THE occurrence at the Vauxhall had filled both mother and daughters with something like horror. In their excitement Lizabetha Prokofievna and the girls were nearly running all the way home.
In her opinion there was so much disclosed and laid bare by the episode, that, in spite of the chaotic condition of her mind, she was able to feel more or less decided on certain points which, up to now, had been in a cloudy condition.
However, one and all of the party realized that something important had happened, and that, perhaps fortunately enough, something which had hitherto been enveloped in the obscurity of guess-work had now begun to come forth a little from the mists. In spite of Prince S.'s assurances and explanations, Evgenie Pavlovitch's real character and position were at last coming to light. He was publicly convicted of intimacy with "that creature." So thought Lizabetha Prokofievna and her two elder daughters.
But the real upshot of the business was that the number of riddles to be solved was augmented. The two girls, though rather irritated at their mother's exaggerated alarm and haste to depart from the scene, had been unwilling to worry her at first with questions.
Besides, they could not help thinking that their sister Aglaya probably knew more about the whole matter than both they and their mother put together.
Prince S. looked as black as night, and was silent and moody. Mrs. Epanchin did not say a word to him all the way home, and he did not seem to observe the fact. Adelaida tried to pump him a little by asking, "who was the uncle they were talking about, and what was it that had happened in Petersburg?" But he had merely muttered something disconnected about "making inquiries," and that "of course it was all nonsense." "Oh, of course," replied Adelaida, and asked no more questions. Aglaya, too, was very quiet; and the only remark she made on the way home was that they were "walking much too fast to be pleasant."
Once she turned and observed the prince hurrying after them. Noticing his anxiety to catch them up, she smiled ironically, and then looked back no more. At length, just as they neared the house, General Epanchin came out and met them; he had only just arrived from town.
His first word was to inquire after Evgenie Pavlovitch. But Lizabetha stalked past him, and neither looked at him nor answered his question.
He immediately judged from the faces of his daughters and Prince S. that there was a thunderstorm brewing, and he himself already bore evidences of unusual perturbation of mind.
He immediately button-holed Prince S., and standing at the front door, engaged in a whispered conversation with him. By the troubled aspect of both of them, when they entered the house, and approached Mrs. Epanchin, it was evident that they had been discussing very disturbing news.
Little by little the family gathered together upstairs in Lizabetha Prokofievna's apartments, and Prince Muishkin found himself alone on the verandah when he arrived. He settled himself in a corner and sat waiting, though he knew not what he expected. It never struck him that he had better go away, with all this disturbance in the house. He seemed to have forgotten all the world, and to be ready to sit on where he was for years on end. From upstairs he caught sounds of excited conversation every now and then.
He could not say how long he sat there. It grew late and became quite dark.
Suddenly Aglaya entered the verandah. She seemed to be quite calm, though a little pale.
Observing the prince, whom she evidently did not expect to see there, alone in the corner, she smiled, and approached him:
"What are you doing there?" she asked.
The prince muttered something, blushed, and jumped up; but Aglaya immediately sat down beside him; so he reseated himself.
She looked suddenly, but attentively into his face, then at the window, as though thinking of something else, and then again at him.
"Perhaps she wants to laugh at me," thought the prince, "but no; for if she did she certainly would do so."
"Would you like some tea? I'll order some," she said, after a minute or two of silence.
"N-no thanks, I don't know--"
"Don't know! How can you not know? By-the-by, look here--if someone were to challenge you to a duel, what should you do? I wished to ask you this--some time ago--"
"Why? Nobody would ever challenge me to a duel!"
"But if they were to, would you be dreadfully frightened?"
"I dare say I should be--much alarmed!"
"Seriously? Then are you a coward?"
"N-no!--I don't think so. A coward is a man who is afraid and runs away; the man who is frightened but does not run away, is not quite a coward," said the prince with a smile, after a moment's thought.
"And you wouldn't run away?"
"No--I don't think I should run away," replied the prince, laughing outright at last at Aglaya's questions.
"Though I am a woman, I should certainly not run away for anything," said Aglaya, in a slightly pained voice. "However, I see you are laughing at me and twisting your face up as usual in order to make yourself look more interesting. Now tell me, they generally shoot at twenty paces, don't they? At ten, sometimes? I suppose if at ten they must be either wounded or killed, mustn't they?"
"I don't think they often kill each other at duels."
"They killed Pushkin that way."
"That may have been an accident."
"Not a bit of it; it was a duel to the death, and he was killed."
"The bullet struck so low down that probably his antagonist would never have aimed at that part of him--people never do; he would have aimed at his chest or head; so that probably the bullet hit him accidentally. I have been told this by competent authorities."
"Well, a soldier once told me that they were always ordered to aim at the middle of the body. So you see they don't aim at the chest or head; they aim lower on purpose. I asked some officer about this afterwards, and he said it was perfectly true."
"That is probably when they fire from a long distance."
"Can you shoot at all?"
"No, I have never shot in my life."
"Can't you even load a pistol?"
"No! That is, I understand how it's done, of course, but I have never done it."
"Then, you don't know how, for it is a matter that needs practice. Now listen and learn; in the first place buy good powder, not damp (they say it mustn't be at all damp, but very dry), some fine kind it is--you must ask for PISTOL powder, not the stuff they load cannons with. They say one makes the bullets oneself, somehow or other. Have you got a pistol?"
"No--and I don't want one," said the prince, laughing.
"Oh, what NONSENSE! You must buy one. French or English are the best, they say. Then take a little powder, about a thimbleful, or perhaps two, and pour it into the barrel. Better put plenty. Then push in a bit of felt (it MUST be felt, for some reason or other); you can easily get a bit off some old mattress, or off a door; it's used to keep the cold out. Well, when you have pushed the felt down, put the bullet in; do you hear now? The bullet last and the powder first, not the other way, or the pistol won't shoot. What are you laughing at? I wish you to buy a pistol and practise every day, and you must learn to hit a mark for CERTAIN; will you?"
The prince only laughed. Aglaya stamped her foot with annoyance.
Her serious air, however, during this conversation had surprised him considerably. He had a feeling that he ought to be asking her something, that there was something he wanted to find out far more important than how to load a pistol; but his thoughts had all scattered, and he was only aware that she was sitting by, him, and talking to him, and that he was looking at her; as to what she happened to be saying to him, that did not matter in the least.
The general now appeared on the verandah, coming from upstairs. He was on his way out, with an expression of determination on his face, and of preoccupation and worry also.
