"I WILL not deceive you. 'Reality' got me so entrapped in its meshes now and again during the past six months, that I forgot my 'sentence' (or perhaps I did not wish to think of it), and actually busied myself with affairs.
"A word as to my circumstances. When, eight months since, I became very ill, I threw up all my old connections and dropped all my old companions. As I was always a gloomy, morose sort of individual, my friends easily forgot me; of course, they would have forgotten me all the same, without that excuse. My position at home was solitary enough. Five months ago I separated myself entirely from the family, and no one dared enter my room except at stated times, to clean and tidy it, and so on, and to bring me my meals. My mother dared not disobey me; she kept the children quiet, for my sake, and beat them if they dared to make any noise and disturb me. I so often complained of them that I should think they must be very fond, indeed, of me by this time. I think I must have tormented 'my faithful Colia' (as I called him) a good deal too. He tormented me of late; I could see that he always bore my tempers as though he had determined to 'spare the poor invalid.' This annoyed me, naturally. He seemed to have taken it into his head to imitate the prince in Christian meekness! Surikoff, who lived above us, annoyed me, too. He was so miserably poor, and I used to prove to him that he had no one to blame but himself for his poverty. I used to be so angry that I think I frightened him eventually, for he stopped coming to see me. He was a most meek and humble fellow, was Surikoff. (N.B.-- They say that meekness is a great power. I must ask the prince about this, for the expression is his.) But I remember one day in March, when I went up to his lodgings to see whether it was true that one of his children had been starved and frozen to death, I began to hold forth to him about his poverty being his own fault, and, in the course of my remarks, I accidentally smiled at the corpse of his child. Well, the poor wretch's lips began to tremble, and he caught me by the shoulder, and pushed me to the door. 'Go out,' he said, in a whisper. I went out, of course, and I declare I LIKED it. I liked it at the very moment when I was turned out. But his words filled me with a strange sort of feeling of disdainful pity for him whenever I thought of them--a feeling which I did not in the least desire to entertain. At the very moment of the insult (for I admit that I did insult him, though I did not mean to), this man could not lose his temper. His lips had trembled, but I swear it was not with rage. He had taken me by the arm, and said, 'Go out,' without the least anger. There was dignity, a great deal of dignity, about him, and it was so inconsistent with the look of him that, I assure you, it was quite comical. But there was no anger. Perhaps he merely began to despise me at that moment.
"Since that time he has always taken off his hat to me on the stairs, whenever I met him, which is a thing he never did before; but he always gets away from me as quickly as he can, as though he felt confused. If he did despise me, he despised me 'meekly,' after his own fashion.
"I dare say he only took his hat off out of fear, as it were, to the son of his creditor; for he always owed my mother money. I thought of having an explanation with him, but I knew that if I did, he would begin to apologize in a minute or two, so I decided to let him alone.
"Just about that time, that is, the middle of March, I suddenly felt very much better; this continued for a couple of weeks. I used to go out at dusk. I like the dusk, especially in March, when the night frost begins to harden the day's puddles, and the gas is burning.
"Well, one night in the Shestilavochnaya, a man passed me with a paper parcel under his arm. I did not take stock of him very carefully, but he seemed to be dressed in some shabby summer dust-coat, much too light for the season. When he was opposite the lamp-post, some ten yards away, I observed something fall out of his pocket. I hurried forward to pick it up, just in time, for an old wretch in a long kaftan rushed up too. He did not dispute the matter, but glanced at what was in my hand and disappeared.
"It was a large old-fashioned pocket-book, stuffed full; but I guessed, at a glance, that it had anything in the world inside it, except money.
"The owner was now some forty yards ahead of me, and was very soon lost in the crowd. I ran after him, and began calling out; but as I knew nothing to say excepting 'hey!' he did not turn round. Suddenly he turned into the gate of a house to the left; and when I darted in after him, the gateway was so dark that I could see nothing whatever. It was one of those large houses built in small tenements, of which there must have been at least a hundred.
"When I entered the yard I thought I saw a man going along on the far side of it; but it was so dark I could not make out his figure.
"I crossed to that corner and found a dirty dark staircase. I heard a man mounting up above me, some way higher than I was, and thinking I should catch him before his door would be opened to him, I rushed after him. I heard a door open and shut on the fifth storey, as I panted along; the stairs were narrow, and the steps innumerable, but at last I reached the door I thought the right one. Some moments passed before I found the bell and got it to ring.
"An old peasant woman opened the door; she was busy lighting the 'samovar' in a tiny kitchen. She listened silently to my questions, did not understand a word, of course, and opened another door leading into a little bit of a room, low and scarcely furnished at all, but with a large, wide bed in it, hung with curtains. On this bed lay one Terentich, as the woman called him, drunk, it appeared to me. On the table was an end of candle in an iron candlestick, and a half-bottle of vodka, nearly finished. Terentich muttered something to me, and signed towards the next room. The old woman had disappeared, so there was nothing for me to do but to open the door indicated. I did so, and entered the next room.
"This was still smaller than the other, so cramped that I could scarcely turn round; a narrow single bed at one side took up nearly all the room. Besides the bed there were only three common chairs, and a wretched old kitchen-table standing before a small sofa. One could hardly squeeze through between the table and the bed.
"On the table, as in the other room, burned a tallow candle-end in an iron candlestick; and on the bed there whined a baby of scarcely three weeks old. A pale-looking woman was dressing the child, probably the mother; she looked as though she had not as yet got over the trouble of childbirth, she seemed so weak and was so carelessly dressed. Another child, a little girl of about three years old, lay on the sofa, covered over with what looked like a man's old dress-coat.
"At the table stood a man in his shirt sleeves; he had thrown off his coat; it lay upon the bed; and he was unfolding a blue paper parcel in which were a couple of pounds of bread, and some little sausages.
"On the table along with these things were a few old bits of black bread, and some tea in a pot. From under the bed there protruded an open portmanteau full of bundles of rags. In a word, the confusion and untidiness of the room were indescribable.
"It appeared to me, at the first glance, that both the man and the woman were respectable people, but brought to that pitch of poverty where untidiness seems to get the better of every effort to cope with it, till at last they take a sort of bitter satisfaction in it. When I entered the room, the man, who had entered but a moment before me, and was still unpacking his parcels, was saying something to his wife in an excited manner. The news was apparently bad, as usual, for the woman began whimpering. The man's face seemed tome to be refined and even pleasant. He was dark-complexioned, and about twenty-eight years of age; he wore black whiskers, and his lip and chin were shaved. He looked morose, but with a sort of pride of expression. A curious scene followed.
"There are people who find satisfaction in their own touchy feelings, especially when they have just taken the deepest offence; at such moments they feel that they would rather be offended than not. These easily-ignited natures, if they are wise, are always full of remorse afterwards, when they reflect that they have been ten times as angry as they need have been.
