Chapter 20 Chapter nine

The day ended in disaster, but there was also night, and here is what I remember of that night. I think it was just after twelve o'clock when I appeared on the street.The night was bright, silent and chilling.I was almost running, running, running, but—not going home at all. "Why go home? Is it possible to have a home now? A home is for people to live in. I woke up the next day to continue to live—can I continue to live now? Life is over, and now it is Impossible." So I stumbled up and down the street, not knowing where I was going now, and I didn't know if I was going somewhere?I get hot, so I open up my heavy raccoon coat from time to time.In that moment, I felt like, "Anything I do now is pointless, it won't help".Strange to say: I always feel that everything around me, even the air I breathe, seems to be blown from another planet, as if I suddenly appeared on the moon.All this—the city, the people, the pavement on which I ran—all of it suddenly became irrelevant to me. "Look, here's the court square, look, here's Isaac's Hall," I saw dimly both places, "but now I have nothing to do with them"; all seemed estranged, all this seemed estranged, All of this suddenly became irrelevant to me. "I have my mother and Lisa—so what, what have Lisa and mother to me now? Everything is lost, everything is lost at once, unless one thing: I am always a thief."

"How can I prove that I'm not a thief? Is it possible now? To America? Well, what's the proof? Versilov will be the first to believe that I stole it! 'Idea'? What 'idea' '? What's the matter with 'thought' now? Even if I walk in another fifty years or a hundred years, someone will always point to my spine and say, 'Look, this is a thief.' He is from Stealing money at the roulette wheel to start realizing 'your own mind'..." Do I have resentment in my heart?I don't know, maybe there is.The strange thing is that I have always had this characteristic, maybe since I was a child: if someone does bad things to me, and they do bad things, insult me, to the point where it cannot be added, then I will always have a strong desire: negatively Let others insult me, even run ahead of him, and cater to the desire of the person who bullies me: "Come on, you insulted me, then I will be even more humble and self-deprecating, come on, look at it, enjoy it!" Shar had hit me once to show that I was a slave and not the son of the Privy Councilor, and I immediately and voluntarily played the role of slave.Not only did I help him dress, but I took the brush of my own accord and scrubbed his clothes until the last speck of dust was removed, without his asking or commanding me, and sometimes, with servile obsequiousness and enthusiasm, taking with a brush, chasing after him to brush the last dust off his tuxedo.Therefore, sometimes he got up embarrassed and stopped me several times: "Enough, enough, Arkady, enough." Often, when he came, he took off his coat—and I immediately brushed it off. Clean, carefully folded, and covered with a square silk scarf.I know that my classmates are laughing at me and looking down on me because of this, I know it too clearly, but I prefer this kind of energy: "If you want me to be a slave, then I am a slave, if you want me to be a slut, Then I'm a bitch." This passive hatred and this secret resentment, I could go on for years.so what?I was at the Zerschikov Casino, and once yelled furiously at the hall: "I'm going to tell you all, roulette is banned by the police!" Me, search me, declare me a thief, and put me to death—"Well, listen, you guessed right, I'm not only a thief, I'm also an informer!" would make such conclusions and explanations; and at the time I was not bothering to analyze at all, I was yelling without intention, I didn't even know I was going to yell like this a second ago: it was involuntary ——I have such characteristics in my heart.

While I was running, no doubt a certain delirium had begun, but I remember very well that I did so consciously.But I am sure that it was impossible for me to come up with a whole set of thoughts and conclusions; I even felt at that moment, "I can have some thoughts about this, but I must not think about others." Maybe." In the same way, some of my decisions at that time, although my mind was very clear at the time, it was impossible to have a shred of logic at the time.Also, I can well remember moments when I was fully aware of the absurdity of one of my decisions, and at the same time fully aware that I would immediately act on it.Yes, the desire to sin had arisen in me that night, and it was only by chance that it did not happen.