"Ah! Lef Nicolaievitch, it's you, is it? Where are you off to now?" he asked, oblivious of the fact that the prince had not showed the least sign of moving. "Come along with me; I want to say a word or two to you."
"Au revoir, then!" said Aglaya, holding out her hand to the prince.
It was quite dark now, and Muishkin could not see her face clearly, but a minute or two later, when he and the general had left the villa, he suddenly flushed up, and squeezed his right hand tightly.
It appeared that he and the general were going in the same direction. In spite of the lateness of the hour, the general was hurrying away to talk to someone upon some important subject. Meanwhile he talked incessantly but disconnectedly to the prince, and continually brought in the name of Lizabetha Prokofievna.
If the prince had been in a condition to pay more attention to what the general was saying, he would have discovered that the latter was desirous of drawing some information out of him, or indeed of asking him some question outright; but that he could not make up his mind to come to the point.
Muishkin was so absent, that from the very first he could not attend to a word the other was saying; and when the general suddenly stopped before him with some excited question, he was obliged to confess, ignominiously, that he did not know in the least what he had been talking about.
The general shrugged his shoulders.
"How strange everyone, yourself included, has become of late," said he. "I was telling you that I cannot in the least understand Lizabetha Prokofievna's ideas and agitations. She is in hysterics up there, and moans and says that we have been 'shamed and disgraced.' How? Why? When? By whom? I confess that I am very much to blame myself; I do not conceal the fact; but the conduct, the outrageous behaviour of this woman, must really be kept within limits, by the police if necessary, and I am just on my way now to talk the question over and make some arrangements. It can all be managed quietly and gently, even kindly, and without the slightest fuss or scandal. I foresee that the future is pregnant with events, and that there is much that needs explanation. There is intrigue in the wind; but if on one side nothing is known, on the other side nothing will be explained. If I have heard nothing about it, nor have YOU, nor HE, nor SHE-- who HAS heard about it, I should like to know? How CAN all this be explained except by the fact that half of it is mirage or moonshine, or some hallucination of that sort?"
"SHE is insane," muttered the prince, suddenly recollecting all that had passed, with a spasm of pain at his heart.
"I too had that idea, and I slept in peace. But now I see that their opinion is more correct. I do not believe in the theory of madness! The woman has no common sense; but she is not only not insane, she is artful to a degree. Her outburst of this evening about Evgenie's uncle proves that conclusively. It was VILLAINOUS, simply jesuitical, and it was all for some special purpose."
"What about Evgenie's uncle?"
"My goodness, Lef Nicolaievitch, why, you can't have heard a single word I said! Look at me, I'm still trembling all over with the dreadful shock! It is that that kept me in town so late. Evgenie Pavlovitch's uncle--"
Well?" cried the prince.
"Shot himself this morning, at seven o'clock. A respected, eminent old man of seventy; and exactly point for point as she described it; a sum of money, a considerable sum of government money, missing!"
"Why, how could she--"
"What, know of it? Ha, ha, ha! Why, there was a whole crowd round her the moment she appeared on the scenes here. You know what sort of people surround her nowadays, and solicit the honour of her 'acquaintance.' Of course she might easily have heard the news from someone coming from town. All Petersburg, if not all Pavlofsk, knows it by now. Look at the slyness of her observation about Evgenie's uniform! I mean, her remark that he had retired just in time! There's a venomous hint for you, if you like! No, no! there's no insanity there! Of course I refuse to believe that Evgenie Pavlovitch could have known beforehand of the catastrophe; that is, that at such and such a day at seven o'clock, and all that; but he might well have had a presentiment of the truth. And I--all of us--Prince S. and everybody, believed that he was to inherit a large fortune from this uncle. It's dreadful, horrible! Mind, I don't suspect Evgenie of anything, be quite clear on that point; but the thing is a little suspicious, nevertheless. Prince S. can't get over it. Altogether it is a very extraordinary combination of circumstances."
"What suspicion attaches to Evgenie Pavlovitch?"
"Oh, none at all! He has behaved very well indeed. I didn't mean to drop any sort of hint. His own fortune is intact, I believe. Lizabetha Prokofievna, of course, refuses to listen to anything. That's the worst of it all, these family catastrophes or quarrels, or whatever you like to call them. You know, prince, you are a friend of the family, so I don't mind telling you; it now appears that Evgenie Pavlovitch proposed to Aglaya a month ago, and was refused."
"Impossible!" cried the prince.
"Why? Do you know anything about it? Look here," continued the general, more agitated than ever, and trembling with excitement, "maybe I have been letting the cat out of the bag too freely with you, if so, it is because you are--that sort of man, you know! Perhaps you have some special information?"
"I know nothing about Evgenie Pavlovitch!" said the prince.
"Nor do I! They always try to bury me underground when there's anything going on; they don't seem to reflect that it is unpleasant to a man to be treated so! I won't stand it! We have just had a terrible scene!--mind, I speak to you as I would to my own son! Aglaya laughs at her mother. Her sisters guessed about Evgenie having proposed and been rejected, and told Lizabetha.
"I tell you, my dear fellow, Aglaya is such an extraordinary, such a self-willed, fantastical little creature, you wouldn't believe it! Every high quality, every brilliant trait of heart and mind, are to be found in her, and, with it all, so much caprice and mockery, such wild fancies--indeed, a little devil! She has just been laughing at her mother to her very face, and at her sisters, and at Prince S., and everybody--and of course she always laughs at me! You know I love the child--I love her even when she laughs at me, and I believe the wild little creature has a special fondness for me for that very reason. She is fonder of me than any of the others. I dare swear she has had a good laugh at YOU before now! You were having a quiet talk just now, I observed, after all the thunder and lightning upstairs. She was sitting with you just as though there had been no row at all."
The prince blushed painfully in the darkness, and closed his right hand tightly, but he said nothing.
