The Idiot

by Fyodor Dostoevsky

  “Good heavens, even without any offense you naturally want to know; you’re her mother. Aglaya Ivanovna and I met today by the green bench at exactly seven o’clock in the morning following her invitation yesterday. In her note yesterday evening, she informed me that she had to see me and speak to me about an important matter. We met and spent a whole hour discussing things of concern to Aglaya Ivanovna alone, and that is all.”

  “Of course it is all, my dear man, and without any doubt it is all,” Lizaveta Prokofyevna pronounced with dignity.

  “Splendid, Prince!” said Aglaya, suddenly coming into the room. “I thank you with all my heart for considering me unable to stoop to lying. Is that enough for you, maman, or do you intend to inquire further?”

  “You know that up to now I have never had occasion to blush before you … though you might have been glad if I had,” Lizaveta Prokofyevna replied didactically. “Good-bye, Prince; forgive me for having troubled you. And I hope you remain assured of my unfailing respect for you.”

  The prince bowed at once to both sides and silently went out. Alexandra and Adelaida smiled and whispered something to each other. Lizaveta Ivanovna gave them a stern look.

  “It’s only because the prince bowed so wonderfully, maman,” Adelaida laughed. “Sometimes he’s a perfect sack, but now suddenly he’s like … like Evgeny Pavlych.”

  “Delicacy and dignity are taught by one’s own heart, not by a dancing master,” Lizaveta Prokofyevna concluded sententiously and went to her rooms upstairs without even glancing at Aglaya.

  When the prince returned home, at around nine o’clock, he found Vera Lukyanovna and the maid on the terrace. They were tidying and sweeping up together after yesterday’s disorder.

  “Thank God we finished before you came!” Vera said joyfully.

  “Good morning. My head is spinning a little; I slept poorly; I’d like to sleep.”

  “Here on the terrace like yesterday? Very well. I’ll tell everyone not to wake you up. Papa has gone somewhere.”

  The maid went out; Vera followed her, but then came back and worriedly went over to the prince.

  “Prince, have pity on this … unfortunate boy; don’t send him away today.”

  “I wouldn’t do that for anything; it will be as he likes.”

  “He won’t do anything now, and … don’t be severe with him.”

  “Oh, no, why would I?”

  “And … don’t laugh at him; that’s the most important thing.”

  “Oh, certainly not!”

  “It’s stupid of me to say that to a man like you,” Vera blushed. “And though you’re tired,” she laughed, half turning to leave, “you have such nice eyes at this moment … happy eyes.”

  “Happy, really?” the prince asked with animation and laughed joyfully.

  But Vera, simple-hearted and unceremonious as a young boy, suddenly became embarrassed, blushed all the more, and, still laughing, hastily left the room.

  “Such a … nice girl …” the prince thought and forgot about her at once. He went to the corner of the terrace, where there was a couch with a little table in front of it, sat down, covered his face with his hands, and went on sitting for some ten minutes; suddenly he thrust his hand hastily and anxiously into his side pocket and took out the three letters.

  But the door opened again and Kolya came in. The prince seemed glad that he had to put the letters back into his pocket and postpone the moment.

  “Well, quite an event!” said Kolya, sitting on the couch and going straight to the subject, like all his fellows. “How do you look at Ippolit now? Without respect?”

  “Why should … but I’m tired, Kolya … Besides, it’s too sad to start about that again … How is he, though?”

  “Asleep, and he’ll go on sleeping for another couple of hours. I understand; you didn’t sleep at home, you walked in the park … agitation, of course … what else!”

  “How do you know that I walked in the park and didn’t sleep at home?”

  “Vera just said so. She insisted that I not come in; I couldn’t help it, for a moment. I’ve spent these two hours watching at his bedside; now it’s Kostya Lebedev’s turn. Burdovsky left. Lie down, then, Prince. Good … well, good day! Only, you know, I’m really struck!”

  “Of course … all this …”

  “No, Prince, no; I’m struck by the confession. Above all by the place where he speaks about providence and the future life. There’s a gi-gan-tic thought there!”

  The prince gazed affectionately at Kolya, who had certainly come only to talk the sooner about the gigantic thought.

