The Idiot (31 page)

Afanasy Ivanovich fell silent with the same solid dignity with which he had begun the story. They noticed that Nastasya Filippovna’s eyes had begun to glitter peculiarly, and her lips even trembled when Afanasy Ivanovich had finished. Everyone looked at them both with curiosity.

‘Ferdyshchenko’s been cheated! He’s been cheated! Yes, that’s what it is, cheated!’ Ferdyshchenko exclaimed in a plaintive voice, realizing that he could, and must, insert a word or two here, for the sake of effect.

‘And whose fault is it you didn’t catch on? Learn from clever people!’ the almost triumphant Darya Alexeyevna (an old and loyal friend and accomplice of Totsky’s) snapped at him.

‘You’re right, Afanasy Ivanovich, it’s a very boring parlour game, and we must quickly end it,’ Nastasya Filippovna said carelessly. ‘I shall tell the story I promised to tell, and then let’s play cards.’

‘But first the promised anecdote!’ the general approved warmly.

‘Prince,’ Nastasya Filippovna said, suddenly addressing him sharply and unexpectedly, ‘look: here are my old friends, the general and Afanasy Ivanovich, they keep wanting to give me away in marriage. Tell me, what do you think: should I get married or not? Whatever you say, I shall do it.’

Afanasy Ivanovich turned pale, the general went as stiff as a post; everyone stared, craning their necks. Ganya froze on the spot.

‘Married to ... to whom?’ the prince asked with a sinking heart.

‘To Gavrila Ardalionovich Ivolgin,’ Nastasya Filippovna continued, sharply, firmly and clearly as before.

Several seconds of silence went by; the prince seemed to be making an effort to get the words out, as though a dreadful weight were crushing his chest.

‘N-no ... don’t!’ he whispered, at last, drawing breath with an effort.

‘Then that is how it shall be! Gavrila Ardalionovich!’ she addressed him imperiously, and almost with triumph. ‘You heard the prince’s decision? Well, it also contains my reply; and let this be an end of the matter for once and for all!’

‘Nastasya Filippovna!’ Afanasy Ivanovich said in a trembling voice.

‘Nastasya Filippovna!’ the general enunciated, in a voice of persuasion, but also of anxiety.

Everyone began to stir and grow uneasy.

‘What’s wrong, gentlemen?’ she continued, looking intently at her guests as though in surprise. ‘Why are you so alarmed? And what looks you all have on your faces!’

‘But ... remember, Nastasya Filippovna,’ Totsky muttered, hesitantly, ‘you gave a promise ... a completely voluntary one, and could to some extent have spared us this ... I find it difficult and ... am of course, embarrassed, but ... In short, now, at a moment like this, and in front of ... of people, and to ... to settle a serious matter by a parlour game like this, a matter of honour and of the heart ... on which depends ...’

‘I don’t understand you, Afanasy Ivanovich; you really are quite confused. For one thing, what you mean “in front of people”? Are we not in splendid, intimate company? And why “a parlour game”? I really did want to tell my anecdote, well, now I have told it; it’s a good one, isn’t it? And why do you say that it’s not serious? It is serious, isn’t it? You heard me say to the prince: “Whatever you say, it shall be so”; if he had said yes, I would at once have given my consent, but he said
no,
and I refused. At that moment my whole life hung by a thread; what could be more serious?’

‘But the prince, why is the prince involved in it? And who is the prince, after all?’ muttered the general, almost unable to control his indignation that the prince should have such a positively offensive authority.

‘Well, for me the prince means this: he is the first man I have ever met in my whole life in whom I can believe as one who is truly devoted. He believed in me at first sight, and I trust him.’

‘It only remains for me to thank Nastasya Filippovna for the exceeding delicacy with which she ... has treated me,’ a pale Ganya said at last in a trembling voice, and with twisted lips. ‘Of course, it was what I deserved ... But ... the prince ... The prince’s role in this matter ...’

‘Is to get hold of the seventy-five thousand?’ Nastasya Filippovna suddenly interrupted. ‘Is that what you meant? Don’t deny it, that’s just what you meant! Afanasy Ivanovich, I forgot to add: you can take that seventy-five thousand in the knowledge that I am setting you free for nothing. Enough! You too need to draw breath! Nine years and three months! Tomorrow everything shall be different, but today is my birthday and I am in charge for the first time in my whole life! General, you can take your pearl necklace, too, give it to your wife, here it is; and as from tomorrow I am moving out of this apartment for good. And there will be no more soirees, gentlemen!’

Having said this, she suddenly got up, as if wishing to leave.