"The gentleman before me gazed at me for some seconds in amazement, and his wife in terror; as though there was something alarmingly extraordinary in the fact that anyone could come to see them. But suddenly he fell upon me almost with fury; I had had no time to mutter more than a couple of words; but he had doubtless observed that I was decently dressed and, therefore, took deep offence because I had dared enter his den so unceremoniously, and spy out the squalor and untidiness of it.
"Of course he was delighted to get hold of someone upon whom to vent his rage against things in general.
"For a moment I thought he would assault me; he grew so pale that he looked like a woman about to have hysterics; his wife was dreadfully alarmed.
"'How dare you come in so? Be off!' he shouted, trembling all over with rage and scarcely able to articulate the words. Suddenly, however, he observed his pocketbook in my hand.
"'I think you dropped this,' I remarked, as quietly and drily as I could. (I thought it best to treat him so.) For some while he stood before me in downright terror, and seemed unable to understand. He then suddenly grabbed at his side-pocket, opened his mouth in alarm, and beat his forehead with his hand.
"'My God!' he cried, 'where did you find it? How?' I explained in as few words as I could, and as drily as possible, how I had seen it and picked it up; how I had run after him, and called out to him, and how I had followed him upstairs and groped my way to his door.
"'Gracious Heaven!' he cried, 'all our papers are in it! My dear sir, you little know what you have done for us. I should have been lost--lost!'
"I had taken hold of the door-handle meanwhile, intending to leave the room without reply; but I was panting with my run upstairs, and my exhaustion came to a climax in a violent fit of coughing, so bad that I could hardly stand.
"I saw how the man dashed about the room to find me an empty chair, how he kicked the rags off a chair which was covered up by them, brought it to me, and helped me to sit down; but my cough went on for another three minutes or so. When I came to myself he was sitting by me on another chair, which he had also cleared of the rubbish by throwing it all over the floor, and was watching me intently.
"'I'm afraid you are ill?' he remarked, in the tone which doctors use when they address a patient. 'I am myself a medical man' (he did not say 'doctor'), with which words he waved his hands towards the room and its contents as though in protest at his present condition. 'I see that you--'
"'I'm in consumption,' I said laconically, rising from my seat.
He jumped up, too.
"'Perhaps you are exaggerating--if you were to take proper measures perhaps--"
"He was terribly confused and did not seem able to collect his scattered senses; the pocket-book was still in his left hand.
"'Oh, don't mind me,' I said. 'Dr. B-- saw me last week' (I lugged him in again), 'and my hash is quite settled; pardon me-' I took hold of the door-handle again. I was on the point of opening the door and leaving my grateful but confused medical friend to himself and his shame, when my damnable cough got hold of me again.
"My doctor insisted on my sitting down again to get my breath. He now said something to his wife who, without leaving her place, addressed a few words of gratitude and courtesy to me. She seemed very shy over it, and her sickly face flushed up with confusion. I remained, but with the air of a man who knows he is intruding and is anxious to get away. The doctor's remorse at last seemed to need a vent, I could see.
"'If I--' he began, breaking off abruptly every other moment, and starting another sentence. 'I-I am so very grateful to you, and I am so much to blame in your eyes, I feel sure, I--you see--' (he pointed to the room again) 'at this moment I am in such a position-'
"'Oh!' I said, 'there's nothing to see; it's quite a clear case-- you've lost your post and have come up to make explanations and get another, if you can!'
"'How do you know that?' he asked in amazement.
"'Oh, it was evident at the first glance,' I said ironically, but not intentionally so. 'There are lots of people who come up from the provinces full of hope, and run about town, and have to live as best they can.'
"He began to talk at once excitedly and with trembling lips; he began complaining and telling me his story. He interested me, I confess; I sat there nearly an hour. His story was a very ordinary one. He had been a provincial doctor; he had a civil appointment, and had no sooner taken it up than intrigues began. Even his wife was dragged into these. He was proud, and flew into a passion; there was a change of local government which acted in favour of his opponents; his position was undermined, complaints were made against him; he lost his post and came up to Petersburg with his last remaining money, in order to appeal to higher authorities. Of course nobody would listen to him for a long time; he would come and tell his story one day and be refused promptly; another day he would be fed on false promises; again he would be treated harshly; then he would be told to sign some documents; then he would sign the paper and hand it in, and they would refuse to receive it, and tell him to file a formal petition. In a word he had been driven about from office to office for five months and had spent every farthing he had; his wife's last rags had just been pawned; and meanwhile a child had been born to them and--and today I have a final refusal to my petition, and I have hardly a crumb of bread left--I have nothing left; my wife has had a baby lately--and I-I--'
"He sprang up from his chair and turned away. His wife was crying in the corner; the child had begun to moan again. I pulled out my note-book and began writing in it. When I had finished and rose from my chair he was standing before me with an expression of alarmed curiosity.
"'I have jotted down your name,' I told him, 'and all the rest of it--the place you served at, the district, the date, and all. I have a friend, Bachmatoff, whose uncle is a councillor of state and has to do with these matters, one Peter Matveyevitch Bachmatoff.'
"'Peter Matveyevitch Bachmatoff!' he cried, trembling all over with excitement. 'Why, nearly everything depends on that very man!'
"It is very curious, this story of the medical man, and my visit, and the happy termination to which I contributed by accident! Everything fitted in, as in a novel. I told the poor people not to put much hope in me, because I was but a poor schoolboy myself-- (I am not really, but I humiliated myself as much as possible in order to make them less hopeful)--but that I would go at once to the Vassili Ostroff and see my friend; and that as I knew for certain that his uncle adored him, and was absolutely devoted to him as the last hope and branch of the family, perhaps the old man might do something to oblige his nephew.
"'If only they would allow me to explain all to his excellency! If I could but be permitted to tell my tale to him!" he cried, trembling with feverish agitation, and his eyes flashing with excitement. I repeated once more that I could not hold out much hope--that it would probably end in smoke, and if I did not turn up next morning they must make up their minds that there was no more to be done in the matter.
"They showed me out with bows and every kind of respect; they seemed quite beside themselves. I shall never forget the expression of their faces!
"I took a droshky and drove over to the Vassili Ostroff at once. For some years I had been at enmity with this young Bachmatoff, at school. We considered him an aristocrat; at all events I called him one. He used to dress smartly, and always drove to school in a private trap. He was a good companion, and was always merry and jolly, sometimes even witty, though he was not very intellectual, in spite of the fact that he was always top of the class; I myself was never top in anything! All his companions were very fond of him, excepting myself. He had several times during those years come up to me and tried to make friends; but I had always turned sulkily away and refused to have anything to do with him. I had not seen him for a whole year now; he was at the university. When, at nine o'clock, or so, this evening, I arrived and was shown up to him with great ceremony, he first received me with astonishment, and not too affably, but he soon cheered up, and suddenly gazed intently at me and burst out laughing.
