"Everybody has his anxieties, Prince, and . . . especially in our strange and anxious age, sir; so it is, sir," Lebedev answered with a certain dryness and fell silent, looking hurt, like a man whose expectations have been badly disappointed.
"What philosophy!" smiled the prince.
"Philosophy's needed, sir, very much needed in our age, for practical application, sir, but it's held in disdain, sir, that's what. For my part, my much-esteemed Prince, though I used to be honored by your trustfulness towards me in a certain point, which is known to you, sir, but only to a certain degree, and by no means further than the circumstances that essentially concern that same point ... I realize it and am not complaining in the least."
"Lebedev, you seem to be angry about something?"
"Not at all, not in the least, my much-esteemed and most radiant Prince, not in the least!" Lebedev cried out ecstatically, putting his hand to his heart. "But, on the contrary, I precisely and immediately comprehended that, neither in worldly position, nor in development of mind and heart, nor in accumulated wealth, nor in my previous behavior, nor yet in learning am I in any way deserving of your honored and lofty trust, which far exceeds my hopes; and that if I may serve you, it is as a slave or a hired servant, not otherwise ... I am not angry, but sad, sir."
"Lukyan Timofeich, for pity's sake!"
"Not otherwise! And so it is now, so it is in the present case! Meeting you and following you with my heart and thought, I said to myself: I'm unworthy of friendly communications, but in my quality as landlord I may, perhaps, receive orders in due time, by the expected date, so to speak, or at least notification in view of certain forthcoming and expected changes ..."
As he uttered this, Lebedev simply riveted his sharp little eyes
on the prince, who was staring at him in amazement; he was still hoping to satisfy his curiosity.
"I understand decidedly nothing," the prince cried all but wrathfully, "and . . . you are a terrible intriguer!" He suddenly burst into the most genuine laughter.
Lebedev instantly laughed, too, and his brightened eyes showed at once that his hopes had now become clearer and even twice greater.
"And do you know what I shall tell you, Lukyan Timofeich? Only don't be angry with me, but I'm surprised at your naivety, and not only yours! You expect something from me with such naivety, precisely now, at this moment, that I'm even abashed and ashamed before you, because I have nothing to satisfy you with; but I swear to you that there is decidedly nothing, if you can imagine that!"
The prince laughed again.
Lebedev assumed a dignified air. It is true that he was sometimes even too naive and importunate in his curiosity; but at the same time he was a rather cunning and devious man, and on certain occasions even too insidiously taciturn; by constantly rebuffing him, the prince had almost prepared in him an enemy for himself. But the prince rebuffed him not because he despised him, but because the theme of his curiosity was a delicate one. Only a few days ago the prince had looked upon some of his dreams as upon a crime, but Lukyan Timofeich had taken the prince's retorts as personal revulsion and suspicion towards himself, had gone away with a wounded heart, and was jealous not only of Kolya and Keller, but even of his own daughter, Vera Lukyanovna. Even at that very moment, he could have informed the prince of a certain piece of news interesting for him in the highest degree, and may have sincerely wished to, but he fell gloomily silent and did not inform him.
"In what, essentially, can I be of service to you, my much-esteemed Prince, since all the same you have now . . . summoned me?" he said finally, after some silence.
"It was, essentially, about the general," the prince, who had lapsed into a moment's thought, roused himself, "and . . . concerning that theft of yours, which you informed me about . . ."
"Concerning what, sir?"
"Well, so now it's as if you don't understand me! Oh, God, Lukyan Timofeich, what are all these roles of yours! The money,
the money, the four hundred roubles you lost then, in your wallet, and came here to tell me about, that morning, before going to Petersburg—do you understand finally?"
"Ah, it's about those four hundred roubles!" Lebedev drew out, as if he had only just realized. "Thank you, Prince, for your genuine concern; it is only too flattering for me, but... I found the money, sir, a long time ago."
"Found it! Ah, thank God!"
"A most noble exclamation on your part, for four hundred roubles are a matter of no small importance for a poor man who lives by hard work, with a numerous family of orphans . . ."
"But I didn't mean that! Of course, I'm also glad you found it," the prince quickly corrected his slip, "but. . . how did you find it?"
"Extremely simply, sir. I found it under the chair on which the frock coat was hanging, which obviously means that the wallet slipped out of the pocket onto the floor."
"Under the chair? That can't be, you told me you searched in every corner; how could you have missed it in the most important place?"
"It's a fact that I looked, sir! I remember very, very well that I looked there, sir! I went down on all fours, felt the place with my hands, moved the chair aside, not believing my own eyes: I saw there was nothing there, an empty and smooth space, like the palm of my hand, sir, and I went on feeling all the same. Such faintheartedness always repeats itself with a man when he wants very much to find something ... in the case of a considerable and sad loss, sir: one sees that there's nothing there, an empty space, and yet one looks fifteen times over."
"Yes, granted; only how can it be, though? ... I still don't understand," the prince muttered confusedly. "You say it wasn't there before, that you searched in that spot, and suddenly it turned up there?"
"And suddenly it turned up there, sir!"
The prince gave Lebedev a strange look.
"And the general?" he asked suddenly.
"What about the general, sir?" Lebedev again did not understand.
"Ah, my God! I'm asking you, what did the general say when you found the wallet under the chair? Didn't you look for it together before?"
"Together before, sir. But this time, I confess, sir, I said nothing and preferred not to tell him I found the wallet all by myself."
"Wh . . . why so? Is the money all there?"
"I opened the wallet; the money was all there, even to the last rouble, sir."
"You might at least have come and told me," the prince observed pensively.
"I was afraid to disturb you personally, Prince, considering your personal and, perhaps, extraordinary, so to speak, impressions; besides, I myself made it look as if I hadn't found anything. I opened the wallet, examined it, then closed it and put it back under the chair."
"What on earth for?"
"Just so, sir; out of further curiosity, sir," Lebedev suddenly tittered, rubbing his hands.
"So it's lying there now, for the third day?"
"Oh, no, sir; it lay there only one day. You see, I partly wanted the general to find it, too, sir. Because if I finally found it, why shouldn't the general also find an object sticking out from under the chair and, so to speak, striking the eye? I took that chair several times and moved it, so that the wallet wound up in full view, but the general never noticed it at all, and so it went on for the whole day. He's obviously very absentminded now, and hard to make out; he talks, tells stories, laughs, guffaws, then suddenly gets terribly angry with me, I don't know why, sir. As we were finally going out of the room, I purposely left the door open; he hesitated, was about to say something, probably afraid for the wallet with so much money in it, then suddenly became terribly angry and said nothing, sir; before we'd gone two steps down the street, he abandoned me and went the other way. We came together only that evening in the tavern."