"Oh, Pyotr Petrovitch, you would not believe what a fright you have given me,"
Pulcheria Alexandrovna went on. "I've only seen him twice, but I thought him terrible,
terrible! I am convinced that he was the cause of Marfa Petrovna's death."
"It's impossible to be certain about that. I have precise information. I do not
dispute that he may have contributed to accelerate the course of events by the moral
influence, so to say, of the affront; but as to the general conduct and moral characteristics
of that personage, I am in agreement with you. I do not know whether he is well
off now, and precisely what Marfa Petrovna left him; this will be known to me within
a very short period; but no doubt here in Petersburg, if he has any pecuniary resources,
he will relapse at once into his old ways. He is the most depraved, and abjectly
vicious specimen of that class of men. I have considerable reason to believe that
Marfa Petrovna, who was so unfortunate as to fall in love with him and to pay his
debts eight years ago, was of service to him also in another way. Solely by her
exertions and sacrifices, a criminal charge, involving an element of fantastic and
homicidal brutality for which he might well have been sentenced to Siberia, was
hushed up. That's the sort of man he is, if you care to know."
"Good heavens!" cried Pulcheria Alexandrovna. Raskolnikov listened attentively.
"Are you speaking the truth when you say that you have good evidence of this?"
Dounia asked sternly and emphatically.
"I only repeat what I was told in secret by Marfa Petrovna. I must observe that
from the legal point of view the case was far from clear. There was, and I believe
still is, living here a woman called Resslich, a foreigner, who lent small sums
of money at interest, and did other commissions, and with this woman Svidrigailov
had for a long while close and mysterious relations. She had a relation, a niece
I believe, living with her, a deaf and dumb girl of fifteen, or perhaps not more
than fourteen. Resslich hated this girl, and grudged her every crust; she used to
beat her mercilessly. One day the girl was found hanging in the garret. At the inquest
the verdict was suicide. After the usual proceedings the matter ended, but, later
on, information was given that the child had been… cruelly outraged by Svidrigailov.
It is true, this was not clearly established, the information was given by another
German woman of loose character whose word could not be trusted; no statement was
actually made to the police, thanks to Marfa Petrovna's money and exertions; it
did not get beyond gossip. And yet the story is a very significant one. You heard,
no doubt, Avdotya Romanovna, when you were with them the story of the servant Philip
who died of ill treatment he received six years ago, before the abolition of serfdom."
"I heard on the contrary that this Philip hanged himself."
"Quite so, but what drove him, or rather perhaps disposed him, to suicide, was
the systematic persecution and severity of Mr. Svidrigailov."
"I don't know that," answered Dounia, dryly. "I only heard a queer story that
Philip was a sort of hypochondriac, a sort of domestic philosopher, the servants
used to say, 'he read himself silly,' and that he hanged himself partly on account
of Mr. Svidrigailov's mockery of him and not his blows. When I was there he behaved
well to the servants, and they were actually fond of him, though they certainly
did blame him for Philip's death."
"I perceive, Avdotya Romanovna, that you seem disposed to undertake his defence
all of a sudden," Luzhin observed, twisting his lips into an ambiguous smile, "there's
no doubt that he is an astute man, and insinuating where ladies are concerned, of
which Marfa Petrovna, who has died so strangely, is a terrible instance. My only
desire has been to be of service to you and your mother with my advice, in view
of the renewed efforts which may certainly be anticipated from him. For my part
it's my firm conviction, that he will end in a debtor's prison again. Marfa Petrovna
had not the slightest intention of settling anything substantial on him, having
regard for his children's interests, and, if she left him anything, it would only
be the merest sufficiency, something insignificant and ephemeral, which would not
last a year for a man of his habits."
"Pyotr Petrovitch, I beg you," said Dounia, "say no more of Mr. Svidrigailov.
It makes me miserable."
