Most Interesting Stories of All Nations Part 19

"But how do you know the article was mine? I only signed it with an initial."

"I discovered it lately, quite by chance. The chief editor is a friend of mine; it was he who let out the secret of your authorship. The article has greatly interested me."

"I was a.n.a.lyzing, if I remember rightly, the psychological condition of a criminal at the moment of his deed."

"Yes, and you strove to prove that a criminal, at such a moment, is always, mentally, more or less unhinged. That point of view is a very original one, but it was not this part of your article which most interested me. I was particularly struck by an idea at the end of the article, and which, unfortunately, you have touched upon too cursorily. In a word, if you remember, you maintained that there are men in existence who can, or more accurately, who have an absolute right to commit all kinds of wicked, and criminal acts-- men for whom, to a certain extent, laws do not exist."

"Is it not very likely that some coming Napoleon did for Alena Ivanovna last week?" suddenly bl.u.s.tered Zametoff from his corner.

Without saying a word, Raskolnikoff fixed on Porphyrius a firm and penetrating glance. Raskolnikoff was beginning to look sullen. He seemed to have been suspecting something for some time past. He looked round him with an irritable air. For a moment there was an ominous silence. Raskolnikoff was getting ready to go.

"What, are you off already?" asked Porphyrius, kindly offering the young man his hand with extreme affability. "I am delighted to have made your acquaintance. And as for your application, don't be uneasy about it. Write in the way I suggested. Or, perhaps, you had better do this. Come and see me before long--to-morrow, if you like. I shall be here without fail at eleven o'clock. We can make everything right--we'll have a chat--and as you were one of the last that went THERE, you might be able to give some further particulars?" he added, with his friendly smile.

"Do you wish to examine me formally?" Raskolnikoff inquired, in an uncomfortable tone.

"Why should I? Such a thing is out of the question. You have misunderstood me. I ought to tell you that I manage to make the most of every opportunity. I have already had a chat with every single person that has been in the habit of pledging things with the old woman--several have given me very useful information--and as you happen to be the last one-- By the by," he exclaimed with sudden pleasure, "how lucky I am thinking about it, I was really going to forget it!" (Saying which he turned to Razoumikhin.) "You were almost stunning my ears, the other day, talking about Mikolka. Well, I am certain, quite certain, as to his innocence,"

he went on, once more addressing himself to Raskolnikoff. "But what was to be done? It has been necessary to disturb Dmitri.

Now, what I wanted to ask was: On going upstairs--was it not between seven and eight you entered the house?"

"Yes," replied Raskolnikoff and he immediately regretted an answer he ought to have avoided.

"Well, in going upstairs, between seven and eight, did you not see on the second floor, in one of the rooms, when the door was wide open--you remember, I dare say?--did you not see two painters or, at all events, one of the two? They were whitewashing the room, I believe; you must have seen them! The matter is of the utmost importance to them!"

"Painters, you say? I saw none," replied Raskolnikoff slowly, trying to sound his memory: for a moment he violently strained it to discover, as quickly as he could, the trap concealed by the magistrate's question. "No, I did not see a single one; I did not even see any room standing open," he went on, delighted at having discovered the trap, "but on the fourth floor I remember noticing that the man lodging on the same landing as Alena Ivanovna was in the act of moving. I remember that very well, as I met a few soldiers carrying a sofa, and I was obliged to back against the wall; but, as for painters, I don't remember seeing a single one--I don't even remember a room that had its door open. No, I saw nothing."

"But what are you talking about?" all at once exclaimed Razoumikhin, who, till that moment, had attentively listened; "it was on the very day of the murder that painters were busy in that room, while he came there two days previously! Why are you asking that question?"

"Right! I have confused the dates!" cried Porphyrius, tapping his forehead. "Deuce take me! That job makes me lose my head!" he added by way of excuse, and speaking to Raskolnikoff. "It is very important that we should know if anybody saw them in that room between seven and eight. I thought I might have got that information from you without thinking any more about it. I had positively confused the days!"

"You ought to be more attentive!" grumbled Razoumikhin.

These last words were uttered in the anteroom, as Porhyrius very civilly led his visitors to the door. They were gloomy and morose on leaving the house, and had gone some distance before speaking.

Raskolnikoff breathed like a man who had just been subjected to a severe trial.