"My dear good Prince Lef Nicolaievitch," began the general again, suddenly, "both I and Lizabetha Prokofievna--(who has begun to respect you once more, and me through you, goodness knows why!)-- we both love you very sincerely, and esteem you, in spite of any appearances to the contrary. But you'll admit what a riddle it must have been for us when that calm, cold, little spitfire, Aglaya--(for she stood up to her mother and answered her questions with inexpressible contempt, and mine still more so, because, like a fool, I thought it my duty to assert myself as head of the family)--when Aglaya stood up of a sudden and informed us that 'that madwoman' (strangely enough, she used exactly the same expression as you did) 'has taken it into her head to marry me to Prince Lef Nicolaievitch, and therefore is doing her best to choke Evgenie Pavlovitch off, and rid the house of him.' That's what she said. She would not give the slightest explanation; she burst out laughing, banged the door, and went away. We all stood there with our mouths open. Well, I was told afterwards of your little passage with Aglaya this afternoon, and-and--dear prince--you are a good, sensible fellow, don't be angry if I speak out--she is laughing at you, my boy! She is enjoying herself like a child, at your expense, and therefore, since she is a child, don't be angry with her, and don't think anything of it. I assure you, she is simply making a fool of you, just as she does with one and all of us out of pure lack of something better to do. Well--good-bye! You know our feelings, don't you--our sincere feelings for yourself? They are unalterable, you know, dear boy, under all circumstances, but-- Well, here we part; I must go down to the right. Rarely have I sat so uncomfortably in my saddle, as they say, as I now sit. And people talk of the charms of a country holiday!"
Left to himself at the cross-roads, the prince glanced around him, quickly crossed the road towards the lighted window of a neighbouring house, and unfolded a tiny scrap of paper which he had held clasped in his right hand during the whole of his conversation with the general.
He read the note in the uncertain rays that fell from the window. It was as follows:
"Tomorrow morning, I shall be at the green bench in the park at seven, and shall wait there for you. I have made up my mind to speak to you about a most important matter which closely concerns yourself.
"P.S.--I trust that you will not show this note to anyone. Though I am ashamed of giving you such instructions, I feel that I must do so, considering what you are. I therefore write the words, and blush for your simple character.
"P.P.S.--It is the same green bench that I showed you before. There! aren't you ashamed of yourself? I felt that it was necessary to repeat even that information."
The note was written and folded anyhow, evidently in a great hurry, and probably just before Aglaya had come down to the verandah.
In inexpressible agitation, amounting almost to fear, the prince slipped quickly away from the window, away from the light, like a frightened thief, but as he did so he collided violently with some gentleman who seemed to spring from the earth at his feet.
"I was watching for you, prince," said the individual.
"Is that you, Keller?" said the prince, in surprise.
"Yes, I've been looking for you. I waited for you at the Epanchins' house, but of course I could not come in. I dogged you from behind as you walked along with the general. Well, prince, here is Keller, absolutely at your service--command him!--ready to sacrifice himself--even to die in case of need."
"But-why?"
"Oh, why?--Of course you'll be challenged! That was young Lieutenant Moloftsoff. I know him, or rather of him; he won't pass an insult. He will take no notice of Rogojin and myself, and, therefore, you are the only one left to account for. You'll have to pay the piper, prince. He has been asking about you, and undoubtedly his friend will call on you tomorrow--perhaps he is at your house already. If you would do me the honour to have me for a second, prince, I should be happy. That's why I have been looking for you now."
"Yes, and he gave me a fearful dig in the chest," cried the prince, still laughing. "What are we to fight about? I shall beg his pardon, that's all. But if we must fight--we'll fight! Let him have a shot at me, by all means; I should rather like it. Ha, ha, ha! I know how to load a pistol now; do you know how to load a pistol, Keller? First, you have to buy the powder, you know; it mustn't be wet, and it mustn't be that coarse stuff that they load cannons with--it must be pistol powder. Then you pour the powder in, and get hold of a bit of felt from some door, and then shove the bullet in. But don't shove the bullet in before the powder, because the thing wouldn't go off--do you hear, Keller, the thing wouldn't go off! Ha, ha, ha! Isn't that a grand reason, Keller, my friend, eh? Do you know, my dear fellow, I really must kiss you, and embrace you, this very moment. Ha, ha! How was it you so suddenly popped up in front of me as you did? Come to my house as soon as you can, and we'll have some champagne. We'll all get drunk! Do you know I have a dozen of champagne in Lebedeff's cellar? Lebedeff sold them to me the day after I arrived. I took the lot. We'll invite everybody! Are you going to do any sleeping tonight?"
"As much as usual, prince--why?"
"Pleasant dreams then--ha, ha!"
The prince crossed the road, and disappeared into the park, leaving the astonished Keller in a state of ludicrous wonder. He had never before seen the prince in such a strange condition of mind, and could not have imagined the possibility of it.
"Fever, probably," he said to himself, "for the man is all nerves, and this business has been a little too much for him. He is not AFRAID, that's clear; that sort never funks! H'm! champagne! That was an interesting item of news, at all events!-- Twelve bottles! Dear me, that's a very respectable little stock indeed! I bet anything Lebedeff lent somebody money on deposit of this dozen of champagne. Hum! he's a nice fellow, is this prince! I like this sort of man. Well, I needn't be wasting time here, and if it's a case of champagne, why--there's no time like the present!"
That the prince was almost in a fever was no more than the truth. He wandered about the park for a long while, and at last came to himself in a lonely avenue. He was vaguely conscious that he had already paced this particular walk--from that large, dark tree to the bench at the other end--about a hundred yards altogether--at least thirty times backwards and forwards.
As to recollecting what he had been thinking of all that time, he could not. He caught himself, however, indulging in one thought which made him roar with laughter, though there was nothing really to laugh at in it; but he felt that he must laugh, and go on laughing.
It struck him that the idea of the duel might not have occurred to Keller alone, but that his lesson in the art of pistol-loading might have been not altogether accidental! "Pooh! nonsense!" he said to himself, struck by another thought, of a sudden. "Why, she was immensely surprised to find me there on the verandah, and laughed and talked about TEA! And yet she had this little note in her hand, therefore she must have known that I was sitting there. So why was she surprised? Ha, ha, ha!"
He pulled the note out and kissed it; then paused and reflected. "How strange it all is! how strange!" he muttered, melancholy enough now. In moments of great joy, he invariably felt a sensation of melancholy come over him--he could not tell why.
He looked intently around him, and wondered why he had come here; he was very tired, so he approached the bench and sat down on it. Around him was profound silence; the music in the Vauxhall was over. The park seemed quite empty, though it was not, in reality, later than half-past eleven. It was a quiet, warm, clear night--a real Petersburg night of early June; but in the dense avenue, where he was sitting, it was almost pitch dark.
If anyone had come up at this moment and told him that he was in love, passionately in love, he would have rejected the idea with astonishment, and, perhaps, with irritation. And if anyone had added that Aglaya's note was a love-letter, and that it contained an appointment to a lover's rendezvous, he would have blushed with shame for the speaker, and, probably, have challenged him to a duel.
