I asked him directly, but very coolly, what he needed it for. And to this day I cannot understand how such a degree of naïveté was possible in a seemingly “practical” and not stupid man, as Vasin defined him. He explained to me quite directly that at Dergachev’s, as he suspected, “most likely something forbidden, strictly forbidden, is going on, and so, having investigated, I might make myself a little profit from it.” And, smiling, he winked at me with his left eye.
I answered precisely nothing in the affirmative, but pretended I was thinking it over and “promised to think,” after which I quickly left. Things were getting complicated: I flew to Vasin’s and just caught him at home.
“Ah, and you, too!” he said mysteriously on seeing me.
Not picking up his phrase, I went straight to the point and told him. He was visibly struck, though he didn’t lose his equanimity. He asked me to repeat it all in detail.
“Might it not well be that you misunderstood?”
“No, I understood correctly, the meaning was perfectly straightforward.”
“In any case I’m extremely grateful to you,” he added sincerely. “Yes, indeed, if that’s how it all was, then he supposed you wouldn’t be able to hold out against a certain sum.”
“And besides, he knew my situation all too welclass="underline" I’ve been gambling, I’ve behaved badly, Vasin.”
“I heard about that.”
“The most puzzling thing of all for me is that he knows about you, that you go there, too,” I risked asking.
“He knows only too well,” Vasin replied quite simply, “that I have nothing to do with them. And all these young people are mostly babblers—and nothing more. You, however, may remember that better than anyone.”
It seemed to me as if he was not trusting me with something.
“In any case I’m extremely grateful to you.”
“I’ve heard that Mr. Stebelkov’s affairs are somewhat in disorder,” I made another attempt to ask. “At least I’ve heard about some shares . . .”
“What shares have you heard about?”
I deliberately mentioned the “shares,” but, naturally, not in order to tell him the prince’s secret from yesterday. I only wanted to drop a hint and see by his face, by his eyes, whether he knew anything about the shares. I achieved my goaclass="underline" by an imperceptible and instant movement in his face, I guessed that he might know something here as well. I didn’t reply to his question, “What shares?” but remained silent; and he, curiously, didn’t pursue it.
“How is Lizaveta Makarovna’s health?” he inquired with concern.
“She’s well. My sister has always respected you . . .”
Pleasure flashed in his eyes: I had guessed long ago that he was not indifferent to Liza.
“Prince Sergei Petrovich came to see me the other day,” he suddenly imparted.
“When?” I cried.
“Exactly four days ago.”
“Not yesterday?”
“No, not yesterday.” He looked at me questioningly.
“Later maybe I’ll tell you about this meeting in more detail, but now I find it necessary to warn you,” Vasin said enigmatically, “that he appeared to me then to be in an abnormal state of spirit and . . . even of mind. However, I’ve had yet another visit,” he suddenly smiled, “just before you, and I was also forced to conclude that the visitor was not quite in a normal state.”
“The prince was just here?”
“No, not the prince, I’m not talking about the prince now. Andrei Petrovich Versilov was just here and . . . do you know anything? Has anything happened to him?”
“Maybe so, but what precisely went on between you and him?” I asked hastily.
“Of course, I ought to keep this a secret . . . We’re having a strange conversation, you and I, all too secretive,” he smiled again. “However, Andrei Petrovich didn’t order me to keep it a secret. But you’re his son, and since I know your feelings for him, this time it even seems I’ll do well to warn you. Imagine, he came to me with a question: ‘If it so happens, one of these days, very soon, that he needs to fight a duel, would I agree to play the role of his second?’ Naturally, I roundly refused him.”
I was infinitely amazed; this news was the most alarming of alclass="underline" something had come out, something had gone on, something had certainly happened that I still didn’t know about! I suddenly had a fleeting recollection of Versilov saying to me yesterday, “I won’t come to you, but you’ll come running to me.” I flew to Prince Nikolai Ivanovich’s, with a still greater presentiment that the answer was there. Vasin, saying good-bye, thanked me once more.
II
THE OLD PRINCE was sitting in front of the fireplace, his legs wrapped in a plaid. He met me even with some sort of questioning look, as if surprised that I had come, and yet he himself sent to invite me almost every day. However, he greeted me affectionately, though he answered my first questions as if somewhat squeamishly and somehow terribly distractedly. Every now and then it was as if he realized something and peered at me intently, as if he had forgotten something and was trying to recall this something that undoubtedly had to be related to me. I told him directly that I had heard everything and was very glad. A cordial and kindly smile immediately appeared on his lips, and he became animated; his wariness and mistrust dropped away at once, as if he had forgotten them. And, of course, he had.
“My dear friend, I just knew you’d be the first to come and, you know, only yesterday I had this thought about you: ‘Who will be glad? He will.’ Well, and really nobody else; but never mind that. People have wicked tongues, but that’s insignificant . . . Cher enfant, this is all so sublime and so lovely . . . But you know her only too well yourself. And Anna Andreevna even has the highest notions of you. It’s . . . it’s a stern and lovely face, a face out of an English keepsake. 26The loveliest English engraving that could ever be . . . Two years ago I had a whole collection of these engravings . . . I always, always had this intention, always; I’m only surprised that I never thought of it.”
“As far as I remember, you always loved and distinguished Anna Andreevna so.”
“My friend, we don’t want to harm anybody. Life with our friends, with our family, with those dear to our hearts—this is paradise. Everyone is a poet . . . In short, it’s all been known from prehistoric times. You know, in the summer we’ll go first to Soden and then to Bad-Gastein. 27But you haven’t come for so long, my friend; what’s the matter with you? I’ve been expecting you. And isn’t it true, so much, so much has gone on since then. It’s only a pity I get restless; as soon as I’m left alone, I get restless. That’s why I shouldn’t be left alone, isn’t it true? It’s two times two. I understood it at once from her first words. Oh, my friend, she said only two words, but it . . . it was like a magnificent poem. But anyhow, you’re her brother, almost a brother, isn’t it true? My dear, it’s not for nothing that I loved you so! I swear, I anticipated it all. I kissed her little hand and wept.”
He pulled out his handkerchief as if he was going to weep again. He was badly shaken and seemed to be in one of the worst “states” I could remember him being in during all the time of our acquaintance. Ordinarily, and even almost always, he was incomparably more fresh and hearty.
“I would forgive everyone, my friend,” he prattled on. “I want to forgive everyone, and I haven’t been angry with anyone for a long time. Art, la poésie dans la vie, 46helping the poor, and she, a biblical beauty. Quelle charmante personne, eh? Les chants de Salomon . . . non, ce n’est pas Salomon, c’est David qui mettait une jeune fille dans son lit pour se chau fer dans sa vieillesse. Enfin David, Salomon, 47 28it’s all going around in my head—some sort of jumble. Each and every thing, cher enfant, can be both majestic and at the same time ridiculous. Cette jeune belle de la vieillesse de David—c’est tout un poème, 48but Paul de Kock 29would make some scène de bassinoire 49; out of it, and we’d all laugh. Paul de Kock has neither measure nor taste, though he is talented . . . Katerina Nikolaevna smiles . . . I told her we wouldn’t bother anybody. We’ve begun our romance, and they should let us finish it. Let it be a dream, but let them not take this dream away from us.”