When, on the following day, precisely at eleven o'clock, Raskolnikoff called on the examining magistrate, he was astonished to have to dance attendance for a considerable time. According to his idea, he ought to have been admitted immediately; ten minutes, however, elapsed before he could see Porphyrius Petrovitch. In the outer room where he had been waiting, people came and went without heeding him in the least. In the next room, which was a kind of office, a few clerks were at work, and it was evident that not one of them had even an idea who Raskolnikoff might be. The young man cast a mistrustful look about him. "Was there not," thought he, "some spy, some mysterious myrmidon of the law, ordered to watch him, and, if necessary, to prevent his escape?" But he noticed nothing of the kind; the clerks were all hard at work, and the other people paid him no kind of attention. The visitor began to become rea.s.sured. "If," thought he, "this mysterious personage of yesterday, this specter which had risen from the bowels of the earth, knew all, and had seen all, would they, I should like to know, let me stand about like this? Would they not rather have arrested me, instead of waiting till I should come of my own accord? Hence this man has either made no kind of revelation as yet about me, or, more probably, he knows nothing, and has seen nothing (besides how could he have seen anything?): consequently I have misjudged, and all that happened yesterday was nothing but an illusion of my diseased imagination." This explanation, which had offered itself the day before to his mind, at the time he felt most fearful, he considered a more likely one.

Whilst thinking about all this and getting ready for a new struggle, Raskolnikoff suddenly perceived that he was trembling; he became indignant at the very thought that it was fear of an interview with the hateful Porphyrius Petrovitch which led him to do so. The most terrible thing to him was to find himself once again in presence of this man. He hated him beyond all expression, and what he dreaded was lest he might show this hatred. His indignation was so great that it suddenly stopped this trembling; he therefore prepared himself to enter with a calm and self- possessed air, promised himself to speak as little as possible, to be very carefully on the watch in order to check, above all things, his irascible disposition. In the midst of these reflections, he was introduced to Porphyrius Petrovitch. The latter was alone in his office, a room of medium dimensions, containing a large table, facing a sofa covered with shiny leather, a bureau, a cupboard standing in a corner, and a few chairs: all this furniture, provided by the State, was of yellow wood. In the wall, or rather in the wainscoting of the other end, there was a closed door, which led one to think that there were other rooms behind it. As soon as Porphyrius Petrovitch had seen Raskolnikoff enter his office, he went to close the door which had given him admission, and both stood facing one another. The magistrate received his visitor to all appearances in a pleasant and affable manner, and it was only at the expiration of a few moments that the latter observed the magistrate's somewhat embarra.s.sed manner--he seemed to have been disturbed in a more or less clandestine occupation.

"Good! my respectable friend! Here you are then--in our lat.i.tudes!" commenced Porphyrius, holding out both hands. "Pray, be seated, batuchka! But, perhaps, you don't like being called respectable? Therefore, batuchka, for short! Pray, don't think me familiar. Sit down here on the sofa."

Raskolnikoff did so without taking his eyes off the judge. "These words 'in our lat.i.tudes,' these excuses for his familiarity, this expression 'for short,' what could be the meaning of all this? He held out his hands to me without shaking mine, withdrawing them before I could do so, thought Raskolnikoff mistrustfully. Both watched each other, but no sooner did their eyes meet than they both turned them aside with the rapidity of a flash of lightning.

"I have called with this paper--about the-- If you please. Is it correct, or must another form be drawn up?"

"What, what paper? Oh, yes! Do not put yourself out. It is perfectly correct," answered Porphyrius somewhat hurriedly, before he had even examined it; then, after having cast a glance on it, he said, speaking very rapidly: "Quite right, that is all that is required," and placed the sheet on the table. A moment later he locked it up in his bureau, chattering about other things.

"Yesterday," observed Raskolnikoff, "you had, I fancy, a wish to examine me formally--with reference to my dealings with--the victim? At least so it seemed to me!"

"Why did I say, 'So it seemed?'" reflected the young man all of a sudden. "After all, what can be the harm of it? Why should I distress myself about that!" he added, mentally, a moment afterwards. The very fact of his proximity to Porphyrius, with whom he had scarcely as yet interchanged a word, had immeasurably increased his mistrust; he marked this in a moment, and concluded that such a mood was an exceedingly dangerous one, inasmuch as his agitation, his nervous irritation, would only increase. "That is bad! very bad! I shall be saying something thoughtless!"

"Quite right. But do not put yourself out of the way, there is time, plenty of time," murmured Petrovitch, who, without apparent design, kept going to and fro, now approaching the window, now his bureau, to return a moment afterwards to the table. At times he would avoid Raskolnikoff's suspicious look, at times again he drew up sharp whilst looking his visitor straight in the face. The sight of this short chubby man, whose movements recalled those of a ball rebounding from wall to wall, was an extremely odd one. "No hurry, no hurry, I a.s.sure you! But you smoke, do you not! Have you any tobacco? Here is a cigarette!" he went on, offering his visitor a paquitos. "You notice that I am receiving you here, but my quarters are there behind the wainscoting. The State provides me with that. I am here as it were on the wing, because certain alterations are being made in my rooms. Everything is almost straight now. Do you know that quarters provided by the State are by no means to be despised?"