All this would have been perfectly sincere on his part. He had never for a moment entertained the idea of the possibility of this girl loving him, or even of such a thing as himself falling in love with her. The possibility of being loved himself, "a man like me," as he put it, he ranked among ridiculous suppositions. It appeared to him that it was simply a joke on Aglaya's part, if there really were anything in it at all; but that seemed to him quite natural. His preoccupation was caused by something different.
As to the few words which the general had let slip about Aglaya laughing at everybody, and at himself most of all--he entirely believed them. He did not feel the slightest sensation of offence; on the contrary, he was quite certain that it was as it should be.
His whole thoughts were now as to next morning early; he would see her; he would sit by her on that little green bench, and listen to how pistols were loaded, and look at her. He wanted nothing more.
The question as to what she might have to say of special interest to himself occurred to him once or twice. He did not doubt, for a moment, that she really had some such subject of conversation in store, but so very little interested in the matter was he that it did not strike him to wonder what it could be. The crunch of gravel on the path suddenly caused him to raise his head.
A man, whose face it was difficult to see in the gloom, approached the bench, and sat down beside him. The prince peered into his face, and recognized the livid features of Rogojin.
"I knew you'd be wandering about somewhere here. I didn't have to look for you very long," muttered the latter between his teeth.
It was the first time they had met since the encounter on the staircase at the hotel.
Painfully surprised as he was at this sudden apparition of Rogojin, the prince, for some little while, was unable to collect his thoughts. Rogojin, evidently, saw and understood the impression he had made; and though he seemed more or less confused at first, yet he began talking with what looked like assumed ease and freedom. However, the prince soon changed his mind on this score, and thought that there was not only no affectation of indifference, but that Rogojin was not even particularly agitated. If there were a little apparent awkwardness, it was only in his words and gestures. The man could not change his heart.
"How did you--find me here?" asked the prince for the sake of saying something.
"Keller told me (I found him at your place) that you were in the park. 'Of course he is!' I thought."
"Why so?" asked the prince uneasily.
Rogojin smiled, but did not explain.
"I received your letter, Lef Nicolaievitch--what's the good of all that?--It's no use, you know. I've come to you from HER,--she bade me tell you that she must see you, she has something to say to you. She told me to find you today."
"I'll come tomorrow. Now I'm going home--are you coming to my house?"
"Why should I? I've given you the message.--Goodbye!"
"Won't you come?" asked the prince in a gentle voice.
"What an extraordinary man you are! I wonder at you!" Rogojin laughed sarcastically.
"Why do you hate me so?" asked the prince, sadly. "You know yourself that all you suspected is quite unfounded. I felt you were still angry with me, though. Do you know why? Because you tried to kill me--that's why you can't shake off your wrath against me. I tell you that I only remember the Parfen Rogojin with whom I exchanged crosses, and vowed brotherhood. I wrote you this in yesterday's letter, in order that you might forget all that madness on your part, and that you might not feel called to talk about it when we met. Why do you avoid me? Why do you hold your hand back from me? I tell you again, I consider all that has passed a delirium, an insane dream. I can understand all you did, and all you felt that day, as if it were myself. What you were then imagining was not the case, and could never be the case. Why, then, should there be anger between us?"
"You don't know what anger is!" laughed Rogojin, in reply to the prince's heated words.
He had moved a pace or two away, and was hiding his hands behind him.
"No, it is impossible for me to come to your house again," he added slowly.
"Why? Do you hate me so much as all that?"
"I don't love you, Lef Nicolaievitch, and, therefore, what would be the use of my coming to see you? You are just like a child-- you want a plaything, and it must be taken out and given you--and then you don't know how to work it. You are simply repeating all you said in your letter, and what's the use? Of course I believe every word you say, and I know perfectly well that you neither did or ever can deceive me in any way, and yet, I don't love you. You write that you've forgotten everything, and only remember your brother Parfen, with whom you exchanged crosses, and that you don't remember anything about the Rogojin who aimed a knife at your throat. What do you know about my feelings, eh?" (Rogojin laughed disagreeably.) "Here you are holding out your brotherly forgiveness to me for a thing that I have perhaps never repented of in the slightest degree. I did not think of it again all that evening; all my thoughts were centred on something else--"
"Not think of it again? Of course you didn't!" cried the prince. "And I dare swear that you came straight away down here to Pavlofsk to listen to the music and dog her about in the crowd, and stare at her, just as you did today. There's nothing surprising in that! If you hadn't been in that condition of mind that you could think of nothing but one subject, you would, probably, never have raised your knife against me. I had a presentiment of what you would do, that day, ever since I saw you first in the morning. Do you know yourself what you looked like? I knew you would try to murder me even at the very moment when we exchanged crosses. What did you take me to your mother for? Did you think to stay your hand by doing so? Perhaps you did not put your thoughts into words, but you and I were thinking the same thing, or feeling the same thing looming over us, at the same moment. What should you think of me now if you had not raised your knife to me--the knife which God averted from my throat? I would have been guilty of suspecting you all the same--and you would have intended the murder all the same; therefore we should have been mutually guilty in any case. Come, don't frown; you needn't laugh at me, either. You say you haven't 'repented.' Repented! You probably couldn't, if you were to try; you dislike me too much for that. Why, if I were an angel of light, and as innocent before you as a babe, you would still loathe me if you believed that SHE loved me, instead of loving yourself. That's jealousy--that is the real jealousy.
"But do you know what I have been thinking out during this last week, Parfen? I'll tell you. What if she loves you now better than anyone? And what if she torments you BECAUSE she loves you, and in proportion to her love for you, so she torments you the more? She won't tell you this, of course; you must have eyes to see. Why do you suppose she consents to marry you? She must have a reason, and that reason she will tell you some day. Some women desire the kind of love you give her, and she is probably one of these. Your love and your wild nature impress her. Do you know that a woman is capable of driving a man crazy almost, with her cruelties and mockeries, and feels not one single pang of regret, because she looks at him and says to herself, 'There! I'll torment this man nearly into his grave, and then, oh! how I'll compensate him for it all with my love!'"
Rogojin listened to the end, and then burst out laughing:
"Why, prince, I declare you must have had a taste of this sort of thing yourself--haven't you? I have heard tell of something of the kind, you know; is it true?"
"What? What can you have heard?" said the prince, stammering.
Rogojin continued to laugh loudly. He had listened to the prince's speech with curiosity and some satisfaction. The speaker's impulsive warmth had surprised and even comforted him.
