The Complete Works of Fyodor Dostoyevsky: Novels, Short Stories and Autobiographical Writings. Федор Достоевский
in the passage Mavra seemed to be wrangling with some one.
“Stay, Natasha, who’s that?” I asked. “Listen.”
She listened with an incredulous smile, and suddenly turned fearfully white.
“My God! Who’s there?” she said, almost inaudibly.
She tried to detain me, but I went into the passage to Mavra. Yes! It actually was Alyosha. He was questioning Mavra about something. She refused at first to admit him.
“Where have you turned up from?” she asked, with an air of authority. “Well, what have you been up to? All right, then, go in, go in! You won’t come it over me with your butter! Go in! I wonder what you’ve to say for yourself!”
“I’m not afraid of anyone! I’m going in!” said Alyosha, somewhat disconcerted, however.
“Well, go in then! You’re a sauce-box!”
“Well, I’m going in! Ah! you’re here, too!” he said, catching sight of me. “How nice it is that you’re here Well, here I am, you see…. What had I better do?”
“Simply go in,” I answered. “What are you afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid of anything, I assure you, for upon my word I’m not to blame. You think I’m to blame? You’ll see; I’ll explain it directly. Natasha, can I come in?” he cried with a sort of assumed boldness, standing before the closed door. No one answered.
“What’s the matter?” he asked uneasily.
“Nothing; she was in there just now,” I answered. “Can anything …”
Alyosha opened the door cautiously and looked timidly about the room. There was no one to be seen.
Suddenly he caught sight of her in the corner, between the cupboard and the window. She stood as though in hiding, more dead than alive. As I recall it now I can’t help smiling. Alyosha went up to her slowly and warily.
“Natasha, what is it? How are you, Natasha?” he brought out timidly, looking at her with a sort of dismay.
“Oh, it’s all right!” she answered in terrible confusion, as though she were in fault. “You … will you have some tea?”
“Natasha, listen.” Alyosha began, utterly overwhelmed.
“You’re convinced perhaps that I’m to blame. But I’m not, not a bit. You’ll see; I’ll tell you directly.”
“What for?” Natasha whispered. “No, no, you needn’t…. Come, give me your hand and … it’s over … the same as before… .”
And she came out of the corner. A flush began to come into her cheeks. She looked down as though she were afraid to glance at Alyosha.
“Good God!” he cried ecstatically. “If I really were to blame I shouldn’t dare look at her after that. Look, look!” he exclaimed, turning to me, “she thinks I am to blame; everything’s against me; all appearances are against me! I haven’t been here for five days! There are rumours that I’m with my betrothed — and what? She has forgiven me already! Already she says, ‘Give me your hand and it’s over’! Natasha, my darling, my angel! It’s not my fault, and you must know that! Not the least little bit! Quite the contrary! Quite the contrary “But … but you were to be there now…. You were invited there now …. How is it you’re here? Wh-what time is it?”
“Half-past ten! I have been there … but I said I wasn’t well and came away — and — and it’s the first time, the first time I’ve been free these five days. It’s the first time I’ve been able to tear myself away and come to you, Natasha. That is, I could have come before, but I didn’t on purpose. And why? You shall know directly. I’ll explain; that’s just what I’ve come for, to explain. Only this time I’m really not a bit to blame, not a bit, not a bit!”
Natasha raised her head and looked at him…. But the eyes that met her were so truthful, his face was so full of joy, sincerity and goodhumour, that it was impossible to disbelieve him. I expected that they would cry out and rush into each other’s arms, as had often happened before at such reconciliations. But Natasha seemed overcome by her happiness; she let her head sink on her breast and … began crying softly…. Then Alyosha couldn’t restrain himself. He threw himself at her feet.
He kissed her hands, her feet. He seemed frantic. I pushed an easy-chair towards her. She sank into it. Her legs were giving way beneath her.
PART II
CHAPTER I
A MINUTE LATER we were all laughing as though we were crazy.
“Let me explain; let me explain!” cried Alyosha, his ringing voice rising above our laughter. “They think it’s just as usual …that I’ve come with some nonsense…. I say, I’ve something most interesting to tell you. But will you ever be quiet?”
He was extremely anxious to tell his story. One could see from his face that he had important news. But the dignified air he assumed in his naive pride at the possession of such news tickled Natasha at once. I could not help laughing too. And the angrier he was with us the more we laughed. Alyosha’s vexation and then childish despair reduced us at last to the condition of Gogol’s midshipman who roared with laughter if one held up one’s finger. Mavra, coming out of the kitchen, stood in the doorway and looked at us with grave indignation, vexed that Alyosha had not come in for a good “wigging” from Natasha, as she had been eagerly anticipating for the last five days, and that we were all so merry instead.
At last Natasha, seeing that our laughter was hurting Alyosha’s feelings, left off laughing.
“What do you want to tell us?” she asked.
“Well, am I to set the samovar?” asked Mavra, interrupting Alyosha without the slightest ceremony.
“Be off, Mavra, be off!” he cried, waving his hands at her, in a hurry to get rid of her. “I’m going to tell you everything that has happened, is happening, and is going to happen, because I know all about it. I see, my friends, you want to know where I’ve been for the last five days — that’s what I want to tell you, but you won’t let me. To begin with, I’ve been deceiving you all this time, Natasha, I’ve been deceiving you for ever so long, and that’s the chief thing.”
“Deceiving me?”
“Yes, deceiving you for the last month; I had begun it before my father came back. Now the time has come for complete openness. A month ago, before father came back, I got an immense letter from him, and I said nothing to either of you about it. In his letter he told me, plainly and simply — and, I assure you, in such a serious tone that I was really alarmed — that my engagement was a settled thing, that my fiancee was simply perfection; that of course I wasn’t good enough for her, but that I must marry her all the same, and so I must be prepared to put all this nonsense out of my head, and so on, and so on — we know, of course, what he means by nonsense. Well, that letter I concealed from you.”
“You didn’t!” Natasha interposed. “See how he flatters himself! As a matter of fact he told us all about it at once. I remember how obedient and tender you were all at once, and wouldn’t leave my side, as though you were feeling guilty about something, and you told us the whole letter in fragments.”
“Impossible; the chief point I’m sure I didn’t tell you. Perhaps you both guessed something, but that’s your affair. I didn’t tell you. I kept it secret and was fearfully unhappy about it.”
“I