At that time, Tatyana Pavlovna's words about Versilov's words flashed through my mind at that time: "He can go to the Nikolai Railway, he can put his head on the rails: let the train take him crush my head." The thought seized all my emotions for a moment, but I drove it away in pain: "Put your head on the rails and die, but tomorrow it will be gone." Someone said: He did it because he stole money, because he was ashamed to see people—no, no way!" I remember that at this very moment, I suddenly felt a terrible wave of anger welling up in my heart. "What should I do?" A flash came to my mind, "It is absolutely impossible to get rid of the crime, and it is impossible to start a new life, so - I can only resign myself to fate, be a slave, a dog, a little reptile , to be a whistleblower, a real whistleblower, and quietly preparing myself to one day—suddenly blow everything up, wipe out everything, everyone, guilty and innocent, At this time, everyone will suddenly know that this is all done by the person called a thief... then commit suicide again."

I don't remember how I ran into an alley, not far from the Grove of the Guards Cavalry. On both sides of this alley, there were almost a hundred steps, and there were two rows of high stone walls—the walls of the two backyards.Behind the wall on the right, I saw a large pile of firewood stretching in a long row, about ten feet above the top of the wall, like a firewood yard.I stopped suddenly and began to think.I had a small silver matchbox in my pocket with some waxed matches in it.I repeat, I was perfectly aware of what I was thinking and what I wanted to do, and even now I remember it clearly, but why I did it - I don't know, not at all.All I remember is that I had a sudden urge to do this. "It's too easy to climb the wall," I thought; just two paces from here, there was a gate in the wall, which must have been locked, and no one had come in or out for months. "Just step up the slope from below," I went on thinking, "and you can grab the top of the door and climb up this high wall—and nobody will notice, nobody, and silence! At that time, I You can ride on the wall and light the firewood with ease. You don’t even need to get down, because the firewood is almost close to the wall. Because of the cold, the fire will only burn more vigorously, and you can reach a piece of birch firewood with just a lift of your hand... ...doesn't even need to bring the whole log over: one can sit on the wall, tear off a piece of birch bark directly from the birch log by hand, light it on a match, poke it into the log when it is lit— — and the flames go up into the air. And I can jump down and walk away; I don't even need to run away, because I won't be seen for a long time..." And so I thought about it all—and suddenly I was completely determined idea.I felt an extraordinary surge of elation and pleasure, and began to climb the wall.I was particularly good at climbing heights: in middle school, gymnastics was one of my strengths, but when I wore overshoes, things were more difficult.However, I still grabbed a faintly protruding part of the wall with one hand, and raised my body slightly. I wanted to swing the other hand and grab the top of the wall, but suddenly I missed it. He fell from above and was on his back.I think, the back of my head hit the ground, and I must have been lying on the ground for a minute or two, unconscious.After waking up, I unconsciously wrapped my fur coat tightly. I suddenly felt bitingly cold. Before I could clearly realize what I was doing, I crawled forward to a corner of the gate, curled up, and curled up into a ball. , squatted down in a depression between the gate and the protrusion of the wall.My thoughts were in a mess, and I dozed off quickly, presumably.Now I recall the past as if in a dream, and suddenly a thick and gloomy bell sounded in my ears, and I began to listen to this sound from outside the sky with great pleasure.

The sound of the bell was steady and clear, beating once every two or even three seconds, but it was not an alarm bell, but a melodious and melodious bell. Is it the familiar bell from Gora Church?This is an old church in Moscow, I remember it was built in the reign of Alexei Mikhailovich, with many lattice windows, many domes, "columned around" - now It was just after Easter Week, and in the small garden in front of the Tushar Middle School, the young green leaves that had just been pulled out were trembling slightly on the thin birch trees.The bright setting sun was throwing its slanting light into our classroom, and there I was, in my little room on the left (a year earlier Tuschar had separated me from the "children of the earl and privy councilor" Come on, force me to sit in this hut), there is a female guest.Yes, I, who had no relatives, suddenly had guests come to see me—it was the first time since I came to school here in Tuschar.As soon as she came in, I recognized the guest at once: it was mother, though since she had given me communion in the country church, and a little dove had flown over the vault—since Never seen her.The two of us sat, and I looked at her strangely.I learned later, many years later, that she had been left alone without Versilov, who had suddenly gone abroad.So she came to Moscow on her own initiative, with the meager money she had, almost secretly from those who had been entrusted with her care, and the purpose of her coming to Moscow was to be able to see me.The strange thing is that after she came in and had a few words with Tuschar, she never mentioned that she was my mother.She sat next to me, and I remember, I even wondered, how little she spoke.She had brought a bundle, and she opened it: there were six oranges, some honey cakes, and two ordinary French breads.Displeased at the sight of French bread, I replied with a stinging air that our "food" was good, and that we were each given a large loaf of challah at tea every day .

