Crime and Punishment (85 page)

Raskolnikov went after him.

‘What is the meaning of this?’ Svidrigailov exclaimed, turning round. ‘Why, I thought I told you…’

‘The meaning of it is that I'm going to stay close on your heels.’

‘Wha-a-at?’

They both came to a halt, and for a moment they exchanged looks as though they were sizing each other up.

‘From all your semi-drunken stories,’ Raskolnikov snapped
abruptly, ‘I've concluded quite
definitely
that not only have you not given up your thoroughly vile intentions concerning my sister, but are actually brooding on them more than ever. It has come to my ears that my sister received some kind of letter this morning. All the time we were talking you could hardly keep still… All right, so you've managed to produce a wife from somewhere on the way; but that doesn't mean anything. I want to make sure for myself…’

It was doubtful whether Raskolnikov could have said with any clarity what he wanted now, or what it was he wanted to make sure of for himself.

‘So it's like that, is it? Do you want me to call the police?’

‘Go ahead!’

For a moment they stood facing each other. At last the expression on Svidrigailov's face underwent a change. Having satisfied himself that Raskolnikov had not been intimidated by his threat, he suddenly assumed the most cheerful and friendly air.

‘I say, you are a strange fellow! I purposely didn't mention that business of yours, even though I'm naturally alive with curiosity. It's a fantastic business. I was going to put it off until another time, but you'd whet the appetite of a corpse… All right, come on then, only let me warn you in advance that I'm only going back to my place for a second in order to pick up some money; then I shall lock up, take a cab and spend the whole evening at the Islands. So what's the point in you coming with me?’

‘I want to look in at the apartment, not to see you but to have a word with Sofya Semyonovna, and tender my excuses for not having attended the funeral.’

‘As you like, but Sofya Semyonovna isn't there. She's taken all the children to the home of a certain lady, an old aristocratic woman who's a long-time friend of mine and runs some orphanages. I charmed her by taking her the money for all three of Katerina Ivanovna's fledglings, and I donated some more money of my own; I ended by telling the story of Sofya Semyonovna, with all the stops pulled out, not concealing a thing. It produced an incredible effect. That's why Sofya Semyonovna has an
appointment today at the — Hotel, where my lady is spending some time away from her dacha.’

‘Never mind, I'll call in all the same.’

‘As you wish, only I shan't be your crony; anyway, what business is it of mine? All right, we're nearly there. You know, I'm convinced that the reason you view me with suspicion is because I've had the tact until now not to trouble you with awkward questions… know what I mean? You thought it was a bit strange; I bet that's what it is, isn't it? Well, I suppose that's what one gets for being tactful!’

‘And for eavesdropping at doors!’

‘Aha, so that's what you're getting at!’ Svidrigailov laughed. ‘Yes, I'd have been surprised if, after all that's taken place, you'd let that pass without comment. Ha-ha! I understood at least a part of the tricks you'd got up to… there… that time… and were describing to Sofya Semyonovna, but I mean, what was it really all about? Perhaps I'm just behind the times and incapable of understanding any of it. For heaven's sake, explain it to me, old chap! Enlighten me with the latest ideas!’

‘You couldn't possibly have heard anything, you're just lying!’

‘Oh, but I don't mean that, I don't mean that (though actually I did hear one or two things), no, I'm referring to the way you keep sighing and moaning all the time. Every few moments that Schiller in you keeps getting into a tizzy. And now it's “Don't eavesdrop at doors!” If that's the way you see it, why don't you just go and tell the authorities: “Do you know what's happened to me? There's turned out to be a small flaw in one of my theories!” If, on the other hand, you're convinced that it's wrong to eavesdrop at doors, but it's perfectly all right to crack the skulls of old women, then off you go to America at the double! Run for it, young man! You may still have time. I speak in all sincerity. You don't have the money? I'll give you enough for the journey.’

‘I've absolutely no plans of that kind,’ Raskolnikov said, cutting him off with revulsion.

‘I understand (by the way, please don't put yourself to any trouble; if you like, you needn't say much); I understand the kind of problems that are currently on your mind: they're moral
ones, aren't they? Problems to do with man as a citizen? Oh, put them to one side; why should you bother with them now? Hee, hee! Because you're still a man and a citizen? Well, if that's so, then you shouldn't have poked your nose into all that in the first place; it's no good if you don't know your own job. Well, you'll just have to shoot yourself; but perhaps you don't feel inclined to?’

