“You’re bold! You’re very bold!” they said to me. “But leave tomorrow morning without fail, otherwise you’ll lose it all…”
I didn’t listen to them. The avenue was so dark that I couldn’t see my own hand. It was about a quarter of a mile to the hotel. I had never been afraid of thieves or robbers, even when I was little; I didn’t think of them now either. However, I don’t remember what I thought about on the way; there were no thoughts. My only sensation was of some terrible pleasure—luck, victory, power—I don’t know how to express it. The image of Polina flashed before me as well; I remembered and was conscious that I was going to her, that I would presently be together with her and would be telling her, showing her…but I barely remembered what she had said to me earlier, and why I had gone, and all those recent sensations, which had been there an hour and a half ago, now seemed to me something long past, corrected, outdated—of which we would make no further mention, because now everything would start anew. Almost at the end of the avenue fear suddenly came upon me: “What if I’m murdered and robbed right now!” With each step, my fear redoubled. I nearly ran. Suddenly at the end of the avenue our hotel shone all at once, lit up by countless lights—thank God: home!
I ran up to my floor and quickly opened the door. Polina was there, sitting on my sofa in front of a lighted candle, her arms crossed. She looked at me in amazement, and I certainly was a strange sight at that moment. I stopped before her and began flinging my whole pile of money on the table.
CHAPTER XV
I REMEMBER SHE LOOKED terribly intently into my face, but without moving, without even changing her position.
“I won two hundred thousand francs,” I cried, flinging down my last roll. The enormous pile of banknotes and rolls of gold covered the whole table, and I couldn’t take my eyes off it; at moments I completely forgot about Polina. Now I’d begin putting all those heaps of banknotes in order, stacking them together, now I’d gather the gold into one common heap; then I’d abandon it all and begin pacing the room in quick strides, lapsing into thought; then I’d suddenly go up to the table and begin counting the money again. Suddenly, as if coming to my senses, I rushed to the door and quickly locked it, turning the key twice. Then I stopped, pondering, before my little suitcase.
“Shouldn’t I put it in the suitcase till tomorrow?” I asked, suddenly turning to Polina, and I suddenly remembered about her. She went on sitting without stirring, in the same place, but was watching me intently. The expression on her face was somehow strange; I didn’t like that expression! I wouldn’t be mistaken if I said there was hatred in it.
I quickly went over to her.
“Polina, here’s twenty-five thousand florins—that’s fifty thousand francs, even more. Take it, fling it in his face tomorrow.”
She didn’t answer me.
“If you like, I’ll take it myself, early in the morning. Shall I?”
She suddenly began to laugh. She laughed for a long time.
I looked at her with astonishment and sorrowful feeling. This laughter was very much like her recent, frequent, mocking laughter at me, which always came at the time of my most passionate declarations. Finally, she stopped and frowned; she looked me over sternly from under her eyebrows.
“I won’t take your money,” she said contemptuously.
“How’s that? What’s wrong?” I cried. “Why, Polina?”
“I don’t take money for nothing.”
“I’m offering it to you as a friend; I’m offering you my life.”
She looked at me with a long, searching gaze, as if she wanted to pierce me through.
“You’re paying too much,” she said, smiling, “des Grieux’s mistress isn’t worth fifty thousand francs.”
“Polina, how can you speak to me like that!” I cried in reproach. “Am I des Grieux?”
“I hate you! Yes…yes!…I dislike you more than des Grieux,” she cried, suddenly flashing her eyes.
Here she suddenly covered her face with her hands and went into hysterics. I rushed to her.
I realized that something had happened to her in my absence. It was as if she was not at all in her right mind.
“Buy me! You want to? you want to? for fifty thousand francs, like des Grieux?” she burst out with convulsive sobs. I embraced her, kissed her hands, her feet, fell on my knees before her.
Her hysterics were passing. She put both hands on my shoulders and studied me intently. It seemed as if she wanted to read something in my face. She listened to me, but apparently without hearing what I said to her. Some sort of care and pensiveness appeared in her face. I feared for her; it decidedly seemed to me that her mind was becoming deranged. She would suddenly begin to draw me gently to her; a trustful smile would wander over her face; then she would suddenly push me away, and again start peering at me with a darkened look.
Suddenly she rushed to embrace me.
“You do love me, don’t you?” she said. “Why, you wanted…you wanted to fight with the baron over me!” And she suddenly burst out laughing—as if something funny and dear had suddenly flashed in her memory. She wept and laughed at the same time. Well, what was I to do? I was as if in a fever myself. I remember she began saying something to me, but I could understand almost nothing. It was some kind of raving, some kind of prattle—as if she wanted to tell me something quickly—raving interrupted now and then by the merriest laughter, which began to frighten me. “No, no, you’re a dear, a dear!” she repeated. “You’re my faithful one!” and she again put her hands on my shoulders, again peered at me and went on repeating: “You love me…love me…will you love me?” I couldn’t take my eyes off her; I had never yet seen her in these fits of tenderness and love; true, it was, of course, raving, but…noticing my passionate look, she would suddenly begin to smile slyly; for no reason at all she would start talking about Mr. Astley.
However, she mentioned Mr. Astley constantly (especially earlier, when she had tried to tell me something), but precisely what it was, I couldn’t grasp; it seemed she even laughed at him; she constantly repeated that he was waiting…and did I know that he was certainly standing under the window now? “Yes, yes, under the window—well, open it, look, look, he’s here, here!” She pushed me towards the window, but as soon as I made as if to go to it, she dissolved in laughter, and I stayed by her, and she rushed to embrace me.
“So we’re leaving? Aren’t we leaving tomorrow?” suddenly came anxiously to her head. “Well…”(and she fell to thinking), “well, will we catch up with grandmother, do you think? In Berlin, I think, we’ll catch up with her. What do you think she’ll say when we catch up with her and she sees us? And Mr. Astley?…Well, that one won’t jump off the Schlangenberg, do you think?” (She laughed loudly.) “Well, listen: do you know where he’s going next summer? He wants to go to the North Pole for scientific research, and he invited me to go with him, ha, ha, ha! He says that without the Europeans we Russians don’t know anything and can’t do anything…But he’s also kind! You know, he excuses the ‘general’; he says that Blanche…that passion—well, I don’t know, I don’t know,” she suddenly repeated as if wandering and at a loss. “Poor things, I’m so sorry for them and for grandmother…No, listen, listen, who are you to go killing des Grieux? And did you really and truly think you’d kill him? Oh, silly boy! Could you possibly think I’d let you fight with des Grieux? And you wouldn’t kill the baron either,” she added, suddenly bursting into laughter. “Oh, how ridiculous you were then with the baron; I watched the two of you from my bench; and how reluctant you were to go then, when I sent you. How I laughed then, how I laughed,” she added, laughing loudly.