"It's all right, dear, I'm simple-minded and think: 'Maybe they don't eat well there, at school,' Don't mind me, dear." "Antonina Vasilyevna (Tushar's wife) will be upset, my dear. My classmates will laugh at me..." "Don't you want to, maybe, eat it anyway?" "Okay, just stay, you..." I didn't even touch the little presents; the oranges and honey cakes were on the little table in front of me, and I sat with downcast eyes, but assumed a more self-respecting air.Who knows, maybe I really want to stop keeping her secret: her visit even makes me feel ashamed in front of my classmates; if I reveal it to her even a little bit, let her know, "Look, you're embarrassing me so much, This, you don’t even understand.” Oh, I was already chasing Tushar with a brush, dusting him!I also imagined how much I would be ridiculed by my classmates when she left, and even Tushar himself would laugh at me-at that time, I didn't have any good feelings for her.I squinted at her old dark dress, her rough, almost workman's hands, her very mean shoes, and her emaciated face; Vasilyevna said to me later, in the evening, after she had gone: "You must have been very handsome in the old days."

We were just sitting there, and suddenly Agafia brought a tray with a cup of coffee on it.It was afternoon, and the Tushars usually drink coffee in their living room at this time.But Mom said thank you and didn't pick up the cup: I later learned that she didn't drink coffee at all because it made her heart beat faster.The problem is that her visit and allowing her to see me, although the Tushars think that this is their extraordinary sympathy for her, as for the cup of coffee sent to their mother, it is already an extraordinary act of their humanitarian spirit This, relatively speaking, has given their civilized sensibilities and European ideas another luster.But my mother refused without knowing it.

Tushar called me to him, and he told me to take out all my homework and books and show them to my mother: "Let her see what you have learned in my school." At this time Antonina Vasilyevna pursed her lips and said to me slowly, in a displeased and mocking voice: "It seems that you maman don't like our coffee." I carried a large pile of workbooks and walked past the "earls and privy boys" who had been peeking at me and my mother, who had gathered in the classroom, to show them to my mother who was waiting there.See, I even enjoyed following Tuschar's directives to the letter: "Here's a French grammar assignment, here's a dictation exercise, here's the conjugation of the auxiliary verbs avoir and etre, and here's a geography assignment, describing Europe and the world Profiles of major cities in various places", etc., etc.I lowered my eyes politely, and in a steady and small voice, I spent half an hour or more explaining to my mother.I know that my mother doesn't know anything about schoolwork, maybe, she can't even write, but I like the role I play.But I couldn't tire her--she listened to me so attentively all the time, without interrupting me, even with a kind of admiration, that in the end it bored me, and I stopped, However, her eyes were very melancholy, and there was a kind of pitiful look on her face.

She got up at last to go when Tushar came in suddenly and asked her with a self-satisfied foolishness: was she satisfied with her son's grades?Mamma began to murmur incoherently and thank her; at that moment Antonina Vassilyevna also came up.Mother began to beg them both to "Don't give up, take care of this orphan, because he is no different from an orphan now, please take care..."—then she bowed to them both with tears in her eyes, and parted again. Bow to everyone, bow deeply to everyone, just like "ordinary people" bowed repeatedly when they asked the adults and gentlemen for something.The Tushars did not even expect her to be like this, and Antonina Vasilyevna evidently relented, and of course immediately changed her conclusions about the cup of coffee.Tushar replied with pomp and human touch that he "treats the children equally, all the children here are his children, and he is their father, and I'm almost like the Privy Councilor with him." To be on an equal footing with the earl's children, and say it's rare to be able to do so", etc., etc.Mom just bowed and bowed, but finally, as if embarrassed, she turned to me and said, with tears in her eyes, "Goodbye, baby!"

