PART III - IX

The Idiot

by Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Translated by Eva Martin

PART III - IX, THE IDIOT by Fyodor Dostoyevsky
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ARRIVED at her house, Lizabetha Prokofievna paused in the first
room. She could go no farther, and subsided on to a couch quite
exhausted; too feeble to remember so much as to ask the prince to
take a seat. This was a large reception-room, full of flowers,
and with a glass door leading into the garden.

Alexandra and Adelaida came in almost immediately, and looked
inquiringly at the prince and their mother.

The girls generally rose at about nine in the morning in the
country; Aglaya, of late, had been in the habit of getting up
rather earlier and having a walk in the garden, but not at seven
o'clock; about eight or a little later was her usual time.

Lizabetha Prokofievna, who really had not slept all night, rose
at about eight on purpose to meet Aglaya in the garden and walk
with her; but she could not find her either in the garden or in
her own room.

This agitated the old lady considerably; and she awoke her other
daughters. Next, she learned from the maid that Aglaya had gone
into the park before seven o'clock. The sisters made a joke of
Aglaya's last freak, and told their mother that if she went into
the park to look for her, Aglaya would probably be very angry
with her, and that she was pretty sure to be sitting reading on
the green bench that she had talked of two or three days since,
and about which she had nearly quarrelled with Prince S., who did
not see anything particularly lovely in it.

Arrived at the rendezvous of the prince and her daughter, and
hearing the strange words of the latter, Lizabetha Prokofievna
had been dreadfully alarmed, for many reasons. However, now that
she had dragged the prince home with her, she began to feel a
little frightened at what she had undertaken. Why should not
Aglaya meet the prince in the park and have a talk with him, even
if such a meeting should be by appointment?

"Don't suppose, prince," she began, bracing herself up for the
effort, "don't suppose that I have brought you here to ask
questions. After last night, I assure you, I am not so
exceedingly anxious to see you at all; I could have postponed the
pleasure for a long while." She paused.

"But at the same time you would be very glad to know how I
happened to meet Aglaya Ivanovna this morning?" The prince
finished her speech for her with the utmost composure.

"Well, what then? Supposing I should like to know?" cried
Lizabetha Prokofievna, blushing. "I'm sure I am not afraid of
plain speaking. I'm not offending anyone, and I never wish to,
and--"

"Pardon me, it is no offence to wish to know this; you are her
mother. We met at the green bench this morning, punctually at
seven o'clock,--according to an agreement made by Aglaya Ivanovna
with myself yesterday. She said that she wished to see me and
speak to me about something important. We met and conversed for
an hour about matters concerning Aglaya Ivanovna herself, and
that's all."

"Of course it is all, my friend. I don't doubt you for a moment,"
said Lizabetha Prokofievna with dignity.

"Well done, prince, capital!" cried Aglaya, who entered the room
at this moment. "Thank you for assuming that I would not demean
myself with lies. Come, is that enough, mamma, or do you intend
to put any more questions?"

"You know I have never needed to blush before you, up to this
day, though perhaps you would have been glad enough to make me,"
said Lizabetha Prokofievna,--with majesty. "Good-bye, prince;
forgive me for bothering you. I trust you will rest assured of my
unalterable esteem for you."

The prince made his bows and retired at once. Alexandra and
Adelaida smiled and whispered to each other, while Lizabetha
Prokofievna glared severely at them. "We are only laughing at the
prince's beautiful bows, mamma," said Adelaida. "Sometimes he
bows just like a meal-sack, but to-day he was like--like Evgenie
Pavlovitch!"

"It is the HEART which is the best teacher of refinement and
dignity, not the dancing-master," said her mother, sententiously,
and departed upstairs to her own room, not so much as glancing at
Aglaya.

When the prince reached home, about nine o'clock, he found Vera
Lebedeff and the maid on the verandah. They were both busy trying
to tidy up the place after last night's disorderly party.