"'Why, what on earth can have possessed you to come and see ME, Terentieff?' he cried, with his usual pleasant, sometimes audacious, but never offensive familiarity, which I liked in reality, but for which I also detested him. 'Why what's the matter?' he cried in alarm. 'Are you ill?'
"That confounded cough of mine had come on again; I fell into a chair, and with difficulty recovered my breath. 'It's all right, it's only consumption' I said. 'I have come to you with a petition!'
"He sat down in amazement, and I lost no time in telling him the medical man's history; and explained that he, with the influence which he possessed over his uncle, might do some good to the poor fellow.
"'I'll do it--I'll do it, of course!' he said. 'I shall attack my uncle about it tomorrow morning, and I'm very glad you told me the story. But how was it that you thought of coming to me about it, Terentieff?'
"'So much depends upon your uncle,' I said. 'And besides we have always been enemies, Bachmatoff; and as you are a generous sort of fellow, I thought you would not refuse my request because I was your enemy!' I added with irony.
"'Like Napoleon going to England, eh?' cried he, laughing. 'I'll do it though--of course, and at once, if I can!' he added, seeing that I rose seriously from my chair at this point.
"And sure enough the matter ended as satisfactorily as possible. A month or so later my medical friend was appointed to another post. He got his travelling expenses paid, and something to help him to start life with once more. I think Bachmatoff must have persuaded the doctor to accept a loan from himself. I saw Bachmatoff two or three times, about this period, the third time being when he gave a farewell dinner to the doctor and his wife before their departure, a champagne dinner.
"Bachmatoff saw me home after the dinner and we crossed the Nicolai bridge. We were both a little drunk. He told me of his joy, the joyful feeling of having done a good action; he said that it was all thanks to myself that he could feel this satisfaction; and held forth about the foolishness of the theory that individual charity is useless
"'He scarcely ever talked about the particular crimes of any of them, but listened if any volunteered information on that point. All the convicts were equal for him, and he made no distinction. He spoke to all as to brothers, and every one of them looked upon him as a father. When he observed among the exiles some poor woman with a child, he would always come forward and fondle the little one, and make it laugh. He continued these acts of mercy up to his very death; and by that time all the criminals, all over Russia and Siberia, knew him!
"'A man I knew who had been to Siberia and returned, told me that he himself had been a witness of how the very most hardened criminals remembered the old general, though, in point of fact, he could never, of course, have distributed more than a few pence to each member of a party. Their recollection of him was not sentimental or particularly devoted. Some wretch, for instance, who had been a murderer--cutting the throat of a dozen fellow- creatures, for instance; or stabbing six little children for his own amusement (there have been such men!)--would perhaps, without rhyme or reason, suddenly give a sigh and say, "I wonder whether that old general is alive still!" Although perhaps he had not thought of mentioning him for a dozen years before! How can one say what seed of good may have been dropped into his soul, never to die?'
"I continued in that strain for a long while, pointing out to Bachmatoff how impossible it is to follow up the effects of any isolated good deed one may do, in all its influences and subtle workings upon the heart and after-actions of others.
"'And to think that you are to be cut off from life!' remarked Bachmatoff, in a tone of reproach, as though he would like to find someone to pitch into on my account.
"We were leaning over the balustrade of the bridge, looking into the Neva at this moment.
"'Do you know what has suddenly come into my head?' said I, suddenly--leaning further and further over the rail.
"'Surely not to throw yourself into the river?' cried Bachmatoff in alarm. Perhaps he read my thought in my face.
"'No, not yet. At present nothing but the following consideration. You see I have some two or three months left me to live--perhaps four; well, supposing that when I have but a month or two more, I take a fancy for some "good deed" that needs both trouble and time, like this business of our doctor friend, for instance: why, I shall have to give up the idea of it and take to something else--some LITTLE good deed, MORE WITHIN MY MEANS, eh? Isn't that an amusing idea!'
"Poor Bachmatoff was much impressed--painfully so. He took me all the way home; not attempting to console me, but behaving with the greatest delicacy. On taking leave he pressed my hand warmly and asked permission to come and see me. I replied that if he came to me as a 'comforter,' so to speak (for he would be in that capacity whether he spoke to me in a soothing manner or only kept silence, as I pointed out to him), he would but remind me each time of my approaching death! He shrugged his shoulders, but quite agreed with me; and we parted better friends than I had expected.
"But that evening and that night were sown the first seeds of my 'last conviction.' I seized greedily on my new idea; I thirstily drank in all its different aspects (I did not sleep a wink that night!), and the deeper I went into it the more my being seemed to merge itself in it, and the more alarmed I became. A dreadful terror came over me at last, and did not leave me all next day.
"Sometimes, thinking over this, I became quite numb with the terror of it; and I might well have deduced from this fact, that my 'last conviction' was eating into my being too fast and too seriously, and would undoubtedly come to its climax before long. And for the climax I needed greater determination than I yet possessed.
"However, within three weeks my determination was taken, owing to a very strange circumstance.
"Here on my paper, I make a note of all the figures and dates that come into my explanation. Of course, it is all the same to me, but just now--and perhaps only at this moment--I desire that all those who are to judge of my action should see clearly out of how logical a sequence of deductions has at length proceeded my 'last conviction.'
"I have said above that the determination needed by me for the accomplishment of my final resolve, came to hand not through any sequence of causes, but thanks to a certain strange circumstance which had perhaps no connection whatever with the matter at issue. Ten days ago Rogojin called upon me about certain business of his own with which I have nothing to do at present. I had never seen Rogojin before, but had often heard about him.
"I gave him all the information he needed, and he very soon took his departure; so that, since he only came for the purpose of gaining the information, the matter might have been expected to end there.
"But he interested me too much, and all that day I was under the influence of strange thoughts connected with him, and I determined to return his visit the next day.
"Rogojin was evidently by no means pleased to see me, and hinted, delicately, that he saw no reason why our acquaintance should continue. For all that, however, I spent a very interesting hour, and so, I dare say, did he. There was so great a contrast between us that I am sure we must both have felt it; anyhow, I felt it acutely. Here was I, with my days numbered, and he, a man in the full vigour of life, living in the present, without the slightest thought for 'final convictions,' or numbers, or days, or, in fact, for anything but that which-which--well, which he was mad about, if he will excuse me the expression--as a feeble author who cannot express his ideas properly.
"In spite of his lack of amiability, I could not help seeing, in Rogojin a man of intellect and sense; and although, perhaps, there was little in the outside world which was of. interest to him, still he was clearly a man with eyes to see.