She kissed me, which means I allowed her to kiss me.She obviously wanted to kiss me again, again, hug me, hold me tight, but whether it was because of embarrassment in front of other people or something else, she was suffering, or because she guessed By the way, I'm ashamed of her, but she just hastily, bows once more to the Tuschars, and walks out.I stood, motionless. "Mais suivez donc votre mere," said Antonina Vasilyevna, "il n'a pas de coeur cet enfant!" Tushar shrugged his shoulders as an answer. Of course, he meant: "No wonder I can only treat him as a slave." I obediently followed my mother downstairs; we went out and up the steps.I know they must be watching us from the window now.Mama turned to face the church and crossed it deeply three times, her lips trembling, and the rich bells tolled loudly and evenly from the bell tower.She turned to me—couldn't hold it any longer, put both hands on my head, bent over my head, and began to cry. "Mother, come on, you... How embarrassed... You know, they're looking at us from the window now, you..." She raised her head with a hurried expression: "Oh, Lord... oh, God bless you... oh, may the angels, may the Most Holy Virgin and the servant of the Lord Nicolas guard you... Lord, Lord!" She fired like a cannonball. Repeatedly, crossing me constantly, faster and bigger, "My darling, my darling! But wait a minute, darling..." Hastily reaching into her pocket, she produced a handkerchief, a blue gingham handkerchief, tightly knotted at one end, and tried to untie it...but the knot would not untie... "Well, it doesn't matter if you can't open it, just take the handkerchief with you, it's clean, it might be useful, there are four twenty-copeck pieces in it, it might be useful, I'm sorry, dear, more, It just so happens that I don't have either... sorry, baby." I took the handkerchief, intending to say, "Mr. Tushar and Antonina Vasilyevna have arranged our lives very well, we have nothing to lack," but I refrained from saying it and took it. handkerchief. She made the sign of the sign of the sign of the cross again, whispered some prayer again, and then suddenly—suddenly bowed to me, just as she bowed to the Tuschars upstairs,—to I bowed deeply, slowly, and long--I will never forget it!This made me shudder violently, and I don't know why.What does she mean by bowing this way?Is it like what I thought it was once a long time later, trying to say: "She admits she was wrong, sorry for me"-I don't know.But I immediately felt ashamed because "they're watching me from above and Lambert might beat me up." She is gone at last.The few oranges and honey cakes were eaten by the clerk and the earl's children before I came back, and the four twenty-copeck pieces were promptly snatched from me by Lambert; Bought a lot of pastries and chocolates in the food store, and didn't even share them with me. After half a year, it was already a miserable and rainy October.I have completely forgotten about my mother, oh, at that time, the hatred, the deep hatred for everything, had crept into my heart and soaked it with hatred; although I still washed Tussal’s clothes as before, I had already Hate him to the core, and the hate grows every day.At that time, one time, in a bleak evening with twilight, I once began to tidy up my drawers for some reason. Suddenly, in a corner, I saw her blue linen handkerchief. At that time, since I Once it was tucked in, it just lay there.I took it out, and even looked at it with some curiosity; the top of the handkerchief still retained all the creases where it had once been knotted, and even clearly bore