‘Nastasya Filippovna! Nastasya Filippovna!’ was heard from every side. They all began to grow agitated, they all rose from their seats; they all surrounded her, they all listened to these jerky, feverish, frenzied words with anxiety; they all sensed some kind of disorder, no one could make head or tail of it, no one could understand anything of it. At that moment there was suddenly a loud, resonant ringing of the bell, just as there had been earlier at Ganechka’s apartment.

‘Aha-a! This is the denouement! At last! It’s half-past eleven!’ exclaimed Nastasya Filippovna. ‘Please sit down, ladies and gentlemen, this is the dénouement!’

Saying this, she herself sat down. A strange laughter quivered on her lips. She sat silently, in feverish expectation, looking at the door.

‘Rogozhin and the hundred thousand, there can be no doubt,’ Ptitsyn muttered to himself.

Katya the room maid came in, much alarmed.

‘Lord only knows what’s going on out there, Nastasya Filippovna, about ten men have barged in, and they’re all drunk, ma’am, asking to be let in here, they say it’s Rogozhin, and that you know about it.’

‘That’s true, Katya, let them in at once, then.’

‘Surely ... not all of them, Nastasya Filippovna, ma’am? I mean, they’re in a shocking state! Awful!’

‘Let them all in, all of them, Katya, don’t be afraid, every single one, otherwise they’ll ignore you and come in anyway. What a noise they’re making, just like this morning. Gentlemen, I suppose you may be offended,’ she addressed the guests, ‘that I’m receiving such company in your presence? I’m very sorry and I apologize, but I should very, very much like you to be my witnesses to this dénouement, although, of course, it’s as you please ...’

The guests continued to show bewilderment, whisper and exchange glances, but it became perfectly clear that all this had been calculated and arranged beforehand and that Nastasya Filippovna — although she had, of course, taken leave of her senses — would not be deflected from her course. They were all racked with curiosity. Moreover, no one there was likely to be too intimidated. There were only two ladies: Darya Alexeyevna, the pert lady, who had seen all manner of things and would be hard to disconcert, and the beautiful, but silent stranger. But the silent stranger would hardly understand anything: she was a visiting German, and knew nothing of the Russian language; in addition, she seemed to be as stupid as she was beautiful. She was new here, and it was already the accepted thing to invite her to certain soirees, in the most extravagant attire, with her hair done up as for a fashion show, and have her sit like a charming picture in order to adorn the soiree in just the same way as some people obtain from friends, for a single evening, a picture, a vase, a statue or a screen in order to adorn their soirees. As for the men, Ptitsyn, for example, was a friend of Rogozhin’s; Ferdyshchenko was like a fish in water; Ganechka was still unable to pull himself together, but had a dim though irresistible sense of the need for him to stand at his pillory to the end; the old schoolmaster, who had little idea of what it was all about, was very nearly in tears and literally trembled with fear as he noticed the extraordinary state of anxiety in those around him and in Nastasya Filippovna, whom he worshipped like his grandchild; but he would rather have died than abandon her at such a moment. As for Afanasy Ivanovich, he could not, of course, compromise himself with such adventures; but he had too much at stake in the matter, even though it had taken such a crazy turn; and in any case, Nastasya Filippovna had dropped a few remarks in his regard which ha
d been such that it would be impossible for him to leave without having finally cleared up the matter. He resolved to stay to the end and keep silent altogether, remaining solely as an observer, something that was, of course, demanded by his dignity. Only General Yepanchin, who had just before this been deeply insulted by the unceremonious and ridiculous return of his present to him, might possibly be even more insulted by all these extraordinary eccentricities or, for example, by Rogozhin’s arrival; and indeed a man like him had already sunk low enough by bringing himself to sit beside Ptitsyn and Ferdyshchenko; but what the power of passion was able to do was, at last, overcome by a feeling of obligation, a sense of duty, rank and self-respect, so that Rogozhin and his company, in his excellency’s presence, at any rate, were out of the question.

‘Oh, General,’ Nastasya Filippovna at once interrupted him, no sooner had he addressed her with his statement, ‘I forgot! But rest assured that I had foreseen your position. If you feel so insulted, I won’t insist and won’t detain you, though I very much wanted to see you here with me now. At any rate, I thank you very much for your acquaintance and flattering attention, but if you’re afraid ...’

‘Forgive me, Nastasya Filippovna,’ the general exclaimed in a fit of chivalrous magnanimity, ‘but think who you are addressing! I shall remain beside you now out of devotion, and if, for example, there is any danger ... What’s more, I confess that I’m extremely curious. All I meant was that they will spoil the carpets and may possibly break something ... And they shouldn’t be here at all, in my opinion, Nastasya Filippovna!’