"I hinted nothing to him about my 'final conviction,' but it appeared to me that he had guessed it from my words. He remained silent--he is a terribly silent man. I remarked to him, as I rose to depart, that, in spite of the contrast and the wide differences between us two, les extremites se touchent ('extremes meet,' as I explained to him in Russian); so that maybe he was not so far from my final conviction as appeared.
"His only reply to this was a sour grimace. He rose and looked for my cap, and placed it in my hand, and led me out of the house--that dreadful gloomy house of his--to all appearances, of course, as though I were leaving of my own accord, and he were simply seeing me to the door out of politeness. His house impressed me much; it is like a burial-ground, he seems to like it, which is, however, quite natural. Such a full life as he leads is so overflowing with absorbing interests that he has little need of assistance from his surroundings.
"The visit to Rogojin exhausted me terribly. Besides, I had felt ill since the morning; and by evening I was so weak that I took to my bed, and was in high fever at intervals, and even delirious. Colia sat with me until eleven o'clock.
"Yet I remember all he talked about, and every word we said, though whenever my eyes closed for a moment I could picture nothing but the image of Surikoff just in the act of finding a million roubles. He could not make up his mind what to do with the money, and tore his hair over it. He trembled with fear that somebody would rob him, and at last he decided to bury it in the ground. I persuaded him that, instead of putting it all away uselessly underground, he had better melt it down and make a golden coffin out of it for his starved child, and then dig up the little one and put her into the golden coffin. Surikoff accepted this suggestion, I thought, with tears of gratitude, and immediately commenced to carry out my design.
"I thought I spat on the ground and left him in disgust. Colia told me, when I quite recovered my senses, that I had not been asleep for a moment, but that I had spoken to him about Surikoff the whole while.
"At moments I was in a state of dreadful weakness and misery, so that Colia was greatly disturbed when he left me.
"When I arose to lock the door after him, I suddenly called to mind a picture I had noticed at Rogojin's in one of his gloomiest rooms, over the door. He had pointed it out to me himself as we walked past it, and I believe I must have stood a good five minutes in front of it. There was nothing artistic about it, but the picture made me feel strangely uncomfortable. It represented Christ just taken down from the cross. It seems to me that painters as a rule represent the Saviour, both on the cross and taken down from it, with great beauty still upon His face. This marvellous beauty they strive to preserve even in His moments of deepest agony and passion. But there was no such beauty in Rogojin's picture. This was the presentment of a poor mangled body which had evidently suffered unbearable anguish even before its crucifixion, full of wounds and bruises, marks of the violence of soldiers and people, and of the bitterness of the moment when He had fallen with the cross--all this combined with the anguish of the actual crucifixion.
"The face was depicted as though still suffering; as though the body, only just dead, was still almost quivering with agony. The picture was one of pure nature, for the face was not beautified by the artist, but was left as it would naturally be, whosoever the sufferer, after such anguish.
"I know that the earliest Christian faith taught that the Saviour suffered actually and not figuratively, and that nature was allowed her own way even while His body was on the cross.
"It is strange to look on this dreadful picture of the mangled corpse of the Saviour, and to put this question to oneself: 'Supposing that the disciples, the future apostles, the women who had followed Him and stood by the cross, all of whom believed in and worshipped Him--supposing that they saw this tortured body, this face so mangled and bleeding and bruised (and they MUST have so seen it)--how could they have gazed upon the dreadful sight and yet have believed that He would rise again?'
"The thought steps in, whether one likes it or no, that death is so terrible and so powerful, that even He who conquered it in His miracles during life was unable to triumph over it at the last. He who called to Lazarus, 'Lazarus, come forth!' and the dead man lived--He was now Himself a prey to nature and death. Nature appears to one, looking at this picture, as some huge, implacable, dumb monster; or still better--a stranger simile--some enormous mechanical engine of modern days which has seized and crushed and swallowed up a great and invaluable Being, a Being worth nature and all her laws, worth the whole earth, which was perhaps created merely for the sake of the advent of that Being.
"This blind, dumb, implacable, eternal, unreasoning force is well shown in the picture, and the absolute subordination of all men and things to it is so well expressed that the idea unconsciously arises in the mind of anyone who looks at it. All those faithful people who were gazing at the cross and its mutilated occupant must have suffered agony of mind that evening; for they must have felt that all their hopes and almost all their faith had been shattered at a blow. They must have separated in terror and dread that night, though each perhaps carried away with him one great thought which was never eradicated from his mind for ever afterwards. If this great Teacher of theirs could have seen Himself after the Crucifixion, how could He have consented to mount the Cross and to die as He did? This thought also comes into the mind of the man who gazes at this picture. I thought of all this by snatches probably between my attacks of delirium--for an hour and a half or so before Colia's departure.
"Can there be an appearance of that which has no form? And yet it seemed to me, at certain moments, that I beheld in some strange and impossible form, that dark, dumb, irresistibly powerful, eternal force.
"I thought someone led me by the hand and showed me, by the light of a candle, a huge, loathsome insect, which he assured me was that very force, that very almighty, dumb, irresistible Power, and laughed at the indignation with which I received this information. In my room they always light the little lamp before my icon for the night; it gives a feeble flicker of light, but it is strong enough to see by dimly, and if you sit just under it you can even read by it. I think it was about twelve or a little past that night. I had not slept a wink, and was lying with my eyes wide open, when suddenly the door opened, and in came Rogojin.
"He entered, and shut the door behind him. Then he silently gazed at me and went quickly to the corner of the room where the lamp was burning and sat down underneath it.
"I was much surprised, and looked at him expectantly.
"Rogojin only leaned his elbow on the table and silently stared at me. So passed two or three minutes, and I recollect that his silence hurt and offended me very much. Why did he not speak?
"That his arrival at this time of night struck me as more or less strange may possibly be the case; but I remember I was by no means amazed at it. On the contrary, though I had not actually told him my thought in the morning, yet I know he understood it; and this thought was of such a character that it would not be anything very remarkable, if one were to come for further talk about it at any hour of night, however late.
"I thought he must have come for this purpose.
"In the morning we had parted not the best of friends; I remember he looked at me with disagreeable sarcasm once or twice; and this same look I observed in his eyes now--which was the cause of the annoyance I felt.
"I did not for a moment suspect that I was delirious and that this Rogojin was but the result of fever and excitement. I had not the slightest idea of such a theory at first.
"Meanwhile he continued to sit and stare jeeringly at me.
"I angrily turned round in bed and made up my mind that I would not say a word unless he did; so I rested silently on my pillow determined to remain dumb, if it were to last till morning. I felt resolved that he should speak first. Probably twenty minutes or so passed in this way. Suddenly the idea struck me--what if this is an apparition and not Rogojin himself?