"Thank goodness, we've just managed to finish it before you came
in!" said Vera, joyfully.

"Good-morning! My head whirls so; I didn't sleep all night. I
should like to have a nap now."

"Here, on the verandah? Very well, I'll tell them all not to come
and wake you. Papa has gone out somewhere."

The servant left the room. Vera was about to follow her, but
returned and approached the prince with a preoccupied air.

"Prince!" she said, "have pity on that poor boy; don't turn him
out today."

"Not for the world; he shall do just as he likes."

"He won't do any harm now; and--and don't be too severe with
him,"

"Oh dear no! Why--"

"And--and you won't LAUGH at him? That's the chief thing."

"Oh no! Never."

"How foolish I am to speak of such things to a man like you,"
said Vera, blushing. "Though you DO look tired," she added, half
turning away," your eyes are so splendid at this moment--so full
of happiness."

"Really?" asked the prince, gleefully, and he laughed in delight.

But Vera, simple-minded little girl that she was (just like a
boy, in fact), here became dreadfully confused, of a sudden, and
ran hastily out of the room, laughing and blushing.

"What a dear little thing she is," thought the prince, and
immediately forgot all about her.

He walked to the far end of the verandah, where the sofa stood,
with a table in front of it. Here he sat down and covered his
face with his hands, and so remained for ten minutes. Suddenly he
put his hand in his coat-pocket and hurriedly produced three
letters.

But the door opened again, and out came Colia.

The prince actually felt glad that he had been interrupted,--and
might return the letters to his pocket. He was glad of the
respite.

"Well," said Colia, plunging in medias res, as he always did,
"here's a go! What do you think of Hippolyte now? Don't respect
him any longer, eh?"

"Why not? But look here, Colia, I'm tired; besides, the subject
is too melancholy to begin upon again. How is he, though?"

"Asleep--he'll sleep for a couple of hours yet. I quite
understand--you haven't slept--you walked about the park, I know.
Agitation--excitement--all that sort of thing--quite natural,
too!"

"How do you know I walked in the park and didn't sleep at home?"

"Vera just told me. She tried to persuade me not to come, but I
couldn't help myself, just for one minute. I have been having my
turn at the bedside for the last two hours; Kostia Lebedeff is
there now. Burdovsky has gone. Now, lie down, prince, make
yourself comfortable, and sleep well! I'm awfully impressed, you
know."

"Naturally, all this--"

"No, no, I mean with the 'explanation,' especially that part of
it where he talks about Providence and a future life. There is a
gigantic thought there."

The prince gazed affectionately at Colia, who, of course, had
come in solely for the purpose of talking about this "gigantic
thought."

"But it is not any one particular thought, only; it is the
general circumstances of the case. If Voltaire had written this
now, or Rousseau, I should have just read it and thought it
remarkable, but should not have been so IMPRESSED by it. But a
man who knows for certain that he has but ten minutes to live and
can talk like that--why--it's--it's PRIDE, that is! It is really
a most extraordinary, exalted assertion of personal dignity,
it's--it's DEFIANT! What a GIGANTIC strength of will, eh? And to
accuse a fellow like that of not putting in the cap on purpose;
it's base and mean! You know he deceived us last night, the
cunning rascal. I never packed his bag for him, and I never saw
his pistol. He packed it himself. But he put me off my guard like
that, you see. Vera says you are going to let him stay on; I
swear there's no danger, especially as we are always with him."

"Who was by him at night?"

"I, and Burdovsky, and Kostia Lebedeff. Keller stayed a little
while, and then went over to Lebedeff's to sleep. Ferdishenko
slept at Lebedeff's, too; but he went away at seven o'clock. My
father is always at Lebedeff's; but he has gone out just now. I
dare say Lebedeff will be coming in here directly; he has been
looking for you; I don't know what he wants. Shall we let him in
or not, if you are asleep? I'm going to have a nap, too. By-the-
by, such a curious thing happened. Burdovsky woke me at seven,
and I met my father just outside the room, so drunk, he didn't
even know me. He stood before me like a log, and when he
recovered himself, asked hurriedly how Hippolyte was. 'Yes,' he
said, when I told him, 'that's all very well, but I REALLY came
to warn you that you must be very careful what you say before
Ferdishenko.' Do you follow me, prince?"

