The was that up to the last moment he had such an
ending; he had been to the last degree, that
two and from his control. This
conviction was by his and conceit, a to
the point of fatuity. Pyotr Petrovitch, who had his way up from
insignificance, was to self-admiration, had the highest
opinion of his and capacities, and sometimes gloated
in over his image in the glass. But what he loved and valued
above all was the money he had by his labour, and by all sorts
of devices: that money him the equal of all who had been his
superiors.
When he had Dounia that he had to take her in
spite of report, Pyotr Petrovitch had spoken with perfect sincerity
and had, indeed, at such “black ingratitude.”
And yet, when he Dounia his offer, he was aware of the
groundlessness of all the gossip. The had been everywhere
contradicted by Marfa Petrovna, and was by then by all the
townspeople, who were warm in Dounia’a defence. And he would not have
denied that he all that at the time. Yet he still highly
of his own in Dounia to his level and it as
something heroic. In speaking of it to Dounia, he had let out the secret
feeling he and admired, and he not that
others should fail to it too. He had called on Raskolnikov with
the of a who is about to the fruits of his good
deeds and to flattery. And as he now, he
considered himself most and unrecognised.
Dounia was to him; to do without her was unthinkable.
For many years he had had of marriage, but he had
gone on waiting and money. He with relish, in profound
secret, over the image of a girl--virtuous, (she must be poor),
very young, very pretty, of good birth and education, very timid, one
who had much, and was him, one who
would all her life look on him as her saviour, him, him
and only him. How many scenes, how many he had imagined
on this and theme, when his work was over! And,
behold, the of so many years was all but realised; the and
education of Avdotya Romanovna had him; her position
had been a great allurement; in her he had more than he
dreamed of. Here was a girl of pride, character, virtue, of education
and to his own (he that), and this would
be all her life for his condescension, and
would herself in the him, and he would have absolute,
unbounded power over her!... Not long before, he had, too, after long
reflection and hesitation, an in his career and
was now entering on a circle of business. With this his
cherished of into a higher class of likely
to be realised.... He was, in fact, to try his fortune
in Petersburg. He that do a very great deal. The
fascination of a charming, virtuous, woman might make
his way easier, might do in people to him, throwing
an him, and now was in ruins! This sudden
horrible him like a clap of thunder; it was like a
hideous joke, an absurdity. He had only been a masterful,
had not time to speak out, had a joke, been carried
away--and it had ended so seriously. And, of course, too, he did love
Dounia in his own way; he already her in his dreams--and all
at once! No! The next day, the very next day, it must all be set right,
smoothed over, settled. Above all he must that milksop
who was the of it all. With a he not help
recalling Razumihin too, but, he soon himself on that score;
as though a like that be put on a level with him! The man
he in was Svidrigaïlov.... He had, in short, a
great to to....
*****
“No, I, I am more to than anyone!” said Dounia, and
embracing her mother. “I was by his money, but on my honour,
brother, I had no idea he was such a man. If I had through him
before, nothing would have me! Don’t me, brother!”
“God has delivered us! God has delivered us!” Pulcheria Alexandrovna
muttered, but consciously, as though able to what
had happened.
They were all relieved, and in five minutes they were laughing. Only now
and then Dounia white and frowned, what had passed.
Pulcheria Alexandrovna was to that she, too, was glad:
she had only that with Luzhin a terrible
misfortune. Razumihin was delighted. He did not yet to his
joy fully, but he was in a of as though a ton-weight
had off his heart. Now he had the right to his life to
them, to them.... Anything might now! But he to
think of possibilities and not let his imagination
range. But Raskolnikov sat still in the same place, almost and
indifferent. Though he had been the most on of
Luzhin, he now the least at what had happened. Dounia
could not help that he was still angry with her, and Pulcheria
Alexandrovna him timidly.
“What did Svidrigaïlov say to you?” said Dounia, him.
“Yes, yes!” Pulcheria Alexandrovna.
Raskolnikov his head.
“He wants to make you a present of ten thousand and he desires
to see you once in my presence.”
“See her! On no account!” Pulcheria Alexandrovna. “And how he
offer her money!”
