then I wish to go abroad.”
After a few more expostulations, the conversation drifted into otherchannels, but the prince, who had been an attentive listener, thoughtall this excitement about so small a matter very curious. “There must bemore in it than appears,” he said to himself.
“I see the ‘poor knight’ has come on the scene again,” said EvgeniePavlovitch, stepping to Aglaya’s side.
To the amazement of the prince, who overheard the remark, Aglaya lookedhaughtily and inquiringly at the questioner, as though she would givehim to know, once for all, that there could be no talk between themabout the ‘poor knight,’ and that she did not understand his question.
“But not now! It is too late to send to town for a Pushkin now. It ismuch too late, I say!” Colia was exclaiming in a loud voice. “I havetold you so at least a hundred times.”
“Yes, it is really much too late to send to town now,” said EvgeniePavlovitch, who had escaped from Aglaya as rapidly as possible. “I amsure the shops are shut in Petersburg; it is past eight o’clock,” headded, looking at his watch.
“We have done without him so far,” interrupted Adelaida in her turn.“Surely we can wait until to-morrow.”
“Besides,” said Colia, “it is quite unusual, almost improper, forpeople in our position to take any interest in literature. Ask EvgeniePavlovitch if I am not right. It is much more fashionable to drive awaggonette with red wheels.”
“You got that from some magazine, Colia,” remarked Adelaida.
“He gets most of his conversation in that way,” laughed EvgeniePavlovitch. “He borrows whole phrases from the reviews. I have longhad the pleasure of knowing both Nicholai Ardalionovitch and hisconversational methods, but this time he was not repeating something hehad read; he was alluding, no doubt, to my yellow waggonette, which has,or had, red wheels. But I have exchanged it, so you are rather behindthe times, Colia.”
The prince had been listening attentively to Radomski’s words, andthought his manner very pleasant. When Colia chaffed him about hiswaggonette he had replied with perfect equality and in a friendlyfashion. This pleased Muishkin.
At this moment Vera came up to Lizabetha Prokofievna, carrying severallarge and beautifully bound books, apparently quite new.
“What is it?” demanded the lady.
“This is Pushkin,” replied the girl. “Papa told me to offer it to you.”
“What? Impossible!” exclaimed Mrs. Epanchin.
“Not as a present, not as a present! I should not have taken theliberty,” said Lebedeff, appearing suddenly from behind his daughter.“It is our own Pushkin, our family copy, Annenkoff’s edition; it couldnot be bought now. I beg to suggest, with great respect, that yourexcellency should buy it, and thus quench the noble literary thirstwhich is consuming you at this moment,” he concluded grandiloquently.
“Oh! if you will sell it, very good--and thank you. You shall not be aloser! But for goodness’ sake, don’t twist about like that, sir! I haveheard of you; they tell me you are a very learned person. We must have atalk one of these days. You will bring me the books yourself?”
“With the greatest respect... and... and veneration,” replied Lebedeff,making extraordinary grimaces.
“Well, bring them, with or without respect, provided always you do notdrop them on the way; but on the condition,” went on the lady, lookingfull at him, “that you do not cross my threshold. I do not intend toreceive you today. You may send your daughter Vera at once, if you like.I am much pleased with her.”
“Why don’t you tell him about them?” said Vera impatiently to herfather. “They will come in, whether you announce them or not, and theyare beginning to make a row. Lef Nicolaievitch,”--she addressed herselfto the prince--“four men are here asking for you. They have waited sometime, and are beginning to make a fuss, and papa will not bring themin.”
“Who are these people?” said the prince.
“They say that they have come on business, and they are the kind of men,who, if you do not see them here, will follow you about the street.It would be better to receive them, and then you will get rid of them.Gavrila Ardalionovitch and Ptitsin are both there, trying to make themhear reason.”
“Pavlicheff’s son! It is not worth while!” cried Lebedeff. “There isno necessity to see them, and it would be most unpleasant for yourexcellency. They do not deserve...”
“What? Pavlicheff’s son!” cried the prince, much perturbed. “I know...I know--but I entrusted this matter to Gavrila Ardalionovitch. He toldme...”