‘Here’s Rogozhin!’ proclaimed Ferdyshchenko.

‘What do you think, Afanasy Ivanovich,’ the general managed to whisper quickly. ‘Has she taken leave of her senses? I mean, not metaphorically, but in the real medical sense, eh?’

‘I always told you she was inclined that way,’ Afanasy Ivanovich whispered slyly.

‘And a fever as
well ...’

Rogozhin’s company was made up of almost the same members as in the morning; the only additions were a disreputable old man who had once been the editor of some sort of indecent newspaper that published exposes, and of whom the anecdote circulated that he had pawned his gold teeth, and a retired second lieutenant, a determined rival and competitor, in trade and calling, with that morning’s gentleman with the fists, and completely unknown to any of the Rogozhinites, but picked up in the street on the sunny side of Nevsky Prospect, where he was stopping passers-by and, in the style of Marlinsky,
¹
begging for assistance on the insidious pretext that he himself ‘used to give beggars fifteen roubles each in his day’. The two rivals at once took a hostile attitude to each other. The earlier gentleman with the fists even considered himself insulted after the reception into the company of the ‘beggar’ and, being taciturn by nature, merely growled from time to time like a bear, looking with profo
und contempt on the sycophancy and advances of the ‘beggar’, who turned out to be a worldly, political fellow. From the look of it, the second lieutenant was likely to gain more ‘in the business’ by means of skill and resourcefulness rather than by strength, and was indeed shorter of stature than the fisted gentleman. Tactfully, without entering into open argument, but boasting horribly, he had already several times alluded to the superiority of English boxing and, in a word, turned out to be a Westernizer of the purest sort. At the word ‘boxing’ the fisted gentleman merely smiled with bristling contempt and, for his part, not deeming his rival worthy of an open debate, now and then quietly displayed, as if by accident, or, rather, allowed to be displayed now and then, a wholly national object — an enormous fist, sinewy, knotted, covered in a kind of reddish down — and it became clear to everyone that if this profoundly national object were to land on its target without error, it would reduce it to a jelly.

Besides, none of them was well and truly ‘primed’, as earlier, this as a result of efforts on the part of Rogozhin himself, who had had his visit to Nastasya Filippovna in view all day. He himself had managed to sober up almost completely, but was on the other hand almost stupefied by all the impressions he had endured on this outrageous day of his life, a day that was unlike any other. One thing only remained constantly in view for him, in his memory and heart, at every minute, at every moment. For the sake of this one thing he had spent the whole time, from five o’clock in the afternoon to eleven at night, in a state of boundless anguish and anxiety, dealing with various Kinders and Biskups, who had also nearly gone mad, rushing about like scalded cats on his behalf. And yet, even so, they had managed to raise the hundred thousand roubles in cash to which Nastasya Filippovna had fleetingly, mockingly and very vaguely referred, at rates of interest which even Biskup himself, from shame, talked about with Kinder not aloud, but only in a whisper.

As earlier, Rogozhin strode out at the front, with the rest of them following after him, though still somewhat fearfully. Principally, they were afraid of Nastasya Filippovna. Some of them even thought, for some reason, that they would all be promptly ‘kicked downstairs’. Among those who thought this way was Zalyozhev, the dandy and vanquisher of hearts. But the others, and especially the gentleman with the fists, viewed Nastasya Filippovna with the most profound contempt and even with hatred, and had gone to her abode as to a siege. However, the magnificent appointment of the first two rooms, the objects they had never heard of or seen before, the rare furniture, the pictures, the enormous statue of Venus — all this made on them an irresistible impression of reverence and even almost of fear. This did not, however, prevent them all from, gradually, and with impudent curiosity, in spite of their fear, crowding after Rogozhin into the drawing room; but when the gentleman with the fists, the ‘beggar’, and several others noticed General Yepanchin among the guests, they were at first so discouraged that they even began to gradually retreat into the other
room. Only Lebedev was sufficiently courageous and convinced, and strode along beside Rogozhin, realizing the significance of a million four hundred thousand in cash and a hundred thousand now, this very moment, in hand. It should, however, be noted that all of them, even the expert Lebedev, were somewhat unsure about the limits and bounds of their powers and whether everything was now permitted to them, or not. At some moments Lebedev was ready to swear that it was, but at others felt an uneasy need to call to mind, just in case, some encouraging and reassuring articles of civil law.