Some feeling of hatred and contemptuous loathing sounded in these words. And yet she had betrayed him. “Oh, well, perhaps it’s because she feels so guilty towards him that she hates him at moments,” Alyosha thought to himself. He hoped it was only “at moments.” He caught the challenge in Katya’s last words, but did not take it up.
“That is why I sent for you today, so that you would promise to convince him yourself. Or do you, too, consider it not honest to escape, not valiant, or whatever you call it ... not Christian, or what?” Katya added with even more challenge.
“No, not at all. I’ll tell him everything ... ,” Alyosha muttered. “He asks you to come and see him today,” he blurted out suddenly, looking steadily in her eyes. She shuddered all over and drew back from him a little on the sofa.
“Me ... is it possible?” she murmured, turning pale.
“It is and must be!” Alyosha began insistently, becoming animated. “He needs you very much, precisely now. I wouldn’t mention the subject and torment you beforehand if it weren’t necessary. He’s ill, he seems mad, he keeps asking for you. He doesn’t ask you to come and make peace, but just to show yourself in the doorway. A lot has happened to him since that day. He understands how incalculably guilty he is before you. He doesn’t want your forgiveness: ‘I cannot be forgiven,’ he says it himself—but only that you show yourself in the doorway ...”
“You suddenly ... ,” Katya stammered, “all these days I had a feeling you would come with that ... I just knew he would ask for me...! It’s impossible!”
“It may be impossible, but do it. Remember, for the first time he’s been struck by how he insulted you, for the first time in his life, he never grasped it so fully before! He says: if she refuses to come, then I ‘will be unhappy for the rest of my life.’ Do you hear? A man sentenced to twenty years of penal servitude still intends to be happy—isn’t that pitiful? Think: you will be visiting a man who has been guiltlessly ruined,” burst from Alyosha with a challenge, “his hands are clean, there is no blood on them! For the sake of his countless future sufferings, visit him now! Go, see him off into the darkness ... stand in the doorway, that’s all ... You really must, mustdo it!” Alyosha concluded, emphasizing the word “must” with incredible force.
“I must, but ... I can’t,” Katya nearly groaned, “he will look at me ... I can’t.”
“Your eyes must meet. How will you live all your life if you don’t bring yourself to do it now?”
“Better to suffer all my life.”
“You must go, you mustgo,” Alyosha again emphasized implacably.
“But why today, why now ... ? I cannot leave a sick man...”
“You can for a moment, it will just be a moment. If you don’t go, he will come down with brain fever by tonight. I wouldn’t lie to you—have pity!”
“Have pity on me,” Katya bitterly reproached him, and she started to cry.
“So you will go!” Alyosha said firmly, seeing her tears. “I’ll go and tell him you’re coming now.”
“No, no, don’t tell him!” Katya cried out in fear. “I will go, but don’t tell him beforehand, because I’ll go there but I may not go in ... I don’t know yet...”
Her voice broke off. She had difficulty breathing. Alyosha rose to leave.
“And what if I meet someone?” she suddenly said softly, turning pale again.
“That’s why it needs to be now, so that you won’t meet anyone. I assure you, no one will be there. We’ll be waiting for you,” he concluded insistently, and walked out of the room.
Chapter 2: For a Moment the Lie Became Truth
He rushed to the hospital where Mitya was now lying. Two days after the decision of the court, he had come down with nervous fever and was sent to our town hospital, to the section for convicts. But at the request of Alyosha and many others (Madame Khokhlakov, Liza, and so on), Dr. Varvinsky placed Mitya apart from the convicts, in the same little room where Smerdyakov had been. True, a sentry stood at the end of the corridor, and the window was barred, so that Varvinsky could rest easy concerning his indulgence, which was not quite legal, but he was a kind and compassionate young man. He understood that it was hard for a man like Mitya suddenly to step straight into the company of murderers and swindlers, and that he would have to get used to it first. Visits from relatives and acquaintances were permitted by the doctor, and by the warden, and even by the police commissioner, all underhandedly. But Mitya had been visited during those days only by Alyosha and Grushenka. Rakitin had tried twice to see him; but Mitya insistently asked Varvinsky not to let him in.