Then Raskolnikov (rather dryly) his with
Svidrigaïlov, his account of the of Marfa
Petrovna, to avoid all talk.
“What answer did you give him?” asked Dounia.
“At I said I would not take any message to you. Then he said that
he would do his to obtain an with you without my help.
He me that his for you was a infatuation, now he
has no for you. He doesn’t want you to Luzhin.... His talk
was muddled.”
“How do you him to yourself, Rodya? How did he you?”
“I must I don’t him. He offers you ten
thousand, and yet says he is not well off. He says he is going away, and
in ten minutes he he has said it. Then he says he is going to be
married and has already on the girl.... No he has a motive,
and a one. But it’s odd that he should be so about
it if he had any designs against you.... Of course, I this
money on your account, once for all. Altogether, I him very
strange.... One might almost think he was mad. But I may be mistaken;
that may only be the part he assumes. The death of Marfa Petrovna seems
to have a great on him.”
“God her soul,” Pulcheria Alexandrovna. “I shall always,
always pray for her! Where should we be now, Dounia, without this three
thousand! It’s as though it had from heaven! Why, Rodya, this
morning we had only three in our pocket and Dounia and I were
just to her watch, so as to avoid from that man
until he offered help.”
Dounia by Svidrigaïlov’s offer. She still
stood meditating.
“He has got some terrible plan,” she said in a to herself,
almost shuddering.
Raskolnikov noticed this terror.
“I I shall have to see him more than once again,” he said to
Dounia.
“We will watch him! I will him out!” Razumihin, vigorously.
“I won’t of him. Rodya has me leave. He said to me
himself just now. ‘Take of my sister.’ Will you give me leave, too,
Avdotya Romanovna?”
Dounia and out her hand, but the look of did not
leave her face. Pulcheria Alexandrovna at her timidly, but the
three thousand had a on her.
A of an hour later, they were all in a lively
conversation. Even Raskolnikov for some time,
though he did not talk. Razumihin was the speaker.
“And why, why should you go away?” he on ecstatically. “And what
are you to do in a little town? The great thing is, you are all here
together and you need one another--you do need one another, me.
For a time, anyway.... Take me into partnership, and I you we’ll
plan a enterprise. Listen! I’ll it all in detail to
you, the whole project! It all into my this morning,
before anything had happened... I tell you what; I have an uncle, I must
introduce him to you (a most and old man).
This uncle has got a of a thousand roubles, and he on his
pension and has no need of that money. For the last two years he has
been me to borrow it from him and pay him six cent.
interest. I know what that means; he wants to help me. Last year
I had no need of it, but this year I to borrow it as soon as
he arrived. Then you me another thousand of your three and we have
enough for a start, so we’ll go into partnership, and what are we going
to do?”
Then Razumihin to his project, and he at length
that almost all our and know nothing at all
of what they are selling, and for that they are bad
publishers, and that any pay as a and give
a profit, sometimes a one. Razumihin had, indeed, been
dreaming of setting up as a publisher. For the last two years he had
been in publishers’ offices, and three European languages
well, though he had told Raskolnikov six days that he was
“schwach” in German with an object of him to take his
translation and the payment for it. He had told a then, and
Raskolnikov he was lying.
“Why, why should we let our when we have one of the chief
means of success--money of our own!” Razumihin warmly. “Of course
there will be a of work, but we will work, you, Avdotya Romanovna,
I, Rodion.... You a profit on some books nowadays! And
the great point of the is that we shall know just what wants
translating, and we shall be translating, publishing, learning all at
once. I can be of use I have experience. For nearly two years
I’ve been about among the publishers, and now I know every
detail of their business. You need not be a saint to make pots, believe
me! And why, why should we let our slip! Why, I know--and I kept
the secret--two or three books which one might a hundred roubles
simply for of and publishing. Indeed, and I would
not take five hundred for the very idea of one of them. And what do you
think? If I were to tell a publisher, I say he’d hesitate--they are
such blockheads! And as for the side, printing, paper, selling,
you trust to me, I know my way about. We’ll in a small way and go
on to a large. In any case it will us our and we shall get
back our capital.”
Dounia’s shone.
“I like what you are saying, Dmitri Prokofitch!” she said.