"I believe you," answered Raskolnikoff, looking at him almost derisively.

"Not to be despised, by any means," repeated Porphyrius Petrovitch, whose mind seemed to be preoccupied with something else--"not to be despised!" he continued in a very loud tone of voice, and drawing himself up close to Raskolnikoff, whom he stared out of countenance. The incessant repet.i.tion of the statement that quarters provided by the State were by no means to be despised contrasted singularly, by its plat.i.tude, with the serious, profound, enigmatical look he now cast on his visitor.

Raskolnikoff's anger grew in consequence; he could hardly help returning the magistrate's look with an imprudently scornful glance. "Is it true?" the latter commenced, with a complacently insolent air, "is it true that it is a judicial maxim, a maxim resorted to by all magistrates, to begin an interview about trifling things, or even, occasionally, about more serious matter, foreign to the main question however, with a view to embolden, to distract, or even to lull the suspicion of a person under examination, and then all of a sudden to crush him with the main question, just as you strike a man a blow straight between the eyes?"

"Such a custom, I believe, is religiously observed in your profession, is it not?

"Then you are of opinion that when I spoke to you about quarters provided by the State, I did so--" Saying which, Porphyrius Petrovitch blinked, his face a.s.sumed for a moment an expression of roguish gayety, the wrinkles on his brow became smoothed, his small eyes grew smaller still, his features expanded, and, looking Raskolnikoff straight in the face, he burst out into a prolonged fit of nervous laughter, which shook him from head to foot. The young man, on his part, laughed likewise, with more or less of an effort, however, at sight of which Porphyrius's hilarity increased to such an extent that his face grew nearly crimson. At this Raskolnikoff experienced more or less aversion, which led him to forget all caution; he ceased laughing, knitting his brows, and, whilst Porphyrius gave way to his hilarity, which seemed a somewhat feigned one, he fixed on him a look of hatred. In truth, they were both off their guard. Porphyrius had, in fact, laughed at his visitor, who had taken this in bad part; whereas the former seemed to care but little about Raskolnikoff's displeasure. This circ.u.mstance gave the young man much matter for thought. He fancied that his visit had in no kind of way discomposed the magistrate; on the contrary, it was Raskolnikoff who had been caught in a trap, a snare, an ambush of some kind or other. The mine was, perhaps, already charged, and might burst at any moment.

Anxious to get straight to the point, Raskolnikoff rose and took up his cap. "Porphyrius Petrovitch," he cried, in a resolute tone of voice, betraying more or less irritation, "yesterday you expressed the desire to subject me to a judicial examination." (He laid special stress on this last word.) "I have called at your bidding; if you have questions to put, do so: if not, allow me to withdraw.

I can't afford to waste my time here, as I have other things to attend to. In a word, I must go to the funeral of the official who has been run over, and of whom you have heard speak," he added, regretting, however, the last part of his sentence. Then, with increasing anger, he went on: "Let me tell you that all this worries me! The thing is hanging over much too long. It is that mainly that has made me ill. In one word,"--he continued, his voice seeming more and more irritable, for he felt that the remark about his illness was yet more out of place than the previous one-- "in one word, either be good enough to cross-examine me, or let me go this very moment. If you do question me, do so in the usual formal way; otherwise, I shall object. In the meanwhile, adieu, since we have nothing more to do with one another."

"Good gracious! What can you be talking about? Question you about what?" replied the magistrate, immediately ceasing his laugh.

"Don't, I beg, disturb yourself." He requested Raskolnikoff to sit down once more, continuing, nevertheless, his tramp about the room.

"There is time, plenty of time. The matter is not of such importance after all. On the contrary, I am delighted at your visit--for as such do I take your call. As for my horrid way of laughing, batuchka, Rodion Romanovitch, I must apologize. I am a nervous man, and the shrewdness of your observations has tickled me. There are times when I go up and down like an elastic ball, and that for half an hour at a time. I am fond of laughter. My temperament leads me to dread apoplexy. But, pray, do sit down-- why remain standing? Do, I must request you, batuchka; otherwise I shall fancy that you are cross."

His brows still knit, Raskolnikoff held his tongue, listened, and watched. In the meanwhile he sat down.

