Pulcheria Alexandrovna was a little offended.
"You seem to think we are completely under your authority, Pyotr Petrovitch.
Dounia has told you the reason your desire was disregarded, she had the best intentions.
And indeed you write as though you were laying commands upon me. Are we to consider
every desire of yours as a command? Let me tell you on the contrary that you ought
to show particular delicacy and consideration for us now, because we have thrown
up everything, and have come here relying on you, and so we are in any case in a
sense in your hands."
"That is not quite true, Pulcheria Alexandrovna, especially at the present moment,
when the news has come of Marfa Petrovna's legacy, which seems indeed very apropos,
judging from the new tone you take to me," he added sarcastically.
"Judging from that remark, we may certainly presume that you were reckoning on
our helplessness," Dounia observed irritably.
"But now in any case I cannot reckon on it, and I particularly desire not to
hinder your discussion of the secret proposals of Arkady Ivanovitch Svidrigailov,
which he has entrusted to your brother and which have, I perceive, a great and possibly
a very agreeable interest for you."
"Good heavens!" cried Pulcheria Alexandrovna.
Razumihin could not sit still on his chair.
"Aren't you ashamed now, sister?" asked Raskolnikov.
"I am ashamed, Rodya," said Dounia. "Pyotr Petrovitch, go away," she turned to
him, white with anger.
Pyotr Petrovitch had apparently not at all expected such a conclusion. He had
too much confidence in himself, in his power and in the helplessness of his victims.
He could not believe it even now. He turned pale, and his lips quivered.
"Avdotyo Romanovna, if I go out of this door now, after such a dismissal, then,
you may reckon on it, I will never come back. Consider what you are doing. My word
is not to be shaken."
"What insolence!" cried Dounia, springing up from her seat. "I don't want you
to come back again."
"What! So that's how it stands!" cried Luzhin, utterly unable to the last moment
to believe in the rupture and so completely thrown out of his reckoning now. "So
that's how it stands! But do you know, Avdotya Romanovna, that I might protest?"
"What right have you to speak to her like that?" Pulcheria Alexandrovna intervened
hotly. "And what can you protest about? What rights have you? Am I to give my Dounia
to a man like you? Go away, leave us altogether! We are to blame for having agreed
to a wrong action, and I above all…."
"But you have bound me, Pulcheria Alexandrovna," Luzhin stormed in a frenzy,
"by your promise, and now you deny it and… besides… I have been led on account of
that into expenses…."
This last complaint was so characteristic of Pyotr Petrovitch, that Raskolnikov,
pale with anger and with the effort of restraining it, could not help breaking into
laughter. But Pulcheria Alexandrovna was furious.
"Expenses? What expenses? Are you speaking of our trunk? But the conductor brought
it for nothing for you. Mercy on us, we have bound you! What are you thinking about,
Pyotr Petrovitch, it was you bound us, hand and foot, not we!"
"Enough, mother, no more please," Avdotya Romanovna implored. "Pyotr Petrovitch,
do be kind and go!"
"I am going, but one last word," he said, quite unable to control himself. "Your
mamma seems to have entirely forgotten that I made up my mind to take you, so to
speak, after the gossip of the town had spread all over the district in regard to
your reputation. Disregarding public opinion for your sake and reinstating your
reputation, I certainly might very well reckon on a fitting return, and might indeed
look for gratitude on your part. And my eyes have only now been opened! I see myself
that I may have acted very, very recklessly in disregarding the universal verdict…."
"Does the fellow want his head smashed?" cried Razumihin, jumping up.
"You are a mean and spiteful man!" cried Dounia.