"Neither during my illness nor at any previous time had I ever seen an apparition;--but I had always thought, both when I was a little boy, and even now, that if I were to see one I should die on the spot--though I don't believe in ghosts. And yet NOW, when the idea struck me that this was a ghost and not Rogojin at all, I was not in the least alarmed. Nay--the thought actually irritated me. Strangely enough, the decision of the question as to whether this were a ghost or Rogojin did not, for some reason or other, interest me nearly so much as it ought to have done;--I think I began to muse about something altogether different. For instance, I began to wonder why Rogojin, who had been in dressing--gown and slippers when I saw him at home, had now put on a dress-coat and white waistcoat and tie? I also thought to myself, I remember--'if this is a ghost, and I am not afraid of it, why don't I approach it and verify my suspicions? Perhaps I am afraid--' And no sooner did this last idea enter my head than an icy blast blew over me; I felt a chill down my backbone and my knees shook.
"At this very moment, as though divining my thoughts, Rogojin raised his head from his arm and began to part his lips as though he were going to laugh--but he continued to stare at me as persistently as before.
"I felt so furious with him at this moment that I longed to rush at him; but as I had sworn that he should speak first, I continued to lie still--and the more willingly, as I was still by no means satisfied as to whether it really was Rogojin or not.
"I cannot remember how long this lasted; I cannot recollect, either, whether consciousness forsook me at intervals, or not. But at last Rogojin rose, staring at me as intently as ever, but not smiling any longer,--and walking very softly, almost on tip- toes, to the door, he opened it, went out, and shut it behind him.
"I did not rise from my bed, and I don't know how long I lay with my eyes open, thinking. I don't know what I thought about, nor how I fell asleep or became insensible; but I awoke next morning after nine o'clock when they knocked at my door. My general orders are that if I don't open the door and call, by nine o'clock, Matreona is to come and bring my tea. When I now opened the door to her, the thought suddenly struck me--how could he have come in, since the door was locked? I made inquiries and found that Rogojin himself could not possibly have come in, because all our doors were locked for the night.
"Well, this strange circumstance--which I have described with so much detail--was the ultimate cause which led me to taking my final determination. So that no logic, or logical deductions, had anything to do with my resolve;--it was simply a matter of disgust.