"Yes. Is it really so? However, it's all the same to us, of
course."

"Of course it is; we are not a secret society; and that being the
case, it is all the more curious that the general should have
been on his way to wake me up in order to tell me this."

"Ferdishenko has gone, you say?"

"Yes, he went at seven o'clock. He came into the room on his way
out; I was watching just then. He said he was going to spend 'the
rest of the night' at Wilkin's; there's a tipsy fellow, a friend
of his, of that name. Well, I'm off. Oh, here's Lebedeff himself!
The prince wants to go to sleep, Lukian Timofeyovitch, so you may
just go away again."

"One moment, my dear prince, just one. I must absolutely speak to
you about something which is most grave," said Lebedeff,
mysteriously and solemnly, entering the room with a bow and
looking extremely important. He had but just returned, and
carried his hat in his hand. He looked preoccupied and most
unusually dignified.

The prince begged him to take a chair.

"I hear you have called twice; I suppose you are still worried
about yesterday's affair."

"What, about that boy, you mean? Oh dear no, yesterday my ideas
were a little--well--mixed. Today, I assure you, I shall not
oppose in the slightest degree any suggestions it may please you
to make."

"What's up with you this morning, Lebedeff? You look so important
and dignified, and you choose your words so carefully," said the
prince, smiling.

"Nicolai Ardalionovitch!" said Lebedeff, in a most amiable tone
of voice, addressing the boy. "As I have a communication to make
to the prince which concerns only myself--"

"Of course, of course, not my affair. All right," said Colia, and
away he went.

"I love that boy for his perception," said Lebedeff, looking
after him. "My dear prince," he continued, "I have had a terrible
misfortune, either last night or early this morning. I cannot
tell the exact time."

"What is it?"

"I have lost four hundred roubles out of my side pocket! They're
gone!" said Lebedeff, with a sour smile.

"You've lost four hundred roubles? Oh! I'm sorry for that."

"Yes, it is serious for a poor man who lives by his toil."

"Of course, of course! How was it?"

"Oh, the wine is to blame, of course. I confess to you, prince,
as I would to Providence itself. Yesterday I received four
hundred roubles from a debtor at about five in the afternoon, and
came down here by train. I had my purse in my pocket. When I
changed, I put the money into the pocket of my plain clothes,
intending to keep it by me, as I expected to have an applicant
for it in the evening."

"It's true then, Lebedeff, that you advertise to lend money on
gold or silver articles?"

"Yes, through an agent. My own name doesn't appear. I have a
large family, you see, and at a small percentage--"

"Quite so, quite so. I only asked for information--excuse the
question. Go on."

"Well, meanwhile that sick boy was brought here, and those guests
came in, and we had tea, and--well, we made merry--to my ruin!
Hearing of your birthday afterwards, and excited with the
circumstances of the evening, I ran upstairs and changed my plain
clothes once more for my uniform [Civil Service clerks in Russia
wear uniform.]--you must have noticed I had my uniform on all the
evening? Well, I forgot the money in the pocket of my old coat--
you know when God will ruin a man he first of all bereaves him of
his senses--and it was only this morning at half-past seven that
I woke up and grabbed at my coat pocket, first thing. The pocket
was empty--the purse gone, and not a trace to be found!"

"Dear me! This is very unpleasant!"

"Unpleasant! Indeed it is. You have found a very appropriate
expression," said Lebedeff, politely, but with sarcasm.