"As far as I am concerned, batuchka, Rodion Romanovitch, I will tell you something which shall reveal to you my disposition,"

answered Porphyrius Petrovitch, continuing to fidget about the room, and, as before, avoiding his visitor's gaze. "I live alone, you must know, never go into society, and am, therefore, unknown; add to which, that I am a man on the shady side of forty, somewhat played out. You may have noticed, Rodion Romanovitch, that here--I mean in Russia, of course, and especially in St. Petersburg circles--that when two intelligent men happen to meet who, as yet, are not familiar, but who, however, have mutual esteem--as, for instance, you and I have at this moment--don't know what to talk about for half an hour at a time. They seem, both of them, as if petrified. Everyone else has a subject for conversation--ladies, for instance, people in society, the upper ten--all these sets have some topic or other. It is the thing, but somehow people of the middle-cla.s.s, like you and I, seem constrained and taciturn. How does that come about, batuchka? Have we no social interests? Or is it, rather, owing to our being too straightforward to mislead one another? I don't know. What is your opinion, pray? But do, I beg, remove your cap; one would really fancy that you wanted to be off, and that pains me. I, you must know, am so contented."

Raskolnikoff laid his cap down. He did not, however, become more loquacious; and, with knit brows, listened to Porphyrius's idle chatter. "I suppose," thought he, "he only doles out his small talk to distract my attention."

"I don't offer you any coffee," went on the inexhaustible Porphyrius, "because this is not the place for it, but can you not spend a few minutes with a friend, by way of causing him some little distraction? You must know that all these professional obligations--don't be vexed, batuchka, if you see me walking about like this, I am sure you will excuse me, if I tell you how anxious I am not to do so, but movement is so indispensable to me! I am always seated--and, to me, it is quite a luxury to be able to move about for a minute or two. I purpose, in fact, to go through a course of calisthenics. The trapeze is said to stand in high favor amongst State counselors--counselors in office, even amongst privy counselors. Nowadays, in fact, gymnastics have become a positive science. As for these duties of our office, these examinations, all this formality--you yourself, you will remember, touched upon the topic just now, batuchka--these examinations, and so forth, sometimes perplex the magistrate much more than the man under suspicion. You said as much just now with as much sense as accuracy." (Raskolnikoff had made no statement of the kind.) "One gets confused, one loses the thread of the investigation. Yet, as far as our judicial customs go, I agree with you fully. Where, for instance, is there a man under suspicion of some kind or other, were it even the most thick-headed moujik, who does not know that the magistrate will commence by putting all sorts of out-of-the-way questions to take him off the scent (if I may be allowed to use your happy simile), and that then he suddenly gives him one between the eyes? A blow of the ax on his sinciput (if again I may be permitted to use your ingenious metaphor)? Hah, hah! And do you mean to say that when I spoke to you about quarters provided by the State, that--hah, hah! You are very caustic. But I won't revert to that again. By-and-by!--one remark produces another, one thought attracts another--but you were talking just now of the practice or form in vogue with the examining magistrate. But what is this form? You know as I do that in many cases the form means nothing at all. Occasionally a simple conversation, a friendly interview, brings about a more certain result. The practice or form will never die out--I can vouch for that; but what, after all, is the form, I ask once more? You can't compel an examining magistrate to be hampered or bound by it everlastingly. His duty or method is in its way, one of the liberal professions or something very much like it."

Porphyrius Petrovitch stopped a moment to take breath. He kept on talking, now uttering pure nonsense, now again introducing, in spite of this trash, an occasional enigmatical remark, after which he went on with his insipidities. His tramp about the room was more like a race--he moved his stout legs more and more quickly, without looking up; his right hand was thrust deep in the pocket of his coat, whilst with the left he unceasingly gesticulated in a way unconnected with his observations. Raskolnikoff noticed, or fancied he noticed, that, whilst running round and round the room, he had twice stopped near the door, seeming to listen. "Does he expect something?" he asked himself.

"You're perfectly right," resumed Porphyrius cheerily, whilst looking at the young man with a kindliness which immediately awoke the latter's distrust. "Our judicial customs deserve your satire.

Our proceedings, which are supposed to be inspired by a profound knowledge of psychology, are very ridiculous ones, and very often useless. Now, to return to our method or form: Suppose for a moment that I am deputed to investigate something or other, and that I know the guilty person to be a certain gentleman. Are you not yourself reading for the law, Rodion Romanovitch?"

"I was some time ago."