"It was impossible for me to go on living when life was full of such detestable, strange, tormenting forms. This ghost had humiliated me;--nor could I bear to be subordinate to that dark, horrible force which was embodied in the form of the loathsome insect. It was only towards evening, when I had quite made up my mind on this point, that I began to feel easier.
我不想撒谎：这六个月里现实把我钩上了钩，有时候使我醉心得忘了我己被判了死刑，或者；最好说，使我不想去想这一点，甚至还做点事情。顺便谈谈我当时的情况。八个月前我病很重的时候，我断绝一切交往，撇下了我过去所有的同伴。因为我一直是个相当阴郁的人，所以同伴们也很容易就忘了我；当然，没有这一点他们也会忘掉我的。在家里我的处境，也就是在家庭里的处境，也是很孤独的，五个月前我把自己永远锁在里面，把自己跟家里的房间完全隔离开来。他们常常听我的，谁也不敢走进我的房间，除了在一定的时间来收拾房间和给我送餐。母亲在我的命令前总是战战兢兢，当我有时候决定放她进来时，她甚至不敢在我面前哭鼻子。为了我她经常打孩子们，不许他们喧闹，不许他们骚扰我；我真的常常抱怨他们发出的叫嚷声；想必，因此他们现在不喜．欢我！“忠实的科利亚，”我这么叫唤他，我想，我也把他折磨得够了。近来他也折磨我；这一切是自然的，之所以创造人，就是为了互相折磨。但是我发现，他是受我的焦躁易怒，仿佛事先就对自己立下誓言要宽恕一个病人；自然，这惹得我生气；但是，他好像忽然想出来要模仿公爵的“基督式的克制忍让”，这已经有点可笑了。这是个年轻，热情的男孩，当然，他模仿一切；但我有时觉得他应该用自己的头脑来生活。我很喜欢他。我也折磨苏里科夫，他住在我们楼上，从早到晚为人家的委托跑腿；我经常向他证明，他贫穷是他自己的过错，因此终于把他吓坏了，便不再上我这里来了，这是个很温顺的人，温顺到极点的人（注意：据说，温顺是一种可怕的力量；应该向公爵询问一下这个问题，这是他自己的说法）；但是，当我三月份上楼到他那儿去想看看，他们那里是怎么“冻死”（这是他的活）孩子的，我无意间对他婴儿的尸体发出一声冷笑，因为我又开始向苏里科夫解释，这是他“自己的过错”，而这个瘦小的可怜虫突然双唇哆嗦起来，一只手抓住了我的肩胯，另一只手向我指着门口，轻轻地，也就是几乎是低语着对我说：“请走吧！”我走了出来，我很喜欢这样，甚至喜欢他赶我出来那一会儿；但是后来回想起来时，他的话久久地使我产生一种沉重的印象，对他有一种奇怪的轻蔑的怜悯，而我本来是完全不想体受这种感情的。甚至在受到这样侮辱的时刻（我可是感到，我侮辱了他，虽然我并没有这种意图），甚至在这样的时刻这个人也不会发火！他当时嘴唇哆嗦完全不是因为愤恨，我可以发誓：他抓住我的手，说出那句绝妙的“请走吧”，绝对不是生气，尊严是有的，甚至溢于言表，甚至完全于他不相称（因此，说真的，这里有许多滑稽的东西），但是没有愤恨。也许，他不过是突然蔑视起我来了。从那时起，有两三次我在楼梯上遇见他，他突然在我面前摘下帽子，过去是从来不这样做的，但已经不再像过去那样停下来，而是不好意思地跑了过去。即使他蔑视我，那也仍然是用他的方式：“温顺地蔑视”。也许，他摘下帽子不过是出于害怕，是向自己女债主的儿子致意，因为他经常欠我母亲的钱，怎么也无法摆脱债务。这甚至是最可能的情况。我本想跟他解释，同时我肯定，过了１０分钟他便会来向我请求原谅；但我考虑，最好还是不去碰他。
就在这个时候，也就是苏里科夫“冻死”小孩那个时候，３月中光景，我忽然不知怎么感到病情轻多了，这种状况继续了两星期。我开始到外面走走，往在是在黄昏时分。我喜欢３月的黄昏，那时白天的气温开始变寒冷，煤气街灯也点亮了；有时我走得相当远。有一次，在六铺街有一个“贵族”模样的人黑暗中赶过了我，我未能看清楚他；他拿着纸包起来的一包东西，穿着一件短小难看的夹大衣－－单薄得跟季节不相称。当他走到我前面１０步远的街灯下时，我发现，有东西从他口袋里掉了出来。我急忙捡起来，捡得很及时，因为已经有一个穿长褂的人急急跑近前来，但是看见我手中的东西后，他没有争论，只是迅速地瞥了一眼我手中的东西，就从身边溜走了。这件东西是一只塞得鼓鼓囊囊的老式山羊皮大钱包；但不知为什么第一眼我就猜到，里面什么都有，唯独没有钱。丢了东西的行人已经走在我前面有４０步远并很快就消失在人群中。我跑上前去向他叫喊；但是因为除了“喂！”没别的可喊叫，因此他都没有转过身来。忽然他向左一扬，进了一幢房子的大门。等我跑进黑乎平的大门，已经不见人影。这幢房子非常大，是一座庞大的建筑，这类房子是冒险投机家为租给小户人家建造的，这种大楼有时一幢里有上百套住宅。当我军过大门后，我觉得，在大院子右后角落里仿佛有一个人在行走，不过在黑暗中我勉强才能看清楚。我跑到角落，看见有个进口通注楼梯。楼梯很窄，异常肮脏，根本没有灯光；但是可以听到，在高处还有个人顺着梯级往上跑，于是我也开始登楼梯，估计在人家给他开问的时候，我能赶上他。结果正是这样。楼梯每一段都很短，有多少段都数不清，因此我气喘得要命；在五楼有人开了门又关了门，我知道这一点时还差三段楼梯。等我跑到上面，在楼梯口平息一下气喘，找寻门铃，已经过了好几分钟。终于给我开了门，开门的是一个在小厨房里吹茶炊的女人；她默默地听完我的问题，当然，什么也没听懂，又默默地为我打开了通向隔壁一问房间的门，房间也很小，低矮得不得了，有几件必要的蹩脚家具，挂着帘幔的一张又宽又大的床，床上躺着“捷连季伊奇” （女人这么喊他），我觉得，他喝醉了。桌上铁制小灯台上的蜡烛头即将燃尽。一只半俄升的瓶子几乎已经倒空。捷连季伊奇躺着对我哼哼哈哈说了些什么，朝隔壁一扇门挥了下手，而那个女人已经走开了，因此我没有别的办法，只能去开那扇门。我这样做了，走进了另一个房间。
这个房间比前面那一问更窄小拥挤，因此我甚至不知道什么地方可以转身；角落里一张窄小的单人床占去了很多地方；其余的家具一共就是三把堆满了各种破衣服的普通椅子，漆布面的沙发前一张极普通的厨房用的木桌，因此在桌子和床之间人几乎已经无法通过。在桌上和前面那个房间一样的铁制小灯台上点着一根脂油做的蜡烛，而在床上一个很小的婴儿在细声啼哭，从哭声来看，大概生下来才三个星期；替他“更换”，也就是换尿布的是一个脸色苍白的有病的女人，好像还年轻，穿看极为随便的家常衣服，也许是产后刚开始起床；但孩子一个劲地哭个不停，等着喂他干枯的乳汁。沙发上睡着另一个孩子，是个３岁的小姑娘，好像盖着一件燕尾服：在桌旁站着一位穿着很破旧的带礼服的先生（他已经脱下了大衣，放在床上），正打开蓝色的纸包，里面包着两俄磅小麦面包和两根小香肠。此外，桌上还有一壶茶和凡块黑面包；床底下露出一只未上锁的箱子和装着一些破旧衣服的两个包裹。