"But what's to be done? It's a serious matter," said the prince,
thoughtfully. "Don't you think you may have dropped it out of
your pocket whilst intoxicated?"

"Certainly. Anything is possible when one is intoxicated, as you
neatly express it, prince. But consider--if I, intoxicated or
not, dropped an object out of my pocket on to the ground, that
object ought to remain on the ground. Where is the object, then?"

"Didn't you put it away in some drawer, perhaps?"

"I've looked everywhere, and turned out everything."

"I confess this disturbs me a good deal. Someone must have picked
it up, then."

"Or taken it out of my pocket--two alternatives."

"It is very distressing, because WHO--? That's the question!"

"Most undoubtedly, excellent prince, you have hit it--that is the
very question. How wonderfully you express the exact situation in
a few words!"

"Come, come, Lebedeff, no sarcasm! It's a serious--"

"Sarcasm!" cried Lebedeff, wringing his hands.
"All right, all right, I'm not angry. I'm only put out about
this. Whom do you suspect?"

"That is a very difficult and complicated question. I cannot
suspect the servant, for she was in the kitchen the whole
evening, nor do I suspect any of my children."

"I should think not. Go on."

"Then it must be one of the guests."

"Is such a thing possible?"

"Absolutely and utterly impossible--and yet, so it must be. But
one thing I am sure of, if it be a theft, it was committed, not
in the evening when we were all together, but either at night or
early in the morning; therefore, by one of those who slept here.
Burdovsky and Colia I except, of course. They did not even come
into my room."

"Yes, or even if they had! But who did sleep with you?" "Four of
us, including myself, in two rooms. The general, myself, Keller,
and Ferdishenko. One of us four it must have been. I don't
suspect myself, though such cases have been known."

"Oh! DO go on, Lebedeff! Don't drag it out so."

"Well, there are three left, then--Keller firstly. He is a
drunkard to begin with, and a liberal (in the sense of other
people's pockets), otherwise with more of the ancient knight
about him than of the modern liberal. He was with the sick man at
first, but came over afterwards because there was no place to lie
down in the room and the floor was so hard."

"You suspect him?"

"I DID suspect him. When I woke up at half-past seven and tore my
hair in despair for my loss and carelessness, I awoke the
general, who was sleeping the sleep of innocence near me. Taking
into consideration the sudden disappearance of Ferdishenko, which
was suspicious in itself, we decided to search Keller, who was
lying there sleeping like a top. Well, we searched his clothes
thoroughly, and not a farthing did we find; in fact, his pockets
all had holes in them. We found a dirty handkerchief, and a love-
letter from some scullery-maid. The general decided that he was
innocent. We awoke him for further inquiries, and had the
greatest difficulty in making him understand what was up. He
opened his mouth and stared--he looked so stupid and so absurdly
innocent. It wasn't Keller."

"Oh, I'm so glad!" said the prince, joyfully. "I was so afraid."

"Afraid! Then you had some grounds for supposing he might be the
culprit?" said Lebedeff, frowning.

"Oh no--not a bit! It was foolish of me to say I was afraid!
Don't repeat it please, Lebedeff, don't tell anyone I said that!"

"My dear prince! your words lie in the lowest depth of my heart--
it is their tomb!" said Lebedeff, solemnly, pressing his hat to
the region of his heart.

"Thanks; very well. Then I suppose it's Ferdishenko; that is, I
mean, you suspect Ferdishenko?"

"Whom else?" said Lebedeff, softly, gazing intently into the
prince s face.

"Of course--quite so, whom else? But what are the proofs?"

"We have evidence. In the first place, his mysterious
disappearance at seven o'clock, or even earlier."

"I know, Colia told me that he had said he was off to--I forget
the name, some friend of his, to finish the night."

"H'm! then Colia has spoken to you already?"

"Not about the theft."