At that moment Gania, accompanied by Ptitsin, came out to the terrace.From an adjoining room came a noise of angry voices, and GeneralIvolgin, in loud tones, seemed to be trying to shout them down. Coliarushed off at once to investigate the cause of the uproar.
“This is most interesting!” observed Evgenie Pavlovitch.
“I expect he knows all about it!” thought the prince.
“What, the son of Pavlicheff? And who may this son of Pavlicheff be?” asked General Epanchin with surprise; and looking curiously around him,he discovered that he alone had no clue to the mystery. Expectation andsuspense were on every face, with the exception of that of the prince,who stood gravely wondering how an affair so entirely personal couldhave awakened such lively and widespread interest in so short a time.
Aglaya went up to him with a peculiarly serious look.
“It will be well,” she said, “if you put an end to this affair yourself_at once_: but you must allow us to be your witnesses. They want to throwmud at you, prince, and you must be triumphantly vindicated. I give youjoy beforehand!”
“And I also wish for justice to be done, once for all,” cried MadameEpanchin, “about this impudent claim. Deal with them promptly, prince,and don’t spare them! I am sick of hearing about the affair, and many aquarrel I have had in your cause. But I confess I am anxious to see whathappens, so do make them come out here, and we will remain. You haveheard people talking about it, no doubt?” she added, turning to PrinceS.
“Of course,” said he. “I have heard it spoken about at your house, and Iam anxious to see these young men!”
“They are Nihilists, are they not?”
“No, they are not Nihilists,” explained Lebedeff, who seemed muchexcited. “This is another lot--a special group. According to my nephewthey are more advanced even than the Nihilists. You are quite wrong,excellency, if you think that your presence will intimidate them;nothing intimidates them. Educated men, learned men even, are to befound among Nihilists; these go further, in that they are men of action.The movement is, properly speaking, a derivative from Nihilism--thoughthey are only known indirectly, and by hearsay, for they never advertisetheir doings in the papers. They go straight to the point. For them, itis not a question of showing that Pushkin is stupid, or that Russia mustbe torn in pieces. No; but if they have a great desire for anything,they believe they have a right to get it even at the cost of the lives,say, of eight persons. They are checked by no obstacles. In fact,prince, I should not advise you...”
But Muishkin had risen, and was on his way to open the door for hisvisitors.
“You are slandering them, Lebedeff,” said he, smiling.
“You are always thinking about your nephew’s conduct. Don’t believehim, Lizabetha Prokofievna. I can assure you Gorsky and Daniloff areexceptions--and that these are only... mistaken. However, I do not careabout receiving them here, in public. Excuse me, Lizabetha Prokofievna.They are coming, and you can see them, and then I will take them away.Please come in, gentlemen!”
Another thought tormented him: He wondered was this an arrangedbusiness--arranged to happen when he had guests in his house, and inanticipation of his humiliation rather than of his triumph? But hereproached himself bitterly for such a thought, and felt as if he shoulddie of shame if it were discovered. When his new visitors appeared, hewas quite ready to believe himself infinitely less to be respected thanany of them.
Four persons entered, led by General Ivolgin, in a sta
te of greatexcitement, and talking eloquently.
“He is for me, undoubtedly!” thought the prince, with a smile. Coliaalso had joined the party, and was talking with animation to Hippolyte,who listened with a jeering smile on his lips.
The prince begged the visitors to sit down. They were all so young thatit made the proceedings seem even more extraordinary. Ivan Fedorovitch,who really understood nothing of what was going on, felt indignant atthe sight of these youths, and would have interfered in some way had itnot been for the extreme interest shown by his wife in the affair.He therefore remained, partly through curiosity, partly throughgood-nature, hoping that his presence might be of some use. But the bowwith which General Ivolgin greeted him irritated him anew; he frowned,and decided to be absolutely silent.
As to the rest, one was a man of thirty, the retired officer, now aboxer, who had been with Rogojin, and in his happier days had givenfifteen roubles at a time to beggars. Evidently he had joined the othersas a comrade to give them moral, and if necessary material, support. Theman who had been spoken of as “Pavlicheff’s son,” although he gave thename of
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