"Why, I've not only heard of it; I see it for myself," he said. "When have you ever spoken like that before? It wasn't like yourself, prince. Why, if I hadn't heard this report about you, I should never have come all this way into the park--at midnight, too!"
"I don't understand you in the least, Parfen."
"Oh, SHE told me all about it long ago, and tonight I saw for myself. I saw you at the music, you know, and whom you were sitting with. She swore to me yesterday, and again today, that you are madly in love with Aglaya Ivanovna. But that's all the same to me, prince, and it's not my affair at all; for if you have ceased to love HER, SHE has not ceased to love YOU. You know, of course, that she wants to marry you to that girl? She's sworn to it! Ha, ha! She says to me, 'Until then I won't marry you. When they go to church, we'll go too-and not before.' What on earth does she mean by it? I don't know, and I never did. Either she loves you without limits or--yet, if she loves you, why does she wish to marry you to another girl? She says, 'I want to see him happy,' which is to say--she loves you."
"I wrote, and I say to you once more, that she is not in her right mind," said the prince, who had listened with anguish to what Rogojin said.
"Goodness knows--you may be wrong there! At all events, she named the day this evening, as we left the gardens. 'In three weeks,' says she, 'and perhaps sooner, we shall be married.' She swore to it, took off her cross and kissed it. So it all depends upon you now, prince, You see! Ha, ha!"
"That's all madness. What you say about me, Parfen, never can and never will be. Tomorrow, I shall come and see you--"
"How can she be mad," Rogojin interrupted, "when she is sane enough for other people and only mad for you? How can she write letters to HER, if she's mad? If she were insane they would observe it in her letters."
"What letters?" said the prince, alarmed.
"She writes to HER--and the girl reads the letters. Haven't you heard?--You are sure to hear; she's sure to show you the letters herself."
"I won't believe this!" cried the prince.
"Why, prince, you've only gone a few steps along this road, I perceive. You are evidently a mere beginner. Wait a bit! Before long, you'll have your own detectives, you'll watch day and night, and you'll know every little thing that goes on there-- that is, if--"
"Drop that subject, Rogojin, and never mention it again. And listen: as I have sat here, and talked, and listened, it has suddenly struck me that tomorrow is my birthday. It must be about twelve o'clock, now; come home with me--do, and we'll see the day in! We'll have some wine, and you shall wish me--I don't know what--but you, especially you, must wish me a good wish, and I shall wish you full happiness in return. Otherwise, hand me my cross back again. You didn't return it to me next day. Haven't you got it on now?"
"Yes, I have," said Rogojin.