"He does not know of it; I have kept it a secret. Very well,
Ferdishenko went off to Wilkin's. That is not so curious in
itself, but here the evidence opens out further. He left his
address, you see, when he went. Now prince, consider, why did he
leave his address? Why do you suppose he went out of his way to
tell Colia that he had gone to Wilkin's? Who cared to know that
he was going to Wilkin's? No, no! prince, this is finesse,
thieves' finesse! This is as good as saying, 'There, how can I be
a thief when I leave my address? I'm not concealing my movements
as a thief would.' Do you understand, prince?"

"Oh yes, but that is not enough."

"Second proof. The scent turns out to be false, and the address
given is a sham. An hour after--that is at about eight, I went to
Wilkin's myself, and there was no trace of Ferdishenko. The maid
did tell me, certainly, that an hour or so since someone had been
hammering at the door, and had smashed the bell; she said she
would not open the door because she didn't want to wake her
master; probably she was too lazy to get up herself. Such
phenomena are met with occasionally!"

"But is that all your evidence? It is not enough!"

"Well, prince, whom are we to suspect, then? Consider!" said
Lebedeff with almost servile amiability, smiling at the prince.
There was a look of cunning in his eyes, however.

"You should search your room and all the cupboards again," said
the prince, after a moment or two of silent reflection.

"But I have done so, my dear prince!" said Lebedeff, more sweetly
than ever.

"H'm! why must you needs go up and change your coat like that?"
asked the prince, banging the table with his fist, in annoyance.

"Oh, don't be so worried on my account, prince! I assure you I am
not worth it! At least, not I alone. But I see you are suffering
on behalf of the criminal too, for wretched Ferdishenko, in
fact!"

"Of course you have given me a disagreeable enough thing to think
about," said the prince, irritably, "but what are you going to
do, since you are so sure it was Ferdishenko?"

"But who else COULD it be, my very dear prince?" repeated
Lebedeff, as sweet as sugar again. "If you don't wish me to
suspect Mr. Burdovsky?"

"Of course not."

"Nor the general? Ha, ha, ha!"

"Nonsense!" said the prince, angrily, turning round upon him.

"Quite so, nonsense! Ha, ha, ha! dear me! He did amuse me, did
the general! We went off on the hot scent to Wilkin's together,
you know; but I must first observe that the general was even more
thunderstruck than I myself this morning, when I awoke him after
discovering the theft; so much so that his very face changed--he
grew red and then pale, and at length flew into a paroxysm of
such noble wrath that I assure you I was quite surprised! He is a
most generous-hearted man! He tells lies by the thousands, I
know, but it is merely a weakness; he is a man of the highest
feelings; a simple-minded man too, and a man who carries the
conviction of innocence in his very appearance. I love that man,
sir; I may have told you so before; it is a weakness of mine.
Well--he suddenly stopped in the middle of the road, opened out
his coat and bared his breast. "Search me," he says, "you
searched Keller; why don't you search me too? It is only fair!"
says he. And all the while his legs and hands were trembling with
anger, and he as white as a sheet all over! So I said to him,
"Nonsense, general; if anybody but yourself had said that to me,
I'd have taken my head, my own head, and put it on a large dish
and carried it round to anyone who suspected you; and I should
have said: 'There, you see that head? It's my head, and I'll go
bail with that head for him! Yes, and walk through the fire for
him, too. There,' says I, 'that's how I'd answer for you,
general!' Then he embraced me, in the middle of the street, and
hugged me so tight (crying over me all the while) that I coughed
fit to choke! 'You are the one friend left to me amid all my
misfortunes,' says he. Oh, he's a man of sentiment, that! He went
on to tell me a story of how he had been accused, or suspected,
of stealing five hundred thousand roubles once, as a young man;
and how, the very next day, he had rushed into a burning, blazing
house and saved the very count who suspected him, and Nina
Alexandrovna (who was then a young girl), from a fiery death. The
count embraced him, and that was how he came to marry Nina
Alexandrovna, he said. As for the money, it was found among the
ruins next day in an English iron box with a secret lock; it had
got under the floor somehow, and if it had not been for the fire
it would never have been found! The whole thing is, of course, an
absolute fabrication, though when he spoke of Nina Alexandrovna
he wept! She's a grand woman, is Nina Alexandrovna, though she is
very angry with me!"

