andimplied that it was no business of theirs. However, Lebedeff had notlost heart, and went off to a clever lawyer,--a worthy and respectableman, whom he knew well. This old gentleman informed him that the thingwas perfectly feasible if he could get hold of competent witnesses asto Muishkin’s mental incapacity. Then, with the assistance of a fewinfluential persons, he would soon see the matter arranged.
Lebedeff immediately procured the services of an old doctor, and carriedthe latter away to Pavlofsk to see the prince, by way of viewing theground, as it were, and to give him (Lebedeff) counsel as to whetherthe thing was to be done or not. The visit was not to be official, butmerely friendly.
Muishkin remembered the doctor’s visit quite well. He remembered thatLebedeff had said that he looked ill, and had better see a doctor; andalthough the prince scouted the idea, Lebedeff had turned up almostimmediately with his old friend, explaining that they had just met atthe bedside of Hippolyte, who was very ill, and that the doctor hadsomething to tell the prince about the sick man.
The prince had, of course, at once received him, and had plunged intoa conversation about Hippolyte. He had given the doctor an account ofHippolyte’s attempted suicide; and had proceeded thereafter to talk ofhis own malady,--of Switzerland, of Schneider, and so on; and sodeeply was the old man interested by the prince’s conversation and hisdescription of Schneider’s system, that he sat on for two hours.
Muishkin gave him excellent cigars to smoke, and Lebedeff, for his part,regaled him with liqueurs, brought in by Vera, to whom the doctor--amarried man and the father of a family--addressed such compliments thatshe was filled with indignation. They parted friends, and, after leavingthe prince, the doctor said to Lebedeff: “If all such people were putunder restraint, there would be no one left for keepers.” Lebedeff then,in tragic tones, told of the approaching marriage, whereupon the othernodded his head and replied that, after all, marriages like that werenot so rare; that he had heard that the lady was very fascinating and ofextraordinary beauty, which was enough to explain the infatuation of awealthy man; that, further, thanks to the liberality of Totski and ofRogojin, she possessed--so he had heard--not only money, but pearls,diamonds, shawls, and furniture, and consequently she could not beconsidered a bad match. In brief, it seemed to the doctor that theprince’s choice, far from being a sign of foolishness, denoted, on thecontrary, a shrewd, calculating, and practical mind. Lebedeff had beenmuch struck by this point of view, and he terminated his confessionby assuring the prince that he was ready, if need be, to shed his verylife’s blood for him.
Hippolyte, too, was a source of some distraction to the prince at thistime; he would send for him at any and every hour of the day. Theylived,--Hippolyte and his mother and the children,--in a small house notfar off, and the little ones were happy, if only because they were ableto escape from the invalid into the garden. The prince had enough to doin keeping the peace between the irritable Hippolyte and his mother, andeventually the former became so malicious and sarcastic on the subjectof the approaching wedding, that Muishkin took offence at last, andrefused to continue his visits.
A couple of days later, however, Hippolyte’s mother came with tears inher eyes, and begged the prince to come back, “or _he_ would eat her upbodily.” She added that Hippolyte had a great secret to disclose. Ofcourse the prince went. There was no secret, however, unless we reckoncertain pantings and agitated glances around (probably all put on) asthe invalid begged his visitor to “beware of Rogojin.”
“He is the sort of man,” he continued, “who won’t give up his object,you know; he is not like you and me, prince--he belongs to quite adifferent order of beings. If he sets his heart on a thing he won’t beafraid of anything--” and so on.
Hippolyte was very ill, and looked as though he could not long survive.He was tearful at first, but grew more and more sarcastic and maliciousas the interview proceeded.
The prince questioned him in detail as to his hints about Rogojin. Hewas anxious to seize upon some facts which might confirm Hippolyte’svague warnings; but there were none; only Hippolyte’s own privateimpressions and feelings.
However, the invalid--to his immense satisfaction--ended by seriouslyalarming the prince.
At first Muishkin had not cared to make any reply to his sundryquestions, and only smiled in response to Hippolyte’s advice to “run forhis life--abroad, if necessary. There are Russian priests everywhere,and one can get married all over the world.”