  “But the main thing, the main thing is not in the thought alone, but in the whole situation! If it had been written by Voltaire, Rousseau, Proudhon,25 I’d read it, make note of it, but I wouldn’t be struck to such a degree. But a man who knows for certain that he has ten minutes left, and who speaks like that—oh, that’s proud! That’s the highest independence of personal dignity, that means a direct challenge … No, it’s gigantic strength of spirit! And after that to maintain that he didn’t put the cap in on purpose—it’s mean, unnatural! And, you know, he deceived us yesterday, he tricked us: I never packed his bag with him and never saw the pistol; he packed everything himself, and then he suddenly got me confused. Vera says you’re letting him stay here; I swear there won’t be any danger, especially since we never leave him for an instant.”

  “And who of you was there during the night?”

  “Kostya Lebedev, Burdovsky, and I; Keller stayed for a while and then went to sleep at Lebedev’s, because we had no bed. Ferdyshchenko also slept at Lebedev’s; he left at seven. The general is always at Lebedev’s; he also left just now … Lebedev may come to see you presently; he’s been looking for you, I don’t know why, he asked twice. Shall I let him in or not, since you’re going to bed? I’m also going to sleep. Ah, yes, there’s something I might tell you; the general surprised me earlier: Burdovsky woke me up after six for my turn on duty, even almost at six; I stepped out for a minute and suddenly met the general, still so drunk that he didn’t recognize me; stood in front of me like a post; the moment he came to his senses, he simply fell on me: ‘How’s the sick boy?’ he says. ‘I was on my way to find out about the sick boy …’ I reported to him, well—this and that. ‘That’s all fine,’ he says, ‘but I was on my way, mainly, which is why I got up, to warn you; I have reasons to think that not everything can be said in front of Mr. Ferdyshchenko, and … one must restrain oneself.’ Can you understand that, Prince?”

  “Really? However … it’s all the same to us.”

  “Yes, undoubtedly it’s all the same, we’re not Masons!26 So that I even wondered why the general was coming at night on purpose to wake me up for that.”

  “Ferdyshchenko left, you say?”

  “At seven. He stopped to see me on his way; I was on duty! He said he was going to spend the rest of the night at Vilkin’s—there’s this drunk named Vilkin! Well, I’m going! And here is Lukyan Timofeich … The prince wants to sleep, Lukyan Timofeich; about-face!”

  “Just for one minute, my much-esteemed Prince, on a certain matter which is significant in my eyes,” the entering Lebedev said in a half-whisper, stiffly and in a sort of heartfelt tone, and bowed gravely. He had just returned and had not even had time to stop at his own quarters, so that he still had his hat in his hand. His face was preoccupied and had a special, extraordinary tinge of personal dignity. The prince invited him to sit down.

  “You asked for me twice? Perhaps you’re still worried about yesterday’s …”

  “About that boy yesterday, you mean, Prince? Oh, no, sir; yesterday my thoughts were in disarray … but today I no longer intend to countercarrate your intentions in any way.”

  “Counter … what did you say?”

  “I said countercarrate; it’s a French word,27 like many other words that have entered the Russian language; but I don’t especially insist on it.”

  “What is it with you today, Lebedev
, you’re so grave and decorous, and enunciate so distinctly,” the prince smiled.

  “Nikolai Ardalionovich!” Lebedev addressed Kolya in an all but affectionate voice, “having to inform the prince of a matter essentially of concern …”

  “Ah, yes, naturally, naturally, it’s none of my business! Good-bye, Prince!” Kolya left at once.

  “I like the child for his quick wits,” Lebedev said, looking at his back, “a nimble boy, though an importunate one. It is a great misfortune that I have experienced, my much-esteemed Prince, yesterday evening or today at dawn … I hesitate to specify the exact time.”

  “What is it?”

  “The disappearance of four hundred roubles from my side pocket, my much-esteemed Prince; I’ve been marked!” Lebedev added with a sour smile.

  “You lost four hundred roubles? That’s a pity.”

  “And especially if one is a poor man who lives nobly by his own labor.”