"Well, here is a kind of example which may be of use to you later on. Don't run away with the idea that I am setting up as your instructor--G.o.d forbid that I should presume to teach anything to a man who treats criminal questions in the public press! Oh, no!-- all I am doing is to quote to you, by way of example, a trifling fact. Suppose that I fancy I am convinced of the guilt of a certain man, why, I ask you, should I frighten him prematurely, a.s.suming me to have every evidence against him? Of course, in the case of another man of a different disposition, him I would have arrested forthwith; but, as to the former, why should I not permit him to hang about a little longer? I see you do not quite take me.

I will, therefore, endeavor to explain myself more clearly! If, for instance, I should be too quick in issuing a writ, I provide him in doing so with a species of moral support or mainstay--I see you are laughing?" (Raskolnikoff, on the contrary, had no such desire; his lips were set, and his glaring look was not removed from Porphyrius's eyes.) "I a.s.sure you that in actual practice such is really the case; men vary much, although, unfortunately, our methods are the same for all. But you will ask me: Supposing you are certain of your proofs? Goodness me, batuchka! you know, perhaps as well as I do, what proofs are--half one's time, proofs may be taken either way; and I, a magistrate, am, after all, only a man liable to error.

"Now, what I want is to give to my investigation the precision of a mathematical demonstration--I want my conclusions to be as plain, as indisputable, as that twice two are four. Now, supposing I have this gentleman arrested prematurely, though I may be positively certain that he is THE MAN, yet I deprive myself of all future means of proving his guilt. How is that? Because, so to say, I give him, to a certain extent, a definite status; for, by putting him in prison, I pacify him. I give him the chance of investigating his actual state of mind--he will escape me, for he will reflect. In a word, he knows that he is a prisoner, and nothing more. If, on the contrary, I take no kind of notice of the man I fancy guilty, if I do not have him arrested, if I in no way set him on his guard--but if the unfortunate creature is hourly, momentarily, possessed by the suspicion that I know all, that I do not lose sight of him either by night or by day, that he is the object of my indefatigable vigilance--what do you ask will take place under these circ.u.mstances? He will lose his self-possession, he will come of his own accord to me, he will provide me with ample evidence against himself, and will enable me to give to the conclusion of my inquiry the accuracy of mathematical proofs, which is not without its charm.

"If such a course succeeds with an uncultured moujik, it is equally efficacious when it concerns an enlightened, intelligent, or even distinguished man. For the main thing, my dear friend, is to determine in what sense a man is developed. The man, I mean, is intelligent, but he has nerves which are OVER-strung. And as for bile--the bile you are forgetting, that plays no small part with similar folk! Believe me, here we have a very mine of information!

And what is it to me whether such a man walk about the place in perfect liberty? Let him be at ease--I know him to be my prey, and that he won't escape me! Where, I ask you, could he go to? You may say abroad. A Pole may do so--but my man, never! especially as I watch him, and have taken steps in consquence. Is he likely to escape into the very heart of our country? Not he! for there dwell coa.r.s.e moujiks, and primitive Russians, without any kind of civilization. My educated friend would prefer going to prison, rather than be in the midst of such surroundings. Besides, what I have been saying up to the present is not the main point--it is the exterior and accessory aspect of the question. He won't escape-- not only because he won't know where to go to, but especially, and above all, because he is mine from the PSYCHOLOGICAL point of view.

What do you think of this explanation? In virtue of a natural law, he will not escape, even if he could do so! Have you ever seen a b.u.t.terfly close to the candle? My man will hover incessantly round me in the same way as the b.u.t.terfly gyrates round the candle-light.

Liberty will have no longer charms for him; he will grow more and more restless, more and more amazed--let me but give him plenty of time, and he will demean himself in a way to prove his guilt as plainly as that twice two our four! Yes, he will keep hovering about me, describing circles, smaller and smaller, till at last-- bang! He has flown into my clutches, and I have got him. That is very nice. You don't think so, perhaps?"

Raskolnikoff kept silent. Pale and immovable, he continued to watch Porphyrius's face with a labored effort of attention. "The lesson is a good one!" he reflected. "But it is not, as yesterday, a case of the cat playing with the mouse. Of course, he does not talk to me in this way for the mere pleasure of showing me his hand; he is much too intelligent for that. He must have something else in view--what can it be? Come, friend, what you do say is only to frighten me. You have no kind of evidence, and the man of yesterday does not exist! All you wish is to perplex me--to enrage me, so as to enable you to make your last move, should you catch me in such a mood, but you will not; all your pains will be in vain!

But why should he speak in such covert terms? I presume he must be speculating on the excitability of my nervous system. But, dear friend, that won't go down, in spite of your machinations. We will try and find out what you really have been driving at."