总之，一派杂乱无常的景象。瞧上一眼我就觉得他们两人－－先生和太太－－是正派人，但是被贫穷弄到有失尊严的境地，以致杂乱无章终于压倒了一切与之作斗争的尝试，甚至把人弄到痛苦地需要在这种与日俱增的杂乱无章中寻找某种痛苦的仿佛向谁报复似的快感。
我走进去时，在我前面也是才进去并刚打开自己食品的这位先生正跟妻子又快又热烈地交谈着什么；虽然那女的还没换好尿布，可是已经哭泣起来；想必丈夫告诉的照例是坏消息。这位先生看样子有２８岁左右，他脸容干枯，围着一圈连鬓黑胡子，下巴刮得精尤，使我觉得相当体面，甚至今人喜欢；这张脸很抑郁，目光也阴沉，带有一种病态的十分容易被激怒的傲气，我走进去后，就发生了一场奇怪的风波。
有些人在自己好激动生气、易受委屈中获得一种异常的满足，尤其是在他那里受委屈达到最大限度的时候是这样（这总是发生得很快的）；在这种时刻甚至受委屈比不受委屈对他们来说好像觉得更痛快。这些易发火的人后来总是十分悔恨，痛苦异常，当然，如果他们是有头脑的人，能够明白他们发火超过了必要的十倍。这位先生谅异地望了我一会，而他妻子则很惊惧，仿佛有人会走进他们的房间是件令人可怕的奇事；但是突然他几乎是发狂似地扑向我；而我还没有来得及说上两句话，尤其在看到我穿得很体面时，想必他认为自己受到了莫大的侮辱，因为我竟敢如此不讲礼貌地窥看每一个角落并看见了他自己为此感到羞愧的整个杂乱无章的环境。当然，他也高兴有机会哪怕是对随便什么人发泄自己的愤恨，发泄自己的不走运，有一会儿我甚至以为他会过来要打架；他脸色发白，就像要人歇斯底里发作那样，把他妻子吓坏了。
“您怎么竟敢就这么走进来了？滚！”他嚷着，浑身打着颤，几乎说不出话来。但突然他看见了我手中拿着他的钱包。
“好像是您失落的，”我尽可能平静和平地说。（不过，也应该这样。）
他站在我面前惊恐慌万状，一度仿佛６都不明白；后来迅即抓住自己的侧袋，吓得张大了嘴，用手拍了一下脑门。
“天哪！您在什么地方找到的？怎么找到的？”
我用最简短的话，尽量更平淡地说明，怎么捡起钱包，怎么奔跑和叫他，最后，怎么凭猜测，跟在他后面几乎是摸索着上了楼梯。
“哦，天哪！”他转向妻子发出一声惊叹，“这里有我们的全部证件，有我最后的一些器械，这里有所有的……哦，亲爱的先生，您知道吗，您为我做了什么？否则我就完蛋了！”
与此同时我抓住了门把手，打算不回答就离开；但是我自己气喘吁吁，突然我的激动引发出一阵极其强烈的咳嗽，几乎连站都站不稳。我看见这位先生到处乱钻，想为我找一把空椅子，最后他从一把椅子上抓起破旧衣服丢到地上，急忙把椅子挪给我，小心翼翼地安顿我坐下，但我的咳嗽继续着，不停地又咳了足足３分钟。等我明白过来，他已经坐在我旁边的另一张椅子上（大概，也把破旧衣服从那上面扔到地上），专注地凝视着我。
“您，好像……有病？”他用通常是医生着手治病人看病时用的口吻说，“我自己……是搞医的（他没有说是大夫）”，说完这话，不知为什么对我指了一下房间，仿佛是对自己目前的境况表示抗议，“我看得出来，您……”
“我有肺病，”我尽可能简短地说，并站起身。
他马上就跳起来。
“也许，您是夸大了……采取些治疗手段……”
他显得十分慌乱，不知所措，仿佛没有恢复常态，左手持着那只大皮夹。
“哦，您别担心”，我抓住门把手，又打断他说，”Ｂ大夫（我这时又把Ｂ大夫插了进来）上星期给我检查过，我的病情已经确诊了。对不起……”
我本来又想打开门，撇下我这位心怀感激的又窘困异常，羞愧难当的大夫，但是可恶的咳嗽偏偏又一次袭住了我。这时我这位大夫就坚持要我再坐下休息一会；他向妻子示意，她就在原地对我说了几句感激和欢迎的话。与此同时她很不好意思，甚至在地苍白蜡黄干瘪的脸上浮现出红晕。我留了下来，但是显示出每秒钟都生怕使他们感到拘束的样子（这是应该的）。我这位大夫终因悔恨而痛苦不安，这我看得出来。
“如果我……”他开始说，但不时中断和转换话题，“我非常感激您，又非常对不起您……我……您也看见了……”他又指了指房间，“目前我处于这么一种境况……”
“哦，”我说，“不用看；自然，您大概丢了差事，来申诉和重找职位吧。”
“您怎么……知道的？”他惊奇地问。
“一眼就看得出来，”我不由自主地用嘲笑的口吻回答说，“有许多人满怀希望从外省到这里来，到处奔走，就是这样生活的。”
他突然双唇颤动着急切地说了起来；他开始抱怨，开始叙述，我承认，他吸引住了我；我在他那里坐了几乎１小时。他对我讲了自己的经历，不过是很平常的经历。他是外省的医生，有公职，但是那里有人搞起了阴谋，甚至把他妻子也牵连了进去。他很自负，也很气忿；但是省里长官人选的变动有利于他的敌人；他们挖他的墙角，说他的坏话；他就丢了职位，用最后一点钱来到彼得堡申诉；在彼得堡，自然，很长时问都不睬他，后来听了他的申诉，接着便是拒绝，接着又以许诺来诱惑，接着则是严词答复，后来又让让他把什么情况写个说明，接着又拒绝接受他写的东西，要他递呈文，--总之，他已经奔走了四个多月，所有的钱都吃光了；妻子的最后几件衣服也当了，而这时又生下了孩子，而且……而且“今天呈文最终被拒绝了，而我几乎连面包也没有，一无所有，妻子刚生过孩子、我，我……”
他从椅子上跳起来转过身去。他妻子在角落里哭泣，孩子又开始啼器。我掏出笔记本，记下一些情况，当我写完站起身的时候，他站在我面前，既害怕又好奇地望着我。
“我记下了您的名字。”我对他说，“嗯，还有其他一些情况，如任职地点，你们省长的名字，日期，月份等等。我有一位中学同学，姓巴赫渗托夫，他有个伯父彼得·马特维那维奇·已赫穆托夫，是四等文官，现在当什么长……”
“彼得·马特维那维奇·巴赫穆托夫！”我这位医生差不多打起颤来，惊呼道，“要知道一切几乎就取决于他呢！”
实际上，在我这位医生的遭遇以及我无意中促成的结局中，一切都是巧合并得到了顺利解决，仿佛故意这样安排似的，完全像小说里写的那样。我对这对可怜的人儿说，他们尽量不要对我抱有任何希望，我自己是个贫困的中学生（我故意夸大了自己的卑微；其实我早已中学毕业，不是中学生了）他们没必要知道我的名字，但是我马上就去瓦西里耶夫斯基岛去找我的同学巴赫穆托夫，因为我确切知道，他那四等文官的伯父是个独身者，没有孩子，对他的侄子喜欢至极，把他奉若神明，将他看做是自己家族的最后一个苗裔，因此“也许我的同学能为你们，为我做点什么，当然，是在他伯父面前……”
“只要允许我向大人说明情况！只要能有幸进行口头说明！”他高声嚷着，像患热病那样浑身打颤，眼睛炯炯发光。他是这么说的：能有幸。我又再次表示，事情也许不会成功，一切也就将成为空话，我还补充说，如果明天上午我不到他们那儿去，那也就是说，事情完蛋了，他们就不必等了。他们一再鞠躬送我出来，几乎激动得有些精神失常。我永远不会忘记他们脸上的表情，我雇了马车，立即出发去瓦西里耶夫斯基岛。