  “Of course, of course. How did it happen?”

  “On account of wine, sir. I am turning to you as to providence, my much-esteemed Prince. I received the sum of four hundred roubles in silver from a debtor yesterday at five o’clock in the afternoon and came here by train. I had the wallet in my pocket. Having changed from my uniform28 into a frock coat, I transferred the money to the frock coat, with a view to keeping it with me, counting on handing it over that same evening on a certain request … as I was expecting an agent.”

  “By the way, Lukyan Timofeich, is it true that you put a notice in the newspaper that you lend money for gold and silver objects?”

  “Through an agent; my name wasn’t mentioned, nor was my address. Having insignificant capital and in view of my growing family, you must agree that an honest percentage …”

  “Well, yes, yes; I merely wanted to know; excuse me for interrupting.”

  “The agent did not come. Meanwhile the unfortunate young man was brought; I was already under the influence, after dinner; those guests came, we had … tea, and … I waxed merry, to my undoing. And when, at a late hour, this Keller came and announced your celebration and your orders about the champagne, I, my dear and much-esteemed Prince, having a heart (which you have probably noticed by now, for I deserve it), having a heart which is, I do not say sensitive, but grateful, and I am proud of it—I, for the greater solemnity of the impending meeting and in expectation of personally offering my congratulations, decided to go and exchange my old rags for my uniform, which I had taken off on my return, and so I did, as you probably noticed, Prince, seeing me in my uniform all evening. In changing my clothes, I forgot the wallet in my frock coat … Verily, when God wishes to punish a man, he first deprives him of reason.29 And it was only today, at half-past seven, on awakening, that I jumped up like a half-wit and snatched my frock coat first thing—only an empty pocket! Not a trace of the wallet.”

  “Ah, that’s unpleasant!”

  “Precisely unpleasant; and you with your genuine tact have just found the suitable expression,” Lebedev added, not without insidiousness.

  “How is it, though …” the prince pondered, beginning to worry, “no, this is serious.”

  “Precisely serious—you’ve sought out yet another word, Prince, to signify …”

  “Oh, enough, Lukyan Timofeich, what was there to seek out? The words aren’t important … Do you suppose that, in a drunken state, you might have dropped it out of your pocket?”

  “I might have. Everything is possible in a drunken state, as you have so sincerely expressed it, my much-esteemed Prince! But I beg you to consider, sir: if I dropped the wallet out of my pocket while changing my frock coat, the dropped object should be lying there on the floor. Where is that object, sir?”

  “You didn’t stuff it into a desk drawer somewhere?”

  “I’ve looked all over, rummaged everywhere, the more so as I never hid it anywhere or opened any drawer, which I remember distinctly.”

  “Did you look in the little cupboard?”

  “First thing, sir, and even several times today … And how could I have put it into the little cupboard, my truly-esteemed Prince?”

  “I confess, Lebedev, this worries me. So someone found it on the floor?”

  “Or stole it from the pocket! Two alternatives, sir.”

  “This worries me very much, because who precisely … That’s the question!”

  “Without any doubt, that is the main question; you find words and thoughts and define the situation with astonishing precision, illustrious Prince.”

  “Ah, Lukyan Timofeich, stop your mockery, there’s …”

  “Mockery!” cried Lebedev, clasping his hands.

  “Well, well, all right, I’m not angry, there’s something else here … I’m afraid for people. Whom do you suspect?”

  “A most difficult and … most complicated question! I cannot suspect my maid: she was sitting in her kitchen. Nor my own children …”

  “Hardly!”

  “That means it was someone among the guests, sir.”

  “But is that possible?”

  “It is totally and in the highest degree impossible, but it must certainly be so. I agree, however, to allow, and am even convinced, that if there was a theft, it was carried out not in the evening, when we were all together, but at night or even towards morning, by someone who stayed overnight.”

  “Ah, my God!”

  “Burdovsky and Nikolai Ardalionovich I naturally exclude; they never entered my quarters, sir.”

  “Hardly, and even if they had! Who spent the night with you?”

  “Counting me, there were four who spent the night, in two adjacent rooms: me, the general, Keller, and Mr. Ferdyshchenko. Which means it’s one of us four, sir!”