the impression of the circle of a silver coin; The handkerchief was put back in its place and pushed back in the drawer.It was the eve of the festival, and the bells were humming, calling the people to all-night prayers.The students had gone home after lunch, but this time Lambert stayed for Sunday, and I don't know why no one came to fetch him.At that time he continued to beat me as before, but he also told me many things, he needed me, and we talked all night about the Repagev pistol, although neither of us had ever seen it, we also talked about it. To the sabers of the Circassians, how they slashed and killed, how it would have been if only the weeds could be turned into bandits, gathered in the mountains and forests, and looted their houses. At last, Lambert turned to his topic again, talking about those well-known Even though I am secretly amazed by the nasty stuff, I love it very much.However, this time, I suddenly felt that I couldn't stand it anymore, and I pushed him that I had a headache.At ten o'clock we went to bed; I covered my head, crawled into bed, and pulled out the blue handkerchief from under the pillow: an hour ago I opened the drawer again and took it out, our bed had just Once it's done, I tuck it under the pillow.Immediately I pressed it to my face and suddenly started kissing it. "Mom, Mom," I called out in a low voice while recalling the past, and my whole chest felt like it was being pinched by pliers.Slowly I closed my eyes and saw her face and her trembling lips as she crossed herself in the church and afterwards me, and I said to her: "Don't be ashamed, look! "Mother, good mother, you have come to see me once in all my life... Good mother, my visitor from afar, where are you now? Do you still remember your poor poor boy who you once came to see?" Child?... Now you just show me one more time, let me see you in my dream just one more time, just so I can tell you how much I love you, I just want to be able to hug you one more time and kiss you Blue eyes, and say to you, I am not ashamed of you at all now, in fact, I loved you very much at that time, my heart felt sour at that time, and I sat aside like a slave Mom, you'll never know, but I loved you then! Good mother, where are you now, do you hear me? Mother, mother, do you remember that little pigeon in the country church? ..." "Ah, what the hell... what is he doing!" Lambert muttered in his bed. "Slow down, I won't beat you! Don't let people sleep..." He finally jumped up from the bed, ran to me, and started to pull the quilt on me, but I wrapped it tightly, tightly, even my head Drill the quilt inside. "You cry, why are you sobbing and crying, idiot, idiot! See if I don't beat you!" So he started beating me, hitting my back and waist with his fists, the more he beat, the more painful it was , so... I suddenly opened my eyes... It's daylight, it's freezing cold, it's shining on the snow, on the walls... I'm sitting huddled up, dying, I'm freezing in my fur coat, and someone is standing next to me, waking up I cursed loudly and kicked my waist in pain with the toe of my right foot.I stood up and looked: a man, wearing an expensive bearskin coat and a mink fur hat, with jet-black eyes, a jet-black beard, and an aquiline nose, bared his white teeth at me.His face was pale and red, like a mask... He bent down very low to me, and with every breath he took, a mouthful of cold air came out of his mouth. "Frozen to death, you drunk, you bastard! You're going to freeze to death like a dog, get up! get up!" "Lambert!" I cried. "Who are you?" "Dolgoruki!" "What the hell Dolgoruki?" "The