"Come along, then. I don't wish to meet my new year without you-- my new life, I should say, for a new life is beginning for me. Did you know, Parfen, that a new life had begun for me?"
"I see for myself that it is so--and I shall tell HER. But you are not quite yourself, Lef Nicolaievitch."
最后，几乎就在别墅面前，刚从彼得堡回来的伊万·费奥多罗维奇正迎着她们走来。他第一句话就打听叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇。但是将军夫人既不答话也不朝他看一眼便威严地打他身边走了过去。从女儿们和ω公爵的目光中他马上就猜到，家中即将有一场暴风雨。但是他自己的脸上本来就流露出异乎寻常的不安。他立即就挽起ω公爵的手臂，在家门口停住脚，几率是耳语一般跟他交谈了几句话。后来他们走上了露台，向叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜走去，从他们两人忧虑不安的样子可以想到，他们俩听说了什么非同一般的消息。渐渐地大家都聚集在楼上叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜那里，最后在露台上只剩下了公爵一个人。他坐在角落里，仿佛在期待什么似的，不过他自己也不知道为什么留在这里；看到这一家人惊惶慌乱的样子，他想都没想过要离去；似乎他忘了整个宇宙，无论把他安顿在哪儿坐，他都准备连着坐上哪怕两年也成。有时他听到从上面传来的忐忑不安的谈话声。他自己也说不上在那儿坐了多久。已经很晚了，完全天黑了，阿格拉娅突然走到露台上来；看样子她安静，虽然略显苍白。显然她没有料到会在这儿遇见坐在角落里椅子上的公爵。看见他后，阿格拉娅似乎困惑地怅然一笑。
“您在这里做什么？”她走到他跟前说。
公爵很窘，从椅上跳起身，喃喃着什么；但阿格拉娅立刻就坐到他身边，他才又坐下。突然她凝神审视着他，接着又看了一眼窗外，仿佛无所用心，然后又望着他。“也许，她想笑出来，”公爵思忖着，“但不是这样，她不是那时就笑了吗？”
“也许，您想喝点茶，我就吩咐，”在沉默片刻后她说。
“不--用……我不知道……”
“得了，怎么连这也不知道！啊，对了，您听好：假如有人向您提出决斗，您会怎么做？这是刚才我就想问了。”
“可是……什么人会……谁也没有向我提出决斗。”
“喏，假如提出呢？您会很惧怕吗？”
“我想，我是会……很害怕的。”
“真的吗？这么说您是胆小鬼。”
“不－－，也许不是。那种害怕并逃跑的人才是胆小鬼；而害怕但并不逃跑的人还不是胆小鬼，”公爵想了一下说。
“那么您不会逃走喏？”
“也许我不会逃走，”终于他笑着回答阿格拉娅的问题。
“我虽然是个女子，但无论如何不会逃跑，”她几乎是受了委屈似地说，“不过，您是在笑话我，并且按照您平常的习惯在装聋作哑，以便为自己增添更多的兴趣；请告诉我：一般是相距１２步开枪吗？有的甚至是１０步，因而。这一定会打死或打伤人？”
“决斗时大概很少打中人。”
“怎么会少？普希金就是被打死的。”
“这也许是偶然的。”
“根本不是偶然的；那是一场生死决斗，他就被打死了。”
“子弹打中的部位很低，可以肯定，丹特士瞄淮的部位要高些，是胸部或头部；而像子弹打中的部位，谁也不会瞄准的，因此，多半是偶然打中了普希金，是失手。这是内行的人告诉我的。”
“我有一次跟一个士兵聊天，他告诉我，按照操典规定，他们分散射击时，特意规定要瞄准半身腰，他们是这么说的：‘半身腰’，因此，这就已经不是瞄准胸部和头部了，而是特意规定朝半身腰开枪的。我后来又问过一个军官，他说，确实是这样的。”
“这是对的，因为是从远处射击。”
“您会开枪吗？”
“我从来也没有开过枪。”
“难道连装手枪子弹都不会？”
“不会。也就是说，我知道该怎么做，但我自己从来没有装过。”
“噢，是这样，这就是说您不会，因为这是需要实践的！您听着并记注：第一，买一些好的手枪火药，不要湿的（据说，一定不能要湿的，而要很干燥的），要一种细的，您一定要这一种，不要大炮里用的那种。据说，自己也能浇铸子弹。您有手枪吗？”
“没有，也不需要，”公爵突然笑了起来。
“啊，尽是胡说！一定得买，要好的，法国的或是英国的，据说，是最好的。然后您就拿顶针那么木一小泥，也许，是两小撮火药灌进去。最好多放些。用一块毡将它们塞紧（据说，一定要用毡，也不知为什么），毡随便什么地方都可以弄到，从床垫或门上撕一块下来就行，有的门上包着毡。然后，塞了毡以后再放子弹，听见了吧，后放子弹，先放火药，不然打不响。您笑什么？我要您每天都练上几次，一定能学会射中目标的。您能做到吗？”
公爵笑着；阿格拉娅着恼地跺了一下脚。她谈这一番话时那一本正经的样子使公爵有些诧异。他在某种程度上感到，他应该打听些什么，询问些什么，至少是比装手枪弹药更正经些的事。但是这一切全从他脑子里飞走了，接下来的就一件事：她坐在他面前，而他望着她，至于她在说什么，此刻对他来说几乎是无所谓的。
后来伊万·费奥多罗维奇自己也从楼上下来走到露台上；他一副愁眉苦脸，忧心忡忡和坚决果断的神情，正要到哪里去。
“啊，列夫·尼古拉伊奇，你……现在去哪里？”尽管列夫·尼古拉那维奇根本就没打算离开，他还是问，“我们走吧，我有话对你说。”
“再见，”阿格拉娅说，并向公爵递过手去。
露台上已经相当幽暗了，公爵这时无法清楚地看清她的脸。过了一会儿，他和将军已经要走出别墅时，他突然脸红得厉害，便牢牢握紧自己的右手。
原来伊万·费奥多罗维奇跟他是同路。尽管时间已经很晚了，伊万·费奥多罗维奇还急于要跟什么人谈什么事。但是现在他突然跟公爵谈了起来，说得很快，语气惊慌不安，相当语无伦次，谈话中常常提及叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜。如果公爵这时注意些的话，那么他也许能猜测到，伊万·费奥多罗维奇顺便想从他那里探询什么，或者莫如说，想直截了当和开门见山地问他什么，但是老是未能触及最主要的点。公爵感到很不好意思，因为他显得那样心不在焉，甚至从一开始就什么也没听进去，当将军停在他面前急切地问一个问题的时候，他不得不向他承认，他一点也没听明白。
将军耸了耸肩。
“你们郁成了某种怪人，从各方面来看都是这样，”他又开始说，“我对你说，我完全不明白叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜的想法和焦虑。她歇斯底里大发作，又哭又闹，说什么有人羞辱了我们，使我们蒙受了耻层。是谁？是怎么侮辱的？是同谁发生了冲突？什么时候又是为什么？我承认自己有过错：（我承认这点），有许多错，但是这个……不安分的（而且行为不良的）女人这样死乞白赖胡缠不休，最终可能会由警察出面加以限制的，我甚至今天就打算去跟什么人见面并事先打好招呼。一切都可以悄悄地、委婉地、甚至温和地妥善解决，不伤交情，绝不闹僵。我也认为未来会发生很多事情，有许多问题尚未弄清楚；这里面有阴谋；但是如果这里什么也不知道，那里还是什么都不会解释；如果我没有听说，你没有听说，他没有听说，第四个也一无所闻，那么请问，最后谁会听说呢？照你看，用什么可以解释这件事？除非是，事情多半是捕风捉影，是不存在的，比方说，犹如月光……或者其他的幻影。”