  “Three, that is; but who?”

  “I included myself for the sake of fairness and order; but you must agree, Prince, that I couldn’t rob myself, though such things have happened in the world …”

  “Ah, Lebedev, this is so tedious!” the prince cried impatiently. “To business, why drag it out!…”

  “So three remain, sir, and first of all Mr. Keller, an unstable man, a drunk man, and on certain occasions a liberal, that is, with regard to the pocket, sir; in everything else his inclinations are, so to speak, more old chivalric than liberal. He slept here at first, in the sick boy’s room, and it was only at night that he moved over to us, on the pretext that it was hard to sleep on the bare floor.”

  “Do you suspect him?”

  “I did, sir. When I jumped up like a half-wit past seven in the morning and slapped myself on the forehead, I at once woke up the general, who was sleeping the sleep of the innocent. After considering the strange disappearance of Ferdyshchenko, which in itself aroused our suspicion, we both decided at once to search Keller, who was lying there like … like … almost like a doornail, sir. We searched him thoroughly: not a centime in his pockets, and not even a single pocket without holes in it. A blue, checked cotton handkerchief, sir, in indecent condition. Then a love note from some serving girl, with demands for money and threats, and the scraps of the feuilleton already familiar to you, sir. The general decided he was innocent. To obtain full information, we woke him up; we had a hard time jostling him; he was barely able to understand what it was all about; a gaping mouth, a drunken look, an absurd and innocent, even stupid, expression—it wasn’t he, sir!”

  “Well, I’m so glad!” the prince sighed joyfully. “I was so afraid for him!”

  “Afraid? Does that mean you have reasons to be?” Lebedev narrowed his eyes.

  “Oh, no, I just said it,” the prince checked himself. “It was stupid of me to say I was afraid. Kindly don’t tell anyone, Lebedev …”

  “Prince, Prince! Your words are in my heart … deep in my heart! A grave, sir!…” Lebedev said rapturously, pressing his hat to his heart.

  “All right, all right!… So it’s Ferdyshchenko? That is, I mean to say, you suspect Ferdyshchenko?”

  “Who else?” Lebedev said quietly, loo
king intently at the prince.

  “Well, yes, naturally … who else … that is, once again, what evidence is there?”

  “There is evidence, sir. First of all, his disappearance at seven o’clock or even before seven o’clock in the morning.”

  “I know, Kolya told me he came and said he was going to spend the rest of the night at … I forget whose place, some friend’s.”

  “Vilkin, sir. So Nikolai Ardalionovich told you already?”

  “He didn’t say anything about the theft.”

  “He doesn’t know, for I have so far kept the matter a secret. And so, he goes to Vilkin; you might think, what’s so puzzling about a drunk man going to see another drunk man just like himself, even though it’s the wee hours of the morning and without any reason at all, sir? But it’s here that the trail begins: on his way out, he leaves the address … Now follow the question, Prince: why did he leave the address?… Why does he purposely go to Nikolai Ardalionovich, making a detour, sir, and tell him, ‘I’m going to spend the rest of the night at Vilkin’s’? And who is interested in his leaving and going precisely to Vilkin’s? Why announce it? No, there’s a subtlety here, a thievish subtlety! It means: ‘Look here, I’m not concealing my tracks, what kind of thief am I after that? Would a thief announce where he’s going?’ An excessive concern about diverting suspicion and, so to speak, wiping away his tracks in the sand … Do you understand me, my much-esteemed Prince?”

  “I understand, I understand very well, but is that enough?”

  “A second piece of evidence, sir: the trail turned out to be false, and the address he gave was inexact. An hour later, that is, at eight o’clock, I was already knocking on Vilkin’s door; he lives here, on Fifth Street, sir, I’m even acquainted with him. There wasn’t any Ferdyshchenko there. Though I did get out of the maid—she’s completely deaf, sir—that an hour earlier someone had actually knocked, and even rather hard, so that he broke the bell. But the maid didn’t open the door, not wishing to waken Mr. Vilkin, and maybe not wanting to get out of bed herself. It happens, sir.”