surname is Dolgoruky! ... Tushar ... the one you stabbed him in the waist with a fork in the small restaurant ..." "Ah-ah-ah!" he exclaimed, with a long, waking smile on his face (he really forgot about me!), "ah! So it was you ,you!" He lifted me up and made me stand; I barely stopped, barely moved, and he held me with one hand and helped me walk.He looked into my eyes, as if he was thinking, remembering, and listening to me attentively, and I was speaking indistinctly, constantly, endlessly, because I was so happy to be able to speak , so happy, I'm glad it's Lambert.I don't know why I feel that he is my "savior", or because at this time I regard him as a person from another world altogether, so I am overjoyed to jump on him, what the hell--I don't know, —I couldn't think about it then,—but I jumped at him without thinking.I don't remember what I said at that time, and at the same time, I can't say something coherent, and I may not even be able to speak clearly; but he listened very attentively.He grabbed the first cab he came across, and in a few minutes I was sitting in his room, in the warmth. Anyone, whoever he is, probably keeps some sort of recollection of something that happened to him that he thought, or was inclined to think, was quaint, extraordinary, out of the ordinary, almost miraculous, whatever it was— —a dream, an encounter, a divination, a premonition, or something of the sort.I still tend to think that this encounter between me and Lambert is even something prophetic...at least judging from the circumstances of the encounter and the consequences of the encounter, it should be so.But then again, all this, on the one hand, happened at least in a very natural way: he just came home from what he was supposed to do at night (what—it will be self-explanatory later), half-drunk, half-awake, in the alley, in the After standing by a gate for a while, I saw me.He had been in Petersburg only a few days. The room in which I appeared was not large, a very ordinary furnished room in an ordinary middling apartment in Petersburg.Lambert himself, however, was well dressed and ostentatiously dressed.There were two suitcases lying in a mess on the floor, only half packed.One corner of the room was partitioned off with a screen, covering the bed. "Alphonsine!" cried Lambert. "presente!" replied a trembling woman's voice behind the screen, with a Parisian accent, and within two minutes jumped out a mademoiselle Alphonsine, who had just gotten out of bed, put on a dress in a hurry, and A pair of cardigans—this person looks strange, tall, very thin, as thin as a stick, a girl, with black hair, a long waist, a long face, and eyes that roll around. The two cheeks are sunken, - a look of premature aging! "Quick! (This is my translation, and he spoke French to her), there must be a samovar over there; bring water, wine, and sugar, and bring a glass here, he's freezing, he's my friends... slept all night in the snow." "Malheureux!" she cried, clapping her hands together as if in a play. "Hey-hey!" Lambert barked at her, like a puppy, and held up a finger threateningly at her; at once she gave up her pretentiousness and ran to carry out the order. He examined my body, feeling here and there; he also felt my pulse, felt my forehead and temples. "It's strange," he muttered, "you didn't freeze... But it's no wonder, you're wrapped in a fur coat, and you've got your head in, like a cave covered with animal skins..." A cup of hot tea was brought to me, and I drank it in one gulp, and it instantly boosted my spirits; I began to ramble on again; I half-lyed on the