‘I think you're trying to irritate me on purpose, so I'll stop following you around…’

‘You
are
a funny fellow; well, we're here now; let me welcome you to the staircase. You see, there's the entrance to Sofya Semyonovna's room – look, there's no one there! You don't believe me? Ask at Kapernaumov's; she hands her key in at his place. Look, here she is, the lady herself, Madame de Kapernaumov. Eh? What? (She's a bit deaf.) She's gone out? Where to? Well there you are, did you hear? She's not in and may not be back until late tonight. Well, now let's go along to my rooms. I mean, you did want to come in, didn't you? Well, here we are. Madame Resslich's not at home. That woman's forever on the go, but she's a good soul, I do assure you… She might have suited for you if you'd had a bit more sense. All right, watch: I'm going to take this five per cent bond out of the writing-desk (what a lot of them I still have left!), and it will go to the money-changer's today. All right, seen all you want? I can't spare any more time. The writing-desk is locked up, the rooms are locked up, and here we are on the staircase again. I say, if you like we can take that cab out there: I mean, I'm bound for the Islands. What do you say to a lift? Look, I'll be taking this cab all the way to Yelagin. What, you don't want to? Had enough? Come on, let's drive together, it's all right. I think it may be coming on to rain, but never mind, we'll lower the hood…’

Svidrigailov was already inside the cab. Raskolnikov concluded that his suspicions, for this moment at least, were baseless. Without a word of reply he turned and walked off back in the direction of the Haymarket. If he had turned round even once on his way, he would have seen Svidrigailov, having travelled no more than a hundred yards, pay the driver and dismount on to
the pavement again. But by now he could see nothing, and he had turned the corner. A deep revulsion had drawn him away from Svidrigailov. ‘And to think that I could for one moment have expected anything from that coarse evildoer, that lustful villain and lecher!’ he found himself exclaiming in spite of himself. It must be admitted that Raskolnikov uttered this judgement rather too hastily and without proper consideration. There was something about Svidrigailov's whole aura that lent him a certain originality, even mystery. As for his sister's place in all this, Raskolnikov was still, however, firmly convinced that Svidrigailov was not going to leave her alone. But now it was becoming too unendurably painful to think and brood about all that!

In accordance with his habit, being left on his own, after a couple of dozen paces he fell into deep reflection. Going up on to the bridge, he stopped over by the railings and began to look at the water. Yet all the while Avdotya Romanovna was standing above him.

He had run into her at the entrance to the bridge, but had walked past, not recognizing her. Dunya had never encountered him in the street like this before and had been shocked and alarmed. She had stopped and wondered whether to call out to him or not. Suddenly she saw Svidrigailov coming hurriedly along from the Haymarket side.

He seemed, however, to be making his approach in a mysterious, cautious manner. He did not come up on to the bridge, but stopped at one side, on the pavement, doing his utmost to make sure that Raskolnikov did not see him. He had spotted Dunya long ago and had begun to make signs to her. She took the signs to mean that he wanted her not to call to her brother, but to leave him in peace, and that he was beckoning to her.

Dunya obeyed. She quietly slipped past her brother and went over to Svidrigailov.

‘Let's get away from here quickly,’ Svidrigailov whispered to her. ‘I don't want Rodion Romanych to know about our meeting. I think I should tell you that I've been sitting with him in an inn not far from here, where he tracked me down of his own accord, and I only managed to get away from him with difficulty.
He's somehow found out about the letter I sent you and he suspects something. I mean, you wouldn't have told him, would you? But if you didn't, then who did?’

‘There, we've turned the corner,’ Dunya said, interrupting him. ‘My brother won't see us now. I want to make it clear that I won't go any further with you. Tell me it all here; it can all just as well be said out in the street.’

‘Look, in the first place, this isn't the sort of thing that can possibly be talked about out in the street; in the second place, you must also hear what Sofya Semyonovna has to say; in the third place, I want to show you certain documents… Very well, then, if you won't agree to come up to my rooms I shall refuse to give you any explanation and shall go away at once. At the same time, I ask you not to forget that your beloved brother's most intriguing secret lies entirely in my hands.’

