Chapter 3 three

three One autumn morning, Ivan Dmitry turned up the collar of his coat and walked in the mud, through alleys and some remote places, struggling to find the home of a small townsman. Collect money from him.He was sad, as he always was in the mornings.In an alley he encountered a heavily armed soldier escorting two handcuffed prisoners.Ivan Dmitry had often encountered prisoners before, and each time they had aroused in him feelings of pity and uneasiness, but this encounter made a strange and strange impression on him.For some reason, he suddenly felt that he might also be handcuffed, walked in the mud, and sent to prison.He stayed with the petty bourgeoisie for a while, and then went home.Near the post office he met a police officer he knew, who greeted him and walked a few steps with him, which again seemed suspicious to him for some reason.At home, all day long he thought of the two prisoners and the soldier with the gun, and a strange anxiety prevented him from reading and concentrating on something.He stayed in the house with no lights at night, and he didn't sleep at night, thinking that he might be arrested, handcuffed, and put in jail.He didn't know what was wrong with him, and he could guarantee that he would never kill, set fire, or steal in the future.But isn't it easy to accidentally commit a crime by accident?Wouldn't someone be framed?Finally, is it impossible for the courts to be wrong?No wonder the experience of the people for thousands of years has warned us: No one can swear not to beg for food or go to jail. ①Under the current litigation procedure, it is entirely possible for the court to make a wrong judgment, which is not surprising.Those who have a professional or business relation to the suffering of others, as judges, policemen, and physicians, become so insensitive in the course of time, by force of habit, that they are compelled, if not unwilling, to be perfunctory towards their clients.In this respect, they are no different from farmers who kill sheep and cattle in the backyard without seeing the blood.With this perfunctory, callous attitude toward people, a judge needs only one thing in order to deprive an innocent man of all civil rights and sentence him to hard labor: time.As long as you have time to go through certain legal procedures, then everything will be fine - that's what judges are paid for, and afterward you go to find justice and protection in this dirty little town two hundred versts from the railway!Besides, since society regards any violence as a sensible and reasonable necessity, and all acts of kindness, such as acquittals, cause an explosion of dissatisfaction and revenge, it is not ridiculous to talk about justice ?

①Russian proverb. In the morning Ivan Dmitry awoke with terror, with a cold sweat on his brow, fully convinced that at any moment he might be arrested. "Since the heavy thoughts of yesterday have lingered on me for a long time," he thought, "these thoughts are not unreasonable. It is true that they cannot have entered my mind for no reason." A policeman passed under the window without haste: it was not without purpose.Lo and behold, there are two men standing near the house, not speaking.Why don't they talk? Since then, Ivan Dmitry has been tortured day and night.All who passed under the windows and entered the yard looked like spies and spies.At noon the county police chief usually passed by in a hansom on his way from his estate on the outskirts of the city to work at the police station.But Ivan Dmitry felt every time: the carriage was going fast, and he looked strange, obviously he was in a hurry to report that there was a very important prisoner in the city.Ivan Dmitry trembled every time someone rang the bell or knocked at the door, and was terrified if he met a stranger in the landlady's house.But when he met the police and gendarmes, he smiled and whistled, pretending to be nonchalant.He could not sleep for several nights, expecting to be arrested, but snored loudly on purpose, exhaling like a sleeping man, so that his landlady might think he was asleep.You know, if he can't sleep at night, it means that he has been condemned by his conscience and is in pain-this is a big crime!Facts and common sense convinced him that all these fears were absurd and nothing more than psychosis, and that, on the other hand, there was nothing to fear in being arrested and imprisoned--as long as one had a clear conscience.But the more rational and reasonable his thinking was, the more intense and tormenting his inner panic became.It is like a hermit trying to carve out a little safe place in a virgin forest, and the harder he hacks with the axe, the wood grows thicker and thicker.At last Ivan Dmitry realized that it was useless, and he stopped thinking altogether and gave himself up completely to despair and fear.

He began to live in isolation, avoiding people.He had hated his job before, and now he couldn't bear it.He was afraid that someone would make trouble for him, secretly put a bribe into his pocket, and then report him.Or he himself has inadvertently made a mistake on an official document - which is tantamount to forgery, or he has lost other people's money.It was strange that his mind had never been so active and quick as it was now, and now he could think up every day a thousand and one reasons why he should seriously fear for his liberty and his reputation.Because of this, his interest in the outside world, especially books, has obviously weakened, and his memory has also greatly declined.

By spring, the snow had melted, and two partially decomposed bodies were found in a gully near the cemetery.It was an old woman and a young boy, with signs of rape to death.So the people in the city talked a lot, only talking about the two corpses and the murderer who has not yet been identified.Ivan Dmitry was afraid that people would think he had killed him, so he walked up and down the streets and alleys, smiling.But when he met an acquaintance, he would turn red and white again, and repeatedly declared that there is no crime more despicable than killing a weak and defenseless person.But this deception soon bored him, and after a little reflection he decided that the best thing to do in his position was to hide in the landlady's cellar.He sat all day in the cellar, and then night and day.He was so cold that when it was dark, he would sneak into his room like a thief.Before dawn, he had been standing in the middle of the room, motionless, listening carefully to the movement outside.Early in the morning, before the sun had risen, several furnace makers came to look for the landlady.Ivan Dmitry knew perfectly well that they had come to renovate the stove in the kitchen, but fear secretly told him that these were police officers dressed as stove repairers.So he slipped out of the house quietly, hatless and shirtless, and ran down the street in horror.Dogs were barking and chasing after him, a man was shouting incessantly behind him, and the wind was whistling in his ears, and Ivan Dmitry felt that the violence of the whole world was gathering behind him, and now it was time to catch him. he.

He was stopped, sent back to his lodgings, and the landlady was sent for a doctor.The doctor Andrei Yefimitch (who will be mentioned later) prescribed a cold compress for the head and drops of osmanthus leaves, and shook his head sadly.Before leaving, he told the landlady that he would not come again because he should not prevent people from going crazy.Since Ivan Dmitry could not live and treat at home, he had to be taken to the hospital and placed in a venereal disease ward.He stayed up every night, lost his temper, and disturbed the patient's peace, and soon Andrey Yefimitch ordered him to be transferred to the sixth ward.

① A sedative. A year later, Ivan Dmitry was completely forgotten by the townspeople, and his books were piled up by the landlady in a sleigh under the eaves, and naughty children picked up his books one by one.