corner of the couch, talking and talking— —out of breath, to say the least—but what and how I said it is almost entirely lost to me; and how I passed some moments, or even whole periods of time.I repeat: did he understand what I was saying,--I don't know; This encounter with me... What is his plan at this time, I will explain it in an appropriate place later. Not only do I feel more refreshed, but I also seem to be having a good time sometimes.I remember the daylight suddenly flooding the room when someone drew the curtains, and I remember the crackling fire,—someone lit a fire,—who and how—I don't remember.I also remember a little black pug, held in the hands of mademoiselle Alphonsine, clinging to her heart.The little pug was somehow so flattering to me that I even stopped talking and reached out to him two or three times to tease him, but Lambert waved and Alphonsina and her pug were gone in the blink of an eye Go behind the screen and disappear. He himself did not say a word, sat across from me, bowed low to me, and listened to me without saying a word; sometimes he would smile long and long, baring his teeth and squinting his eyes, as if I'm trying to figure it out, trying to figure something out.Only one thing, I keep a clear memory, that is, when I mentioned the "documents", I can't explain clearly, and I can't explain the cause and effect of this matter. I can clearly see from his facial expression that he He couldn't understand what I was trying to say, but he wanted to know what it was all about, so he even took the risk of interrupting me and asking me a question, which was dangerous because just a little If you interrupt me a bit, I will digress and forget what I am talking about.How long we sat and talked like this - I don't know, I can't even imagine.Suddenly he got up and called Alphonsina: "He needs quiet; perhaps a doctor should be called. What does he want—all done, that is... Vous comprenez, ma fille? Vous avez l'argent, no? Give!"—and he produced a ten Ruble banknotes.He started whispering to her: Vous comprenez! vous comprenez! ’ he repeated to her twice, threateningly raising a finger and frowning severely. I saw her tremble terribly before him. "I'll be back in a while, you'd better get some sleep." He smiled at me and picked up his top hat. "Mais vous n'avez pas dormi du tout, Maurice!" Alphonsina exclaimed enthusiastically. "Taisez-vous, je dormirai apres," he said and went out. "Sauvee!" she said passionately, pointing to me with one hand after his back. "Monsieur, monsieur!" she recited at once, posing in the center of the room, "jamais homme ne fut si cruel, si Bismark, que cet etre, qui regard une femme comme une salete de hasard.Une femme, qu'est-ce que a dans notre epoque? "Tue-la!"—voila le dernier mot de l'Academie francaise!  …” I stared at her with wide eyes; there was a double image in my eyes, I seemed to see two Alphonsines... I suddenly realized that she was crying, I shuddered, and finally understood that she had said to me It has been a long time, and it can be seen that during this time, I fell asleep or became unconscious. "...Helas! de quoi m'aurait servi de le decouvrir plutot,..." she exclaimed, "et n'autrais-je pas autant gagne a tenir ma honte cachee toute ma vie? Peut-etre, n'est- il pas honnete a une demoiselle de s'expliquer si librement devant monsieur, mais enfin je vous avoue que s'il m'etait permis de vouloir quelque chose, oh, ce serait de lui plonger au coeurmon couteau, mais en detournant les yeux, de peur que son regard executable ne fit trembler mon bras et ne glaat mon courage! Il a assassine