But it was Hippolyte’s last idea which upset him.
“What I am really alarmed about, though,” he said, “is Aglaya Ivanovna.Rogojin knows how you love her. Love for love. You took NastasiaPhilipovna from him. He will murder Aglaya Ivanovna; for though she isnot yours, of course, now, still such an act would pain you,--wouldn’tit?”
He had attained his end. The prince left the house beside himself withterror.
These warnings about Rogojin were expressed on the day before thewedding. That evening the prince saw Nastasia Philipovna for the lasttime before they were to meet at the altar; but Nastasia was not in aposition to give him any comfort or consolation. On the contrary, sheonly added to his mental perturbation as the evening went on. Up to thistime she had invariably done her best to cheer him--she was afraid ofhis looking melancholy; she would try singing to him, and telling himevery sort of funny story or reminiscence that she could recall. Theprince nearly always pretended to be amused, whether he were soactually or no; but often enough he laughed sincerely, delighted by thebrilliancy of her wit when she was carried away by her narrative, as shevery often was. Nastasia would be wild with joy to see the impressionshe had made, and to hear his laugh of real amusement; and she wouldremain the whole evening in a state of pride and happiness. But thisevening her melancholy and thoughtfulness grew with every hour.
The prince had told Evgenie Pavlovitch with perfect sincerity that heloved Nastasia Philipovna with all his soul. In his love for her therewas the sort of tenderness one feels for a sick, unhappy child whichcannot be left alone. He never spoke of his feelings for Nastasiato anyone, not even to herself. When they were together they neverdiscussed their “feelings,” and there was nothing in their cheerful,animated conversation which an outsider could not have heard. DariaAlexeyevna, with whom Nastasia was staying, told afterwards how she hadbeen filled with joy and delight only to look at them, all this time.
Thanks to the manner in which he regarded Nastasia’s mental and moralcondition, the prince was to some extent freed from other perplexities.She was now quite different from the woman he had known three monthsbefore. He was not astonished, for instance, to see her now so impatientto marry him--she who formerly had wept with rage and hurled curses andreproaches at him if he mentioned marriage! “It shows that she no longerfears, as she did then, that she would make me unhappy by marrying me,” he thought. And he felt sure that so sudden a change could not be anatural one. This rapid growth of self-confidence could not be due onlyto her hatred for Aglaya. To suppose that would be to suspect the depthof her feelings. Nor could it arise from dread of the fate that awaitedher if she married Rogojin. These causes, indeed, as well as others,might have played a part in it, but the true reason, Muishkin decided,was the one he had long suspected--that the poor sick soul had come tothe end of its forces. Yet this was an explanation that did not procurehim any peace of mind. At times he seemed to be making violent effortsto think of nothing, and one would have said that he looked on hismarriage as an unimportant formality, and on his future happiness as athing not worth considering. As to conversations such as the one heldwith Evgenie Pavlovitch, he avoided them as far as possible, feelingthat there were certain objections to which he could make no answer.
The prince had observed that Nastasia knew well enou
gh what Aglaya wasto him. He never spoke of it, but he had seen her face when she hadcaught him starting off for the Epanchins’ house on several occasions.When the Epanchins left Pavlofsk, she had beamed with radiance andhappiness. Unsuspicious and unobservant as he was, he had feared at thattime that Nastasia might have some scheme in her mind for a scene orscandal which would drive Aglaya out of Pavlofsk. She had encouragedthe rumours and excitement among the inhabitants of the place as to hermarriage with the prince, in order to annoy her rival; and, findingit difficult to meet the Epanchins anywhere, she had, on one occasion,taken him for a drive past their house. He did not observe what washappening until they were almost passing the windows, when it was toolate to do anything. He said nothing, but for two days afterwards he wasill.
Nastasia did not try that particular experiment again. A few days beforethat fixed for the wedding, she grew grave and thoughtful. She alwaysended by getting the better of her melancholy, and becoming merry andcheerful again, but not quite so