Alyosha found him sitting on a cot, in a hospital robe, a little feverish, his head wrapped in a towel moistened with water and vinegar. He glanced at the entering Alyosha with a vague look, and yet some sort of fear seemed to flash in this look.
Generally, since the day of the trial, he had become terribly pensive. Sometimes he would be silent for half an hour, apparently thinking ponderously and painfully about something, forgetting whoever was there. And if he roused himself from his pensiveness and began to speak, he would always somehow begin suddenly, and inevitably not with what he really ought to be saying. Sometimes he looked at his brother with suffering. It seemed to be easier for him with Grushenka than with Alyosha. True, he hardly said a word to her, but the moment she entered his whole face lit up with joy. Alyosha silently sat down next to him on the cot. This time he had been anxiously awaiting Alyosha, but he did not dare ask him anything. He considered it unthinkable that Katya would agree to come, and at the same time he felt that if she did not come, it would be something altogether impossible. Alyosha understood his feelings.
“This Trifon,” Mitya began speaking nervously, “Borisich, I mean, has destroyed his whole inn, they say: he’s taking up the floorboards, ripping out planks, they say he’s broken his ‘verander’ to bits—looking for treasure all the time, for the money, the fifteen hundred the prosecutor said I’d hidden there. They say he started this lunacy as soon as he got back. Serves the swindler right! The guard here told me yesterday; he comes from there.”
“Listen,” said Alyosha, “she will come, but I don’t know when, maybe today, maybe one of these days, that I don’t know, but she will come, she will, it’s certain.”
Mitya started, was about to say something, but remained silent. The news affected him terribly. One could see that he painfully wanted to know the details of the conversation, but once again he was afraid to ask: anything cruel and contemptuous from Katya at that moment would have been like the stab of a knife.
“She told me this, by the way: that I must absolutely set your conscience at rest concerning the escape. Even if Ivan has not recovered by that time, she will take care of it herself.”
“You already told me that,” Mitya observed pensively. “And you already passed it on to Grusha,” observed Alyosha.
“Yes,” Mitya confessed. “She won’t come this morning,” he looked timidly at his brother. “She will only come in the evening. She didn’t say anything yesterday when I told her Katya was taking charge of it; but her lips twisted. She just whispered: ‘Let her! ‘ She understood the importance of it. I was afraid to dig any deeper. She does seem to understand now that the other one loves Ivan and not me.”
“Does she?” escaped from Alyosha.
“Maybe she doesn’t. Only she won’t come this morning,” Mitya hastened to stress again, “I gave her an errand ... Listen, brother Ivan will surpass us all. It’s for him to live, not us. He will recover.”
“You know, though Katya trembles for him, she has almost no doubt that he will recover,” said Alyosha.
“That means she’s convinced he will die. It’s fear that makes her so sure he’ll recover.”
“Our brother has a strong constitution. And I, too, have every hope that he will recover,” Alyosha observed anxiously.
“Yes, he will recover. But she’s convinced he will die. She has so much grief ...”
There was silence. Something very important was tormenting Mitya.
“Alyosha, I love Grusha terribly,” he said suddenly in a trembling, tear-filled voice.
“They won’t let her go to you there,”Alyosha picked up at once.
“And here’s something else I wanted to tell you,” Mitya continued in a suddenly ringing voice, “if they start beating me on the way, or there,I won’t let them, I’ll kill someone, and they’ll shoot me. And it’s for twenty years! They’ve already started talking down to me here. The guards talk down to me. I was lying here all last night judging myself: I’m not ready! Not strong enough to take it! I wanted to sing a ‘hymn,’ yet I can’t stand the guards’ talking down to me! I’d endure everything for Grusha, everything ... except beatings, that is ... But they won’t let her go there.”