"Not a word! Not a movement!" cried Raskolnikov, holding Razumihin back; then
going close up to Luzhin, "Kindly leave the room!" he said quietly and distinctly,
"and not a word more or…"
Pyotr Petrovitch gazed at him for some seconds with a pale face that worked with
anger, then he turned, went out, and rarely has any man carried away in his heart
such vindictive hatred as he felt against Raskolnikov. Him, and him alone, he blamed
for everything. It is noteworthy that as he went downstairs he still imagined that
his case was perhaps not utterly lost, and that, so far as the ladies were concerned,
all might "very well indeed" be set right again. CHAPTERTHREE Chapter Three
-
THE FACT was that up to the last moment he had never expected such an ending;
he had been overbearing to the last degree, never dreaming that two destitute and
defenceless women could escape from his control. This conviction was strengthened
by his vanity and conceit, a conceit to the point of fatuity. Pyotr Petrovitch,
who had made his way up from insignificance, was morbidly given to self-admiration,
had the highest opinion of his intelligence and capacities, and sometimes even gloated
in solitude over his image in the glass. But what he loved and valued above all
was the money he had amassed by his labour, and by all sorts of devices: that money
made him the equal of all who had been his superiors.
When he had bitterly reminded Dounia that he had decided to take her in spite
of evil report, Pyotr Petrovitch had spoken with perfect sincerity and had, indeed,
felt genuinely indignant at such "black ingratitude." And yet, when he made Dounia
his offer, he was fully aware of the groundlessness of all the gossip. The story
had been everywhere contradicted by Marfa Petrovna, and was by then disbelieved
by all the townspeople, who were warm in Dounia'a defence. And he would not have
denied that he knew all that at the time. Yet he still thought highly of his own
resolution in lifting Dounia to his level and regarded it as something heroic. In
speaking of it to Dounia, he had let out the secret feeling he cherished and admired,
and he could not understand that others should fail to admire it too. He had called
on Raskolnikov with the feelings of a benefactor who is about to reap the fruits
of his good deeds and to hear agreeable flattery. And as he went downstairs now,
he considered himself most undeservedly injured and unrecognised.
Dounia was simply essential to him; to do without her was unthinkable. For many
years he had voluptuous dreams of marriage, but he had gone on waiting and amassing
money. He brooded with relish, in profound secret, over the image of a girl– virtuous,
poor (she must be poor), very young, very pretty, of good birth and education, very
timid, one who had suffered much, and was completely humbled before him, one who
would all her life look on him as her saviour, worship him, admire him and only
him. How many scenes, how many amorous episodes he had imagined on this seductive
and playful theme, when his work was over! And, behold, the dream of so many years
was all but realised; the beauty and education of Avdotya Romanovna had impressed
him; her helpless position had been a great allurement; in her he had found even
more than he dreamed of. Here was a girl of pride, character, virtue, of education
and breeding superior to his own (he felt that), and this creature would be slavishly
grateful all her life for his heroic condescension, and would humble herself in
the dust before him, and he would have absolute, unbounded power over her!… Not
long before, he had, too, after long reflection and hesitation, made an important
change in his career and was now entering on a wider circle of business. With this
change his cherished dreams of rising into a higher class of society seemed likely
to be realised…. He was, in fact, determined to try his fortune in Petersburg. He
knew that women could do a very great deal. The fascination of a charming, virtuous,
highly educated woman might make his way easier, might do wonders in attracting
people to him, throwing an aureole round him, and now everything was in ruins! This
sudden horrible rupture affected him like a clap of thunder; it was like a hideous
joke, an absurdity. He had only been a tiny bit masterful, had not even time to
speak out, had simply made 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 possessed 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 crush that conceited milksop
who was the cause of it all. With a sick feeling he could not help recalling Razumihin
too, but, he soon reassured himself on that score; as though a fellow like that
could be put on a level with him! The man he really dreaded in earnest was Svidrigailov….
He had, in short, a great deal to attend to…. –
"No, I, I am more to blame than any one!" said Dounia, kissing and embracing
her mother. "I was tempted by his money, but on my honour, brother, I had no idea
he was such a base man. If I had seen through him before, nothing would have tempted
me! Don't blame me, brother!"