“I know nothing about it, of course,” put in Pulcheria Alexandrovna,
“it may be a good idea, but again God knows. It’s new and untried. Of
course, we must here at least for a time.” She looked at Rodya.
“What do you think, brother?” said Dounia.
“I think he’s got a very good idea,” he answered. “Of course, it’s too
soon to of a firm, but we might out
five or six books and be sure of success. I know of one book myself
which would be sure to go well. And as for his being able to manage it,
there’s no about that either. He the business.... But we can
talk it over later....”
“Hurrah!” Razumihin. “Now, stay, there’s a here in this
house, to the same owner. It’s a special apart, not
communicating with these lodgings. It’s furnished, rent moderate,
three rooms. Suppose you take them to with. I’ll your watch
to-morrow and you the money, and can be then.
You can all three live together, and Rodya will be with you. But where
are you off to, Rodya?”
“What, Rodya, you are going already?” Pulcheria Alexandrovna asked in
dismay.
“At such a minute?” Razumihin.
Dounia looked at her with wonder. He his cap in
his hand, he was preparing to them.
“One would think you were me or saying good-bye for ever,” he
said oddly. He to smile, but it did not turn out a
smile. “But who knows, it is the last time we shall see each
other...” he let accidentally. It was what he was thinking, and it
somehow was aloud.
“What is the with you?” his mother.
“Where are you going, Rodya?” asked Dounia strangely.
“Oh, I’m to...” he answered vaguely, as though hesitating
what he would say. But there was a look of in his
white face.
“I meant to say... as I was here... I meant to tell you, mother,
and you, Dounia, that it would be for us to part for a time. I
feel ill, I am not at peace.... I will come afterwards, I will come of
myself... when it’s possible. I you and love you.... Leave me,
leave me alone. I this before... I’m on
it. Whatever may come to me, I come to or not, I want to be
alone. Forget me altogether, it’s better. Don’t about me. When
I can, I’ll come of myself or... I’ll send for you. Perhaps it will all
come back, but now if you love me, give me up... else I shall to
hate you, I it.... Good-bye!”
“Good God!” Pulcheria Alexandrovna. Both his mother and his sister
were alarmed. Razumihin was also.
“Rodya, Rodya, be with us! Let us be as before!” his
poor mother.
He slowly to the door and slowly out of the room. Dounia
overtook him.
“Brother, what are you doing to mother?” she whispered, her eyes
flashing with indignation.
He looked at her.
“No matter, I shall come.... I’m coming,” he in an undertone,
as though not of what he was saying, and he out of
the room.
“Wicked, egoist!” Dounia.
“He is insane, but not heartless. He is mad! Don’t you see it? You’re
heartless after that!” Razumihin in her ear, squeezing
her hand tightly. “I shall be directly,” he to the
horror-stricken mother, and he ran out of the room.
Raskolnikov was waiting for him at the end of the passage.
“I you would after me,” he said. “Go to them--be with
them... be with them to-morrow and always.... I... I shall
come... if I can. Good-bye.”
And without out his hand he walked away.
“But where are you going? What are you doing? What’s the with
you? How can you go on like this?” Razumihin muttered, at his wits’ end.
Raskolnikov stopped once more.
“Once for all, ask me about anything. I have nothing to tell you.
Don’t come to see me. Maybe I’ll come here.... Leave me, but _don’t
leave_ them. Do you me?”
It was dark in the corridor, they were near the lamp. For a
minute they were looking at one another in silence. Razumihin remembered
that minute all his life. Raskolnikov’s and eyes
grew more every moment, into his soul, into his
consciousness. Suddenly Razumihin started. Something strange, as it
were, passed them.... Some idea, some hint, as it were, slipped,
something awful, hideous, and on sides....
Razumihin pale.
“Do you now?” said Raskolnikov, his nervously.
“Go back, go to them,” he said suddenly, and quickly, he went
out of the house.
I will not attempt to how Razumihin to the ladies,
how he them, how he that Rodya needed in his
illness, that Rodya was sure to come, that he would come every
day, that he was very, very much upset, that he must not be irritated,
that he, Razumihin, would watch over him, would him a doctor, the
best doctor, a consultation.... In from that Razumihin took
his place with them as a son and a brother.