ce pope russe monsieur, il lui arracha sa barde rousse pour la vendre a un artiste en cheveux au pont des Marechaux, tout pres de la Maison de monsieur Andrieux—hautes nouveautes, articles de Paris, linge, chemises, vous savez, n'est-ce pas?... Oh, monsieur, quand l'amitie rassemble a table epouse, enfants; soeurs, amis, quand une vive allegresse enflamme mon coeur, je vous le demande, monsieur: est-il bonheur preferred a celui dont tout jouit? Mais il rit, monsieur, ce monster executable et inconcevable et si ce n'etaitpas par l'entremise de monsieur Andrieux, jamais, oh, jamais je ne serais... Mais quoi, monsieur, qu'avez vous, monsieur? " She rushed to me: I seemed to be chilled all over, maybe fainted.I cannot tell how heavy and painful the impression of this mad woman was on me.也许，她还以为她在奉命替我解闷：至少，她片刻也不离开我。也许，她从前曾经登过台，演过戏；她可怕地像在朗诵台词，把身子转来转去，一刻不停地说呀说呀，而我早已经一声不吭了。她说来说去的那个故事，我只听懂了一点，她跟某个“la Maison de monsieu Andrieux—hautes nouveautes, articles de Paris, etc.”似乎曾经关系密切，甚至说不定还是从la Maison de monsieur Adrieux出来的，但是她不知怎么被par ce monstre furieux et iuconce-vable从monsieur Audrieux那里永远夺走了过去，因而发生了悲剧……她痛哭流涕，但是我觉得，这不过是做秀，其实根本不是真哭；有时候我似乎觉得，她整个人忽然像具骷髅似的即将散架；她吐字的声音就像某种被挤压的颤音；比如她把preferable说成是prefe-a-able，而把a这个音节说得像羊叫似的。有一回我清醒过来，看见她在房间中央做单脚点地的旋转动作，但是她并不在跳舞，这个旋转动作似乎也跟她讲的事情有关，她不过是在扮演角色而已。忽然，她又跑过去，打开那架原先就放在这屋里的又小又旧，音调又不准的钢琴，叮叮咚咚地弹了几下，便唱起来……似乎，有十分钟或者十几分钟，我完全昏迷了过去，睡着了，但是小哈巴狗一声尖叫，我又醒了过来：刹那间，我又忽然完全恢复了知觉，心里豁然开朗；我害怕地一跃而起。 “兰伯特，我在兰伯特家！”我想抓起皮帽，向我的皮大衣奔去。 “啊呀，allez-vous, monsieur？”目光尖锐的阿尔丰西娜叫道。 “我想走，我想出去！放我走，别拦住我……” “Oui, monsieur！”阿尔丰西娜竭力赞同道，并主动跑过去给我打开通往楼道的门。“Mais ce n'est pas loin, monsieur, c'est pas loin du tout，a ne vaut pas la peine de mettre votre chouba, c'est ici pres, monsieur！” 她向着整个楼道嚷嚷道。我跑出了房间，向右拐。 “Par ici, monsieur, c'est par ici！”她使劲喊道，用她那又长又瘦的手指抓住我的皮大衣，另一只手则向我指着楼道左边的某个地方，但是我根本就不想到那里去。我从她手里挣脱出来，向通往楼梯的那扇出口的门跑去。 “Il s'en va, il s'en va！”阿尔丰西娜一面用她那破锣嗓子大叫，一面追我，“mais il me tuera, monsieur, il me tuera！”但是我已经一个箭步，蹿到楼梯上，尽管她也跟着我跑下楼，在追我，但是我已经先她一步打开了出口的门，蹿到了街上，并且快步跳上我遇到的第一辆出租马车。我告诉了他妈妈的地址…… 但是，我的意识才点亮了一忽儿，又很快熄灭了。我还十分勉强地记得，马车怎么把我拉到了目的地，并且有人把我带进去见到了妈妈，但是在那里我又几乎立刻陷入完全的昏迷中。据她们后来告诉我（其实，我自己也记起来了），第二天，我的神志又清醒了一忽儿。我记得自己在韦尔西洛夫的房间里，躺在他那张长沙发上；我记得我周围有一张张脸：韦尔西洛夫的，妈妈的和丽莎的，我记得很清楚韦尔西洛夫跟我讲到泽尔希科夫，讲到公爵，还给我看了一封信，让我放心。他们后来告诉我，我满怀恐惧地老提到一个叫兰伯特的人，还总听到一只哈巴狗在汪汪叫，但是意识的这点微弱的光很快就熄灭了：到第二天傍晚，我发起了高烧。但是我想先说说后来发生的几件事，先作个交待。 当我在那天晚上跑出泽尔希科夫赌场，那里的一切稍许平静下来之后，泽尔希科夫又重新开赌，稍后，他忽然声音洪亮地宣布，发生了一件不幸的错误：丢掉的钱，即四百卢布，在其他钱的那一摞里找到了，庄家的钱数准确无误。于是留在赌场大厅里尚未走开的公爵，便走到泽尔希科夫跟前，坚决要求他公开宣布我是无辜的，此外，还应以书信的方式向我致歉。泽尔希科夫本人也认为这一要求应予尊重，并当众答应明天就发出一封解释和道歉的信。公爵告诉了他韦尔西洛夫的地址，果然，第二天，韦尔西洛夫就收到了泽尔希科夫的信，信是写给我的，并附有属于我，但被我遗忘在赌桌上的一千三百多卢布。这样一来，发生在泽尔希科夫赌场的事就算了结了；这个快乐的消息，在我从昏迷状态清醒过来之后，极大地促进了我的康复。 公爵从赌场回来后，当天就写了两封信——一封给我，另一封给他过去所在的团，即他跟骑兵少尉斯捷潘诺夫发生过不快的那个团。两封信他都于第二天上午发出了。接着他又给上司写了一份报告，并手持这份报告亲自求见他所在团的团长，向他申称，他是一个“刑事犯，曾参与伪造某某股票案，现向法院自首，请予法办”。就在此时，他递交了那份以书面形式陈述全部案情的报告。他被捕了。 以下就是他在那天夜里写给我的信，逐字逐句，分毫不差： “最最亲爱的阿尔卡季·马卡罗维奇： “我曾经试过奴才的'出路'，因此我也就失去了从思想上多少安慰我的心灵的权利，须知，我本来是能够痛下决心，最终投身于正义的伟业的。我对祖国有罪，对我的家族有罪，为此，我作为这家族中的最后一员，我要自己惩罚自己。我不明白我怎会抓住这种卑鄙的念头不放的，只想保全自己，在某一时期还妄想用金钱来把那两个人打发走？然而面对自己的良心，我始终是个罪人。这两个人即便把有损于我的名声的那两封短信还给我，他们也将一辈子无论如何都不会放过我！剩下来还有什么办法呢：只能跟他们在一起，跟他们一辈子同流合污——这就是等候着我的命运！我无法接受这一命运，终于在自己身上找到了足够的毅然决然的勇气，也许找到的只是绝望也说不定，我只能像我现在所做的那样去做。 “我给我过去所在团的老战友写了封信，证明斯捷潘诺夫是无辜的。在这行动中没有，也不可能有任何赎罪的舍己为人的想法。这一切不过是一个明天就要去死的人的临终遗言。对于这事就应当这么看。 “请原谅我，因为在赌场里我曾经拒绝为您作证，这是因为当时我不相信您。现在，我已经是死人了，我可以……在阴曹地府对您作甚至这样的坦白。 “可怜的丽莎！对于我的这一决定，她什么也不知道；但愿她不要诅咒我，而是自己来谴责我。我无法为自己辩护，甚至也找不到言辞来向她作任何解释。有件事您也应该知道，阿尔卡季·马卡罗维奇，昨天清晨，她最后一次来看我，我向她公开了我对她的欺骗，我承认我曾经拜访过安娜·安德烈耶芙娜，企图向她求婚。我看到丽莎是那么爱我，在我准备实施我最后的已经深思熟虑的决定之前，我不能把这件事留在我的良心上，于是我向她坦白了。她原谅了我，一切都原谅了，但是我不相信她会原谅我；这不是原谅，换了是她，我就不会原谅。 “请记住我。 “您的不幸的最后一个索科尔斯基公爵。” 我不省人事地躺了整整九天。