"Are you acquainted with her?"

"Well, hardly at all. I wish I were, if only for the sake of
justifying myself in her eyes. Nina Alexandrovna has a grudge
against me for, as she thinks, encouraging her husband in
drinking; whereas in reality I not only do not encourage him, but
I actually keep him out of harm's way, and out of bad company.
Besides, he's my friend, prince, so that I shall not lose sight
of him, again. Where he goes, I go. He's quite given up visiting
the captain's widow, though sometimes he thinks sadly of her,
especially in the morning, when he's putting on his boots. I
don't know why it's at that time. But he has no money, and it's
no use his going to see her without. Has he borrowed any money
from you, prince?"

"No, he has not."

"Ah, he's ashamed to! He MEANT to ask you, I know, for he said
so. I suppose he thinks that as you gave him some once (you
remember), you would probably refuse if he asked you again."

"Do you ever give him money?"

"Prince! Money! Why I would give that man not only my money, but
my very life, if he wanted it. Well, perhaps that's exaggeration;
not life, we'll say, but some illness, a boil or a bad cough, or
anything of that sort, I would stand with pleasure, for his sake;
for I consider him a great man fallen--money, indeed!"

"H'm, then you DO give him money?"

"N-no, I have never given him money, and he knows well that I
will never give him any; because I am anxious to keep him out of
intemperate ways. He is going to town with me now; for you must
know I am off to Petersburg after Ferdishenko, while the scent is
hot; I'm certain he is there. I shall let the general go one way,
while I go the other; we have so arranged matters in order to pop
out upon Ferdishenko, you see, from different sides. But I am
going to follow that naughty old general and catch him, I know
where, at a certain widow's house; for I think it will be a good
lesson, to put him to shame by catching him with the widow."

"Oh, Lebedeff, don't, don't make any scandal about it!" said the
prince, much agitated, and speaking in a low voice.

"Not for the world, not for the world! I merely wish to make him
ashamed of himself. Oh, prince, great though this misfortune be
to myself, I cannot help thinking of his morals! I have a great
favour to ask of you, esteemed prince; I confess that it is the
chief object of my visit. You know the Ivolgins, you have even
lived in their house; so if you would lend me your help, honoured
prince, in the general's own interest and for his good."

Lebedeff clasped his hands in supplication.

"What help do you want from me? You may be certain that I am most
anxious to understand you, Lebedeff."

"I felt sure of that, or I should not have come to you. We might
manage it with the help of Nina Alexandrovna, so that he might be
closely watched in his own house. Unfortunately I am not on
terms ... otherwise ... but Nicolai Ardalionovitch, who
adores you with all his youthful soul, might help, too."

"No, no! Heaven forbid that we should bring Nina Alexandrovna
into this business! Or Colia, either. But perhaps I have not yet
quite understood you, Lebedeff?"

Lebedeff made an impatient movement.

"But there is nothing to understand! Sympathy and tenderness,
that is all--that is all our poor invalid requires! You will
permit me to consider him an invalid?"

"Yes, it shows delicacy and intelligence on your part."

"I will explain my idea by a practical example, to make it
clearer. You know the sort of man he is. At present his only
failing is that he is crazy about that captain's widow, and he
cannot go to her without money, and I mean to catch him at her
house today--for his own good; but supposing it was not only the
widow, but that he had committed a real crime, or at least some
very dishonourable action (of which he is, of course, incapable),
I repeat that even in that case, if he were treated with what I
may call generous tenderness, one could get at the whole truth,
for he is very soft-hearted! Believe me, he would betray himself
before five days were out; he would burst into tears, and make a
clean breast of the matter; especially if managed with tact, and
if you and his family watched his every step, so to speak. Oh, my
dear prince," Lebedeff added most emphatically, "I do not
positively assert that he has ... I am ready, as the saying is,
to shed my last drop of blood for him this instant; but you will
admit that debauchery, drunkenness, and the captain's widow, all
these together may lead him very far."

