The Complete Works of Fyodor Dostoyevsky: Novels, Short Stories and Autobiographical Writings. Федор Достоевский

The Complete Works of Fyodor Dostoyevsky: Novels, Short Stories and Autobiographical Writings - Федор Достоевский


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lost her balance. Every piece of news upset her. Her anxiety over Natasha was ruining her health and her nerves.

      The old man came in in his dressing-gown and slippers. He complained of being feverish, but looked fondly at his wife, and all the time that I was there he was looking after her like a nurse peeping into her face, and seeming a little timid with her in fact There was a great deal of tenderness in the way he looked at her. He was frightened at her illness; he felt he would be bereaved of everything on earth if he lost her.

      I sat with them for an hour. When I took leave he came into the passage with me and began speaking of Nellie. He seriously thought of taking her into his house to fill the place of his daughter, Natasha. He began consulting me how to predispose Anna Andreyevna in favour of the plan. With special curiosity he questioned me about Nellie, asking whether I had found out anything fresh about her. I told him briefly, my story made an impression on him.

      “We’ll speak of it again,” he said decisively. “And meanwhile…but I’ll come to you myself, as soon as I’m a little better. Then we’ll settle things.”

      At twelve o’clock precisely I reached Masloboev’s. To my intense amazement the first person I met when I went in was Prince Valkovsky. He was putting on his overcoat in the entry, and Masloboev was officiously helping him and handing him his cane. He had already told me that he was acquainted with the prince, but yet this meeting astonished me extremely.

      Prince Valkovsky seemed confused when he saw me.

      “Ach, that’s you!” he cried, with somewhat exaggerated warmth. “What a meeting, only fancy! But I have just heard from Mr. Masloboev that he knew you. I’m glad, awfully glad to have met you. I was just wishing to see you, and hoping to call on you as soon as possible. You will allow me? I have a favour to ask of you. Help me, explain our present position. You understand, of course, that I am referring to what happened yesterday…. You are an intimate friend; you have followed the whole course of the affair; you have influence… I’m awfully sorry that I can’t stay now…. Business…. But in a few days, and perhaps sooner, I shall have the pleasure of calling on you. But now….”

      He shook my hand with exaggerated heartiness, exchanged a glance with Masloboev, and went away.

      “Tell me for mercy’s sake…,” I began, as I went into the room.

      “I won’t tell you anything,” Masloboev interrupted, hurriedly snatching up his cap and going towards the entry. “I’ve business. I must run, too, my boy. I’m late.”

      “Why, you wrote to me yourself to come at twelve o’clock!”

      “What if I did write twelve o’clock? I wrote to you yesterday, but to-day I’ve been written to myself, and such a piece of business that my head’s in a whirl! They’re waiting for me. Forgive me, Vanya, the only thing I can suggest to you by way of satisfaction is to punch my head for having troubled you for nothing. If you want satisfaction, punch it; only, for Christ’s sake, make haste! Don’t keep me.

      I’ve business. I’m late….”

      “What should I punch your head for? Make haste then if you’ve business…things unforeseen may happen to anyone. Only….”

      “Yes, as for that only, let me tell you,” he interrupted, dashing out into the entry and putting on his coat (I followed his example). “I have business with you, too; very important business; that’s why I asked you to come; it directly concerns you and your interests. And as it’s impossible to tell you about it in one minute now, for goodness’ sake promise me to come to me to-day at seven o’clock, neither before nor after. I’ll be at home.”

      “To-day,” I said uncertainly. “Well, old man, I did mean this evening to go….”

      “Go at once, dear boy. where you meant to go this evening, and come this evening to me. For you can’t imagine, Vanya, the things I have to tell you.”

      “But I say, what is it? I confess you make me curious.”

      Meanwhile we had come out of the gate and were standing on the pavement.

      “So you’ll come?” he asked insistently.

      “I’ve told you I will.”

      “No, give me your word of honour.”

      “Foo! what a fellow! Very well, my word of honour.”

      “Noble and excellent. Which way are you going?”

      “This way,” I answered, pointing to the right.

      “Well, this is my way,” said he, pointing to the left. “Goodbye, Vanya. Remember, seven o’clock.”

      “Strange,” thought I, looking after him.

      I had meant to be at Natasha’s in the evening. But as now I had given my word to Masloboev, I decided to call on Natasha at once. I felt sure I should find Alyosha there. And, as a fact, he was there, and was greatly delighted when I came in.

      He was very charming, extremely tender with Natasha, and seemed positively to brighten up at my arrival. Though Natasha tried to be cheerful it was obviously an effort. Her face looked pale and ill, and she had slept badly. To Alyosha she showed an exaggerated tenderness.

      Though Alyosha said a great deal and told her all sorts of things, evidently trying to cheer her up and to bring a smile to her lips, which seemed set in unsmiling gravity, he obviously avoided speaking of Katya or of his father. Evidently his efforts at reconciliation had not succeeded.

      “Do you know what? He wants dreadfully to get away from me,” Natasha whispered to me hurriedly when he went out for a minute to give some order to Mavra. “But he’s afraid. And I’m afraid to tell him to go myself, for then perhaps he’ll stay on purpose; but what I’m most afraid of is his being bored with me, and getting altogether cold to me through that! What am I to do?”

      “Good heavens, what a position you’ve put yourselves in! And how suspicious, how watchful you are of one another. Simply explain to him and have done with it. Why, he may well be weary of such a position.”

      “What’s to be done?” she cried, panic-stricken.

      “Wait a minute. I’ll arrange it all for you.”

      And I went into the kitchen on the pretext of asking Mavra to clean one of my overshoes which was covered with mud.

      “Be careful, Vanya,” she cried after me.

      As soon as I went out to Mavra, Alyosha flew up to me as though he had been waiting for me.

      “Ivan Petrovitch, my dear fellow, what am I to do? Do advise me. I promised yesterday to be at Katya’s just at this time to-day. I can’t avoid going. I love Natasha beyond expression; I would go through the fire for her, but you’ll admit that I can’t throw up everything over there….”

      “Well, go then.”

      “But what about Natasha? I shall grieve her, you know. Ivan Petrovitch, do get me out of it somehow….”

      “I think you’d much better go. You know how she loves you; she will be thinking all the while that you are bored with her and staying with her against your will. It’s better to be more unconstrained. Come along, though. I’ll help you.”

      “Dear Ivan Petrovitch, how kind you are!”

      We went back; a minute later I said to him:

      “I saw your father just now.”

      “Where?” he cried, frightened.

      “In the street, by chance. He stopped to speak to me a minute, and asked again to become better acquainted with me. He was asking about you, whether I knew where you were now. He was very anxious to see you, to tell you something.”

      “Ach, Alyosha, you’d better go and show yourself,” Natasha put in, understanding what I was leading up to.

      “But where


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