“她发疯了，”公爵忽然痛苦地想起不久前发生的一切，喃喃说。
“如果你说的是她，那是不谋而合。有时候我也产生这样的想法，于是也就安然入睡了。但是现在我认为，别人的想法正确些，所以我不相信是精神不正常。可以认为这个女人好闹事，不仅不疯，而且闹起来还挺有心计，今天对于卡比东·阿列克谢伊奇所做的反常行为完全可以证明这一点。从她这方面来讲，这事肯定有欺诈，至少是诡计多端，别有用心。”
“哪一个卡比东·阿列克谢伊奇？”
“啊，我的上帝，列夫·尼古拉那维奇，你什么也没听进去。我一开始对你说的就是卡比东·阿列克谢伊奇的事；这事真使我震惊不已，甚至现在手脚还在打颤，为了这件事今天我才去城里多耽搁了。卡比东·阿列克谢伊奇·拉多姆斯基，就是叶甫盖尼·帕夫雷奇的伯父……”
“噢！”公爵恍然发出喊声。
“他是开枪自杀的，清早，黎明，７广钟的时候，是个受人尊敬的老人，７０岁，很会享受。她说的一点不错，是少了一笔公款，款项很大的一笔数字！”
“她打哪儿……”
“知道的？哈－哈！要知道她刚一出现，在她周围就形成了一整个参谋部。你知道吗，现在去拜访她和寻求结识她这种‘荣幸’的是些什么人？很自然刚才她就能从来人那里听到什么情况，因为现在整个彼得堡都已知道了，就是这里也有半个帕夫洛夫斯克甚或整个帕夫洛夫斯克都知道了。据人家告诉我，关于脱去军装的事，也就是关于叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇及时引退的事，我的见解是多么透彻啊！真是绝妙的暗示！不，这不是疯癫的表现。当然，也是不相信叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇事先就知道会发生灾祸，也就是说知道在某日７点钟发生等等。但是他能预感到这一切。而我，我们大家以及ω公爵还指望他伯父会给他留下遗产呢！真可怕！真可怕！不过你要懂得，我丝毫也不责怪叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇，并急于向你说明这一点，但是终究还是令人怀疑的。ω公爵异常震惊。这一切发生得似乎有点怪。”
“但是叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇的行为有什么可怀疑的呢？”
“丝毫也没有！他的举止光明正大，我也没有任何暗示。至于说他自己财产嘛，我想，他是会完整保留好的。叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜当然想听……但主要的是，所有这一切家庭的灾难，或者最好说所有这些争吵，甚至不知道称什么好……你，说真的，是我家的朋友，列夫·尼古拉那维奇，你想想，刚才知道，不过可能不确切，叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇似乎在一个月前就已经对阿格拉娅表白了爱情，好像遭到了她的正式拒绝。”
“不可能！”公爵激动地喊了起来。
“难道你了解什么内情？你瞧，最亲爱的，”将军为之一震，惊讶得一不动站在那里，“也许，我跟你谈这些是多余的和不体面的，但是要知道这是因为你……你……可以说，因为你是这样一个人。也许，你知道什么特别的情况？”
“我什么也不了解……叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇，”公爵喃喃着说。
“我也不了解！……兄弟，他们简直要把我……把我埋入土中葬了，他们就不想想，这对一个人来说多么难受，我也忍受不了。刚才又闹了一场，多可怕！我就像对亲儿子一样对你说这些。主要是，阿格拉娅确实是在嘲笑逗乐，关于她在一个月前好像拒绝了叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇以及她们曾经有过相当正式的表态，是她的两个姐姐作为猜测告诉我的……不过，她们的猜测很有把握。但是要知道，她是个任性的姑娘，充满稀奇古怪的念头，真是没法说！宽厚豁达、心灵和智慧的一切杰出品质--这一切在她身上大概都是具备的，但是与此同时她也顽皮任性，爱讽刺嘲笑，一句话，魔鬼般的性格还加上好发奇想。刚才还当面嘲笑母亲，嘲笑姐姐，嘲笑ω公爵；更不用说对我了，她是难得有不嘲笑我的时候的，但是我算得了什么，要知道，我爱她，甚至就爱她笑话我，也就是说，比任何人都更爱她，好像是这样。我敢打赌，她连您也已经在嘲笑什么了，刚才楼上大发雷霆之后，我发现你们在交谈：她跟你坐在那里好像没事儿似的。”
公爵脸红得不得了，握紧右手，但是没有作声。
“亲爱的，我的好人列夫·尼古拉那维奇！”将军突然满怀感情并激动地说，“我……甚至叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜本人（不过，她又开始骂你了，由于你还同时骂我，只是我不明白是为什么），我们终究是爱你的，真诚地爱你和尊敬你，甚至不论怎样，也就是说，不论表面上怎样。但是，你也会同意的，亲爱的朋友，你自己也会同意的，突然听到这个冷血鬼说出那番话，会多么莫名其妙，多么烦恼（因为她在母亲面前，摆上一副对所有我们的问题不屑置理的神态，尤其是对我的问题，因为我，真见鬼，犯了傻，因为我是一家之长，我想出来要摆摆威风--嘿，犯了傻），这个冷血鬼突然冷笑着声称，这个“疯女人”（她是这么说的，我觉得奇怪，她跟你说的是一样的话：‘难道你们至今还猜不到’？，“这个疯女人坚持无论如何要我嫁给列夫·尼古拉那维奇公爵，为此她要把叶甫盖尼·帕夫雷奇撵出我们家……”就这么说，没再做任何解释，只顾自己哈哈大笑，我们则目瞪口呆，她却嘭一声关上门，走了。后来她们把刚才跟她和跟你有关的事告诉了我……还有……还有……听着，亲爱的公爵，你不是个好见怪的人，你很明白事理的，我发现你身上有这样的品质，但是……请别生气：真的，她嘲笑你，她像孩子似地笑闹，因此你别生她气，但事情肯走是这样的。你别多作他想，她不过是愚弄你和我们大家，是出于无所事事。好了，再见！你了解我们的感情吗？了解我们对你的真挚感情吗？这种感情是始终不渝的，永远不变，丝毫不变……但是……现在我要往这里走了，再见，过去我很少像现在这样心绪不宁的（这是怎么说的？）……啊，前面是别墅！”
剩下一个人在岔路口时，公爵朝周围打量了一下，很快地穿过街，走近一憧别墅亮着灯的窗口，展开一张纸片。在跟伊万·费奥多罗维奇谈话的时候，他一直紧紧地把它捏在右手里。现在就着微弱的光线，他读着：
“明天早晨７点我将在公园的绿椅子上等您。我决定告诉您一件异常重要的事，它直接关系到您。
又及，我希望，您不要把这张字条给任何人看，虽然对您写上这样的叮嘱我感到很不好意思，但是我考虑的结果，认为这对您是必要的，所以就写上了，因为我为您那可笑的性格而感到羞愧脸红。