"I am, of course, quite ready to add my efforts to yours in such
a case," said the prince, rising; "but I confess, Lebedeff, that
I am terribly perplexed. Tell me, do you still think ...
plainly, you say yourself that you suspect Mr. Ferdishenko?"

Lebedeff clasped his hands once more.

"Why, who else could I possibly suspect? Who else, most outspoken
prince?" he replied, with an unctuous smile.

Muishkin frowned, and rose from his seat.

"You see, Lebedeff, a mistake here would be a dreadful thing.
This Ferdishenko, I would not say a word against him, of course;
but, who knows? Perhaps it really was he? I mean he really does
seem to be a more likely man than... than any other."

Lebedeff strained his eyes and ears to take in what the prince
was saying. The latter was frowning more and more, and walking
excitedly up and down, trying not to look at Lebedeff.

"You see," he said, "I was given to understand that Ferdishenko
was that sort of man,--that one can't say everything before him.
One has to take care not to say too much, you understand? I say
this to prove that he really is, so to speak, more likely to have
done this than anyone else, eh? You understand? The important
thing is, not to make a mistake."

"And who told you this about Ferdishenko?"

"Oh, I was told. Of course I don't altogether believe it. I am
very sorry that I should have had to say this, because I assure
you I don't believe it myself; it is all nonsense, of course. It
was stupid of me to say anything about it."

"You see, it is very important, it is most important to know
where you got this report from," said Lebedeff, excitedly. He had
risen from his seat, and was trying to keep step with the prince,
running after him, up and down. "Because look here, prince, I
don't mind telling you now that as we were going along to
Wilkin's this morning, after telling me what you know about the
fire, and saving the count and all that, the general was pleased
to drop certain hints to the same effect about Ferdishenko, but
so vaguely and clumsily that I thought better to put a few
questions to him on the matter, with the result that I found the
whole thing was an invention of his excellency's own mind. Of
course, he only lies with the best intentions; still, he lies.
But, such being the case, where could you have heard the same
report? It was the inspiration of the moment with him, you
understand, so who could have told YOU? It is an important
question, you see!"

"It was Colia told me, and his father told HIM at about six this
morning. They met at the threshold, when Colia was leaving the
room for something or other." The prince told Lebedeff all that
Colia had made known to himself, in detail.

"There now, that's what we may call SCENT!" said Lebedeff,
rubbing his hands and laughing silently. "I thought it must be
so, you see. The general interrupted his innocent slumbers, at
six o'clock, in order to go and wake his beloved son, and warn
him of the dreadful danger of companionship with Ferdishenko.
Dear me! what a dreadfully dangerous man Ferdishenko must be, and
what touching paternal solicitude, on the part of his
excellency, ha! ha! ha!"

"Listen, Lebedeff," began the prince, quite overwhelmed; "DO act
quietly--don't make a scandal, Lebedeff, I ask you--I entreat
you! No one must know--NO ONE, mind! In that case only, I will
help you."

"Be assured, most honourable, most worthy of princes--be assured
that the whole matter shall be buried within my heart!" cried
Lebedeff, in a paroxysm of exaltation. "I'd give every drop of my
blood... Illustrious prince, I am a poor wretch in soul and
spirit, but ask the veriest scoundrel whether he would prefer to
deal with one like himself, or with a noble-hearted man like you,
and there is no doubt as to his choice! He'll answer that he
prefers the noble-hearted man--and there you have the triumph of
virtue! Au revoir, honoured prince! You and I together--softly!
softly!"