"God has delivered us! God has delivered us!" Pulcheria Alexandrovna muttered,
but half consciously, as though scarcely able to realise what had happened.
They were all relieved, and in five minutes they were laughing. Only now and
then Dounia turned white and frowned, remembering what had passed. Pulcheria Alexandrovna
was surprised to find that she, too, was glad: she had only that morning thought
rupture with Luzhin a terrible misfortune. Razumihin was delighted. He did not yet
dare to express his joy fully, but he was in a fever of excitement as though a ton-weight
had fallen off his heart. Now he had the right to devote his life to them, to serve
them…. Anything might happen now! But he felt afraid to think of further possibilities
and dared not let his imagination range. But Raskolnikov sat still in the same place,
almost sullen and indifferent. Though he had been the most insistent on getting
rid of Luzhin, he seemed now the least concerned at what had happened. Dounia could
not help thinking that he was still angry with her, and Pulcheria Alexandrovna watched
him timidly.
"What did Svidrigailov say to you?" said Dounia, approaching him.
"Yes, yes!" cried Pulcheria Alexandrovna.
Raskolnikov raised his head.
"He wants to make you a present of ten thousand roubles and he desires to see
you once in my presence."
"See her! On no account!" cried Pulcheria Alexandrovna. "And how dare he offer
her money!"
Then Raskolnikov repeated (rather drily) his conversation with Svidrigailov,
omitting his account of the ghostly visitations of Marfa Petrovna, wishing to avoid
all unnecessary talk.
"What answer did you give him?" asked Dounia.
"At first I said I would not take any message to you. Then he said that he would
do his utmost to obtain an interview with you without my help. He assured me that
his passion for you was a passing infatuation, now he has no feeling for you. He
doesn't want you to marry Luzhin…. His talk was altogether rather muddled."
"How do you explain him to yourself, Rodya? How did he strike you?"
"I must confess I don't quite understand 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 forgets
he has said it. Then he says is he going to be married and has already fixed on
the girl…. No doubt he has a motive, and probably a bad one. But it's odd that he
should be so clumsy about it if he had any designs against you…. Of course, I refused
this money on your account, once for all. Altogether, I thought 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 made a great impression on
him."
"God rest her soul," exclaimed 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 fallen from heaven! Why, Rodya, this morning we had only three
roubles in our pocket and Dounia and I were just planning to pawn her watch, so
as to avoid borrowing from that man until he offered help."
Dounia seemed strangely impressed by Svidrigailov's offer. She still stood meditating.
"He has got some terrible plan," she said in a half whisper to herself, almost
shuddering.
Raskolnikov noticed this disproportionate terror.
"I fancy I shall have to see him more than once again," he said to Dounia.
"We will watch him! I will track him out!" cried Razumihin, vigorously. "I won't
lose sight of him. Rodya has given me leave. He said to me himself just now. 'Take
care of my sister.' Will you give me leave, too, Avdotya Romanovna?"
Dounia smiled and held out her hand, but the look of anxiety did not leave her
face. Pulcheria Alexandrovna gazed at her timidly, but the three thousand roubles
had obviously a soothing effect on her.
A quarter of an hour later, they were all engaged in a lively conversation. Even
Raskolnikov listened attentively for some time, though he did not talk. Razumihin
was the speaker.
"And why, why should you go away?" he flowed 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, believe me. For a time, anyway…. Take me into
partnership and I assure you we'll plan a capital enterprise. Listen! I'll explain
it all in detail to you, the whole project! It all flashed into my head this morning,
before anything had happened… I tell you what; I have an uncle, I must introduce
him to you (a most accommodating and respectable old man). This uncle has got a
capital of a thousand roubles, and he lives on his pension and has no need of that
money. For the last two years he has been bothering me to borrow it from him and
pay him six per cent. interest. I know what that means; he simply wants to help
me. Last year I had no need of it, but this year I resolved to borrow it as soon
as he arrived. Then you lend 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?"