Dunya paused in indecision and fixed Svidrigailov with a piercing gaze.

‘What are you afraid of?’ Svidrigailov said calmly. ‘We're not in the country here. Even in the country you did me more harm that I did you, but here…’

‘Does Sofya Semyonovna know we're coming?’

‘No, I haven't said a word about it to her and I'm not even sure whether she's there just now. Though she probably is. She buried her stepmother today: not the sort of day to go out visiting. I don't want to talk about this to anyone before the time is right, and I'm even slightly sorry I told you. In this case the slightest indiscretion will be equivalent to informing the police. I live right here, in this building, here we come to it now. There's our yardkeeper; the yardkeeper knows me very well; look, he's bowing; he's seen I'm walking with a lady, and of course he'll have taken note of your features, and that will stand you in good stead if you're very afraid of me and view me with suspicion. Please forgive me for putting it so crudely. I rent rooms from some tenants. Sofya Semyonovna lives through the wall from me, her place is also rented from some tenants. The whole floor is in the hands of tenants. Why are you so frightened, like a child? Am I really so very terrible?’

Svidrigailov's face distorted itself into a condescending smile;
but now he was in no smiling mood. His heart was thumping and the breath caught in his chest. He was making a conscious effort to speak louder, in order to hide his growing excitement; but Dunya had not noticed this peculiar excitement; she was still too irritated by his remark that she was as frightened as a child and that he was an object of terror to her.

‘Though I'm quite aware that you're a man… without honour, I'm not afraid of you in the slightest. Please lead the way,’ she said, with a show of calm, though her face was very pale.

Svidrigailov stopped outside Sonya's room.

‘Let me just find out if she's in or not. No, she isn't. We're out of luck! But I know she's likely to get back very soon. If she's gone out, it can only have been to see a certain lady about her orphaned siblings. Their mother has died. I also took a hand in the matter and made certain arrangements. If Sofya Semyonovna hasn't come back within ten minutes, I shall send her to see you, today if you like; well, and here are my lodgings. These are my two rooms. Through that door lies the apartment of my landlady, Mrs Resslich. Now if you'll just glance over here I'll show you my principal documents; this door here leads from my bedroom into two completely empty rooms, which are up for rent. Here they are… I'd give them a rather close look, if I were you.’

Svidrigailov occupied two rather spacious furnished rooms. Dunya gazed around her mistrustfully, but could observe nothing out of place either in the contents or the arrangement of the rooms, even though another observer might have noticed, for example, that Svidrigailov's apartment happened to lie more or less in between two almost uninhabited ones. The entrance to his quarters did not lead straight in from the outside passage, but through two of the landlady's rooms, which were almost empty. Unlocking his bedroom door, which had a proper lock and key, Svidrigailov showed Dunya another empty apartment, the one that was up for rent. Dunya paused on the threshold, not comprehending why she was being asked to look, but Svidrigailov was quick to explain:

‘Look over here, towards this second large room. Observe
this door – it's locked with a key. Beside the door stands a chair; there's only one chair in the two rooms. I brought it through from my quarters, so as to be able to listen in more comfort. Right behind that door is Sofya Semyonovna's table; that's where she sat talking to Rodion Romanych. And I overheard it all in here, sitting on that chair, for two evenings in a row, each occasion lasting a couple of hours – so I think you won't be surprised if I tell you I learned a few things.’

‘You mean you were eavesdropping?’

‘That's correct; now let's go back to my rooms; there's nowhere to sit down here.’

He led Avdotya Romanovna back into the first of his chambers, which served him as a reception room, and invited her to sit down on a chair. He himself sat down at the other end of the table, a good sagene away from her, at any rate, though his eyes must already have been glittering with the flame that had so alarmed Dunya on earlier occasions, for she shuddered and gazed around her mistrustfully again. Her gesture was an involuntary one; she clearly did not want to show her suspicion. But the secluded location of Svidrigailov's quarters had finally made its impression on her. She felt like asking whether at least his landlady was in, but she refrained from doing so… out of pride. There was, moreover, another suffering within her heart that was incomparably greater than any fear for her own safety. She was in the grip of an unendurable torment.