我跟这个巴赫穆托夫在中学里有好几年经常处于敌对状态。他在我们中间被认为是贵族，至少我是这么叫他的。他穿着很漂亮，乘自己的马车，但他一点也不夸耀自己，总之是个非常好的同学，总是非常决活，有时甚至很俏皮，虽然他智力完全不高，尽管他在班上总得第一；我却无论哪方面从来也没有当过第一。所有的同学除我一人，全都喜欢他。在这几年中他曾经有几次来接近我，但每次我都阴沉着脸，气冲冲地不理睬他。现在我已经有一年没有看见他了；他在上大学。８点多钟我进去见他（规矩挺大：仆人通报了我），开始他惊奇地迎接我，甚至完全不表示欢迎，但马上就变开心了，望着我，突然哈哈大笑起来。
“捷连季耶夫，您怎么想起要到我这儿来的。”他嚷了起来，还是用平时那种亲切随便的口气，有时毫不顾忌，但从来也不伤害人，我喜欢他就是这一点，但是恨他也是这一点。“但是，这是怎么啦，”他惊恐地叫了起来，“您病成这个样子！”
咳嗽又一次折磨我，我倒在椅子上，勉强喘过气来。
“别担心，我有肺病，”我说，“我对您有个请求。”
他惊异地坐了下来，我马上把医生的全部遭遇对他做了叙述，并说明，他本人对他伯父有着非同一般的影响，也许，他能做点什么。
“我做，一定做，明天就向伯父进攻；我甚至很高兴，而且您把这一切讲得这么好……但是，捷连季耶夫，您这是怎么想起来找我的呢？”
“这件事很大程度上取决于您的伯父，再说，巴赫穆托夫，我们过去总是敌人，而因为您是个高尚的人，因此我想，您不会拒绝敌人的，”我含着讽刺说。
“就像拿破仑向英国求助一样！”他哈哈大笑着叫着，“我会做的，会做的！如果可以的话，甚至现在就去！”他看见我一本正经严肃地起身，急忙补充说。
确实，这件事意想不到地办得不能再好了，过了一个半月我们的医生重又得到了职位，是在另一个省，领到了路费，甚至还有补助。我怀疑经常去他们那儿的巴赫穆托夫（当时我却因此故意不去他们那里，对跑来看我的医生态度也几乎很冷漠），我怀疑巴赫穆托夫甚至劝说他们接受他的借款。这六个星期里我见到巴赫穆托夫两次，第三次碰面是在给医生送行的时候。这次饯别巴赫穆托夫安排在自己家里，以喝香槟用晚餐的形式进行。医生的妻子也出席了，不过，她很快就回去照料小孩了。这是５月初一个晴朗的傍晚，太阳像一个巨大的球降落到海湾里。巴赫穆托夫送我回家；我们顺着尼古拉耶夫斯基桥漫步，两人都有几分醉意。巴赫穆托夫谈到自己欢喜的心情，因为这件事了结得这么好，他还为什么事而感激我，他解释说，在做了这件好事后现在他是多么愉决，他相信，一切功劳都归于我，而现在许多人告诫和宣传做个别件把好事是丝毫没有意义的，这是没有道理的。我也想谈得不得了。
“谁要是否定个别的‘善行’，”我开始说，“谁就是否定人的本性和蔑视他个人的人格。但是组织‘社会的慈善事来夕和个人自由问题--这是两个不同的同时又不互相排斥的问题。个别的善行将永远存在，因为这是个人的需要，是一个人直接影响另一个人的有现实意义的需要。在莫斯科有一个老人，是位‘将军’，也就是四等文官，有德国名字；他整整一生都在狱堡和犯人中奔波；每一批流放去西伯利亚的犯人都事先知道，在麻雀山将会有一个‘将军老头’去看望他们。他做自己的事认真和虔诚到了极点；他出现在哪里，总要走遍每一排围住他的流放犯，在每个人面前停下来。详细询问每个人的需求，他几乎也不向谁进行说教，把他们大家称为“亲爱的”，他给他们钱，寄必需的用品--绑腿、裹脚布、麻布，有时带些劝人为善的小册子来，分给每个识字的罪犯，他充分相信，他们会在路上读这些书，而且识字的会念给不识字的听。他很少询问犯了什么罪，如果罪犯自己开始讲，他也就听着。他对所有的罪犯都一视同仁，不加区别。他跟他们说话就像跟兄弟一样，但是他们自己最后都把他看做父亲，如果他发现哪个流放的女人手上抱着孩子，他就走近前去，对孩子爱抚一阵，用手指打几个榧子逗他笑。多年来他就是这样做的直至死去；后来整个俄罗斯、整个西伯利亚都知道他，也就是所有的罪犯都知道他。有一个过去在西伯利亚呆过的人对我说，自己就是个见证人，那些最冥顽不化的罪犯也常回忆起将军，其实呢，将军去看望一批批犯人时，给每个兄弟的钱难得超过２０戈比的。确实，他们回忆起他并非那么炽热或者非常正经，有一个‘倒霉鬼’打死过１０个人，害过６个孩子，仅仅是为了得到一种满足（据说是有这样的人），突然什么时候，也许整整２０年里也就这么一回，他忽然无缘无故会发出一声长叹并且说。‘现在将军老头怎么样了，还在不在世？’说这话时，也许还会付之一笑，--就此而已。您又怎么知道， 他二十年未忘怀的这位将军老头，在他心中永远播下了一颗什么种子、您又怎么知道，巴赫穆托夫，一个人亲近另一个人，这对被亲近的人的命运会有什么样的意义？……要知道这时有整个人生和多得不计其数的我们所不知道的岔道，最优秀的棋手，他们中最机智的也只能预料后面几步棋；一位能顶上士步棋的法国棋手，已被当作神奇的事而大写特写了。而人生又有多少步，我们不知道的事又有多少？当您撒下您的种子，当您撒下您的‘善行’、无论哪种形式的好事，您就奉献了您的一部分个性，同时也接收了别人的一部分个性；你们彼此互相了解；再稍加一注意，您已经得到知识、最意外的发现作为补偿。最后，您一定会把您所做的事看作是门科学，它将会把您的整个生命都吸引住，还能充实整个生命。从另一方面来说，所有您的思想，所有被您撒下、也许已经被您遗忘的种子，将会得到体现和发育成长；从您那里有所获的人将会把它们传递给别的人。您怎么知道，您将怎样参与未来决定人类的命运？如果知识和这项工作的整个生命力最后将使您上升到能撒下巨大的种于、能给世界留下伟大的思想作遗产，那么……”诸如此类的话，我当时说了许多。
“可是与此同时倒想想，你却要失去生命！”巴赫穆托夫激烈地责备着向什么人嚷道。
那时我们站在桥上，胳膊时撑在栏杆上，望着涅瓦河。
“您知道吗，我想到什么了？”我更向栏杆俯下身去，说。
“难道想要投河？”巴赫穆托夫几乎惊恐地嚷了起来。也许，他在我的脸上看出了我的思想。
“不，暂时还只是下面这样一种想法，现在我还剩两三个月可活，也许是四个月；但是，比方说，一共还有两个月，而假如我又非常想做一件好事，这需要工作、奔走和张罗，就像我们的医生那样的事，在这种情况下因为我剩下的时间不够，只能放弃做这件事，另找一件‘好事’，小一点的，找力所能及的（如果这么强烈地吸引我去做好的话）。您一定认为，这是个可笑的想法！”
可怜的巴赫舟托夫非常为我忧急不安；他送我到家门口，而且非常知趣，没有说一次安慰话，几乎一直沉默着。跟我告别的时候，他热情地握着我的手，请求允许他来看望我。我回答他说，如果他是作为“安慰者”到我这儿来（因为即使他沉默不语，他来也仍然是作为“安慰者”，我对他说明这一点），那么他每次这样做就将会使我更多地想到死。他耸了耸肩膀，但同意了我；我们分手时相当客气，我甚至没有料到。
但是这个晚上和这个夜里撒下了我“最后信念”的第一颗种子。我贪婪地抓住这个新思想，贪婪地分析它所有的细微之处和各种形态（我整夜没有睡着），我越是深入这思想，越是接受它，就越是感到惧怕。可怕的恐惧终于袭往了我，在接下来的日子里也不离去。有时候、在想到我的这种经常性的惊惧时，我又会因为新的恐惧的吓得浑身冰凉，根据这种恐惧我可以得出结论，我的“最后信念”印在头脑里太深刻了，一定会有个解决。但是要解决，我又缺少决心。