又又及，那张绿色条椅就是刚才指给您看的那一张，您真得感到难为情！我不得不也写明这一点。”
字条是匆匆写就的，折得也很马虎，大概就在阿格拉娅走到露台来前写的。公爵怀着近乎惊恐不安、难以形容的激动心情又把纸条紧紧握在手中，犹如受惊的小偷似的急忙从窗口灯光下跳开：但在这样做的时候突然跟就在他肩后的一位先生憧了个满怀。
“我一直跟在您后面，公爵，”这位先生说。
“是您，凯勒尔？”公爵惊呼道。
“我在找您，公爵。我曾在叶潘钦家的别墅旁等过您，当然，我无法进去。您跟将军一起走着的时候，我就在你们后面走着。公爵，我愿为您效劳，您就吩咐凯勒尔吧，我愿为您牺牲，如果需要的话，甚至愿意去死。”
“可是……这是为什么？”
“嘿，大概接着会有挑战。这个莫洛夫佐夫中尉，我了解，但我不认识他……他是不会容忍屈辱的。当然，他把我们弟兄，也就是我和罗戈任，倾向于看做废物，也许，这是理该如此，这样就只有您一个人对付他了，公爵，您不得不付这笔账了。我听说他在打听您，大概明天他的朋友就会去找您，也许，现在就已经在等您了。如果您赏脸选我做决斗的助手，为您即使贬为士兵我也愿意；为此我才找您，公爵。”
“原来您说的也是决斗！”公爵忽然哈哈笑了起来，使凯勒尔异常惊讶。他是十分厉害。凯勒尔本来确实几乎如坐针毡不得安生，直到提出自己当决斗助手的建议之后，才感到心满意足，现在看到公爵笑得这么开心，几乎感到受了委屈。
“可是，公爵，您刚才抓住了人家的子，一个有身份的人在大庭广众下是难以容忍这一点的。”
“可是他当胸推了我一下。”公爵笑着嚷道，“我们没有什么好争的！我将请他原谅，事情也就完了，如果要交手，那就交手吧：就让他开枪好了，我甚至希望这样。哈！哈！我现在会给个枪装弹药了！凯勒尔，您会给手枪上弹药吗？先应该买火药，手枪用的，不能湿的，也不是打炮时用的粗的那种；然后先是放火药，从门上什么地方扯一块毡，接下来把子弹装进去，不能在装火药前就放子弹，否则就会打不响。听着，凯勒尔，否则就会打不响的。哈－哈！难道这不是绝好的机会，凯勒尔朋友、啊，凯勒尔，知道吗，我现在要拥抱您，吻您，哈－哈－哈！您刚才怎么突然出现在我面前的？赶快到我那儿去喝香槟。我们一起喝个一醉方休！您知道吗，我有十二瓶香槟酒，在列别杰夫的地窖里？前天列别杰夫‘碰巧’卖给我，第二天我搬到他那儿去住，我就全部买下了！我要把所有的伙伴都召集来：怎么样，今夜您要睡觉吗？”
“跟任何一夜一样，公爵。”
“好吧，那就祝您睡个安稳觉！哈－哈！”
公爵穿过街道，消失在公园里，留下了有点不知所措、耽于沉思中的凯勒尔。他还没有见过公爵有这样奇怪的情绪，甚至到现在他也无法想像这一点。
“也许是狂热，因为他是个神经质的人，加上所有这一切的影响，当然他是不会胆怯的。这种人就是不怕，真的！”凯勒尔暗自思忖着，“嗯，香槟这倒是个挺有趣的消息。有十二瓶，一打；不错，相应于一支挺像样的卫兵分队。我敢打赌，一定是列别杰夫从谁那作为抵押而得到这批香槟的。嗯……不过这个公爵是挺可爱的；确实，我喜欢这样的人：但是没什么好错过时机的……既然有香槟，现在正是时候……”
说公爵一时狂热，当然，这是说对了。
他在幽暗的公园里徘徊了很久，最后“发现自己”老在一条林荫道上转悠，在他的意识里存留着这样的印象：他已经走过这条林荫道了，从长椅到一棵又高又显眼的老树，总共百来步，他已经来回走了三四十趟了。在这至少整整１个小时的时间里，他在公园里想了些什么，他竟怎么也想不起来，甚至即使是想回忆也未有所获，不过，他还是捕捉到了一个念头，因此而突然笑得前仰后合；虽然没什么好笑的，但他老是想笑。他想，关于决斗的设想，可能不只是在凯勒尔一个人的头脑里产生，因此，给手枪装弹药的事也许并非偶然……“哦，”他恍然想起另一个想法而突然站住了，“刚才他坐在角里时，她走到露台上来，发现我坐在那里，惊讶万分，而且--还那样笑……还问要不要喝茶；可是这时这张字条已经在她手里了，因此，她一定知道我坐在露台上，那么她又为什么感到惊讶呢？哈－哈－哈。”
他从口袋里掏出字条，吻了一下，但马上又停下来，沉思起来。
“这多么奇怪！这多么奇怪！”过了片刻他甚至有点忧郁地说。在感到强烈兴奋的时候他总会变得忧郁起来，他自己也不知道为什么。他凝神环顾四周，为走到这里来而惊讶。他很疲劳，走近条椅坐下。周围异常寂静。车站上音乐会已经结束。公园里大概已经没有别的人了；当然，至少已有１１点半。夜是宁静、温暖、明亮的，６月初的彼得堡之夜就是这样的，但是在绿荫茂密的花园里，在他所处的林荫道上，却几乎已经全黑了。
假如此刻有谁对他说，他在恋爱，而且，爱得很热烈，那么他会惊诧地否定这种想法，甚至会感到气忿。假如有人再补充说，阿格拉娅的字条是情书书，是约恋人幽会，那么他会为那个人羞愧得无地自容，也许还会向提出决斗。这一切完全是真诚的，他一次也没有怀疑过，也不容许有丝毫模棱两可的念头--认为这姑娘有可能爱他，或者甚至是自己有可能爱她。爱他，可能“爱像他这么一个人’！他认为是件咄咄怪事。他隐约觉得，如果确实有什么名堂的话，这不过是她这方面的儿戏；但是他对这种儿戏似乎大无动于衷，认为它太平常；他自己要操心和关心的完全是别的事。对于刚才将军激动之中脱口而出的话，即她嘲笑大家，尤其嘲笑他公爵，他是完全相信的。在这种情况下他丝毫也不感到受了屈辱；在他看来，事情就该是这样的。对于他来说主要的是明天他又将见到她，一清早就将与她并排坐在绿色长椅上，将听她讲怎么给手枪上弹药，将望着她。别的他什么都不需要，她究竟打算对他讲什么，这件直接关系到他的重要事究竟是件什么事，有一两回在他的头脑里也曾闪过这样的问题。此外，阿格拉娅约他来谈“重要事’，他片刻也不怀疑确实有那回事。但是现在他几乎根本不去想这件重要的事，甚至丝毫感觉不到要想这件事的欲望。
林荫道沙地上轻轻发出的嚓嚓脚步声使得他抬起头来。黑暗中很难辨认来者的脸。这个人走到长椅前，在他旁边坐下。公爵迅即移近他，几乎紧挨着他，这才看出了是罗戈任苍白的脸。
“我就知道，你是在这里什么地方游荡，没用多久就找到了，”罗戈任从牙缝里挤出这两句话低声说道。
在旅客走廊里相遇之后他们是第一次见面。罗戈任的突然出现使公爵大力惊诧，有一段时间他都无法集中思想，痛苦的感觉又在他的心间复苏。看来，罗戈任明白他给对方造成的印象；虽然开始他曾有点不知所措，说话似乎故作随便的样子，但公爵很快就觉得，罗戈任没有丝毫做作，甚至也没有丝毫特别的困窘；如果在他的手势和话语里曾有过某种不自然，那也仅仅是外表的；在内心这个人是不可能改变的。
“你怎么……会在这儿找到我的？”公爵为了开始说话而问道。
“从凯勒尔那儿听说（我上你那儿去过），‘到公园去了’不是我想，事情果然是这样。”
“什么事情？”公爵不安地抓住罗戈任冒出来的话问。
罗戈任冷冷一笑，但不做解释。
“我收到了你的信，列夫·尼古拉那维奇；你这一切全是徒劳……何苦呢？……现在我是从她那儿来找你的：她嘱咐一定要把你叫去，有什么话非常必要告诉你。她要你今天就去。”
“我明天去。我马上回家去：你……到我那儿去吗。”
“干什么？我把所有的话都对你说了；再见。”
“难道您不顺便去一下？”公爵轻轻问他。
“你这人真怪，列夫·尼古拉那维奇，真让人对你感到惊讶。”