"He has just been to see me," said Raskolnikov, breaking his silence for the
There were exclamations from all, and they all turned to him. Even Pyotr Petrovitch
"An hour and a half ago, he came in when I was asleep, waked me, and introduced
himself," Raskolnikov continued. "He was fairly cheerful and at ease, and quite
hopes that we shall become friends. He is particularly anxious by the way, Dounia,
for an interview with you, at which he asked me to assist. He has a proposition
to make to you, and he told me about it. He told me, too, that a week before her
death Marfa Petrovna left you three thousand roubles in her will, Dounia, and that
you can receive the money very shortly."
"Thank God!" cried Pulcheria Alexandrovna, crossing herself. "Pray for her soul,
"It's a fact!" broke from Luzhin.
"Tell us, what more?" Dounia urged Raskolnikov.
"Then he said that he wasn't rich and all the estate was left to his children
who are now with an aunt, then that he was staying somewhere not far from me, but
where, I don't know, I didn't ask…."
"But what, what does he want to propose to Dounia?" cried Pulcheria Alexandrovna
in a fright. "Did he tell you?"
"What was it?"
"I'll tell you afterwards."
Raskolnikov ceased speaking and turned his attention to his tea.
Pyotr Petrovitch looked at his watch.
"I am compelled to keep a business engagement, and so I shall not be in your
way," he added with an air of some pique and he began getting up.
"Don't go, Pyotr Petrovitch," said Dounia, "you intended to spend the evening.
Besides, you wrote yourself that you wanted to have an explanation with mother."
"Precisely so, Avdotya Romanovna," Pyotr Petrovitch answered impressively, sitting
down again, but still holding his hat. "I certainly desired an explanation with
you and your honoured mother upon a very important point indeed. But as your brother
cannot speak openly in my presence to some proposals of Mr. Svidrigailov, I, too,
do not desire and am not able to speak openly… in the presence of others… of certain
matters of the greatest gravity. Moreover, my most weighty and urgent request has
Assuming an aggrieved air, Luzhin relapsed into dignified silence.
"Your request that my brother should not be present at our meeting was disregarded
solely at my instance," said Dounia. "You wrote that you had been insulted by my
brother; I think that this must be explained at once, and you must be reconciled.
And if Rodya really has insulted you, then he should and will apologise."
Pyotr Petrovitch took a stronger line.
"There are insults, Avdotya Romanovna, which no good-will can make us forget.
There is a line in everything which it is dangerous to overstep; and when it has
been overstepped, there is no return."
"That wasn't what I was speaking of exactly, Pyotr Petrovitch," Dounia interrupted
with some impatience. "Please understand that our whole future depends now on whether
all this is explained and set right as soon as possible. I tell you frankly at the
start that I cannot look at it in any other light, and if you have the least regard
for me, all this business must be ended to-day, however hard that may be. I repeat
that if my brother is to blame he will ask your forgiveness."
"I am surprised at your putting the question like that," said Luzhin, getting
more and more irritated. "Esteeming, and so to say, adoring you, I may at the same
time, very well indeed, be able to dislike some member of your family. Though I
lay claim to the happiness of your hand, I cannot accept duties incompatible with…"
"Ah, don't be so ready to take offence, Pyotr Petrovitch," Dounia interrupted
with feeling, "and be the sensible and generous man I have always considered, and
wish to consider, you to be. I've given you a great promise, I am your betrothed.
Trust me in this matter and, believe me, I shall be capable of judging impartially.
My assuming the part of judge is as much a surprise for my brother as for you. When
I insisted on his coming to our interview to-day after your letter, I told him nothing
of what I meant to do. Understand that, if you are not reconciled, I must choose
between you– it must be either you or he. That is how the question rests on your
side and on his. I don't want to be mistaken in my choice, and I must not be. For
your sake I must break off with my brother, for my brother's sake I must break off
with you. I can find out for certain now whether he is a brother to me, and I want
to know it; and of you, whether I am dear to you, whether you esteem me, whether
you are the husband for me."
"Avdotya Romanovna," Luzhin declared huffily, "your words are of too much consequence
to me; I will say more, they are offensive in view of the position I have the honour
to occupy in relation to you. To say nothing of your strange and offensive setting
me on a level with an impertinent boy, you admit the possibility of breaking your
promise to me. You say 'you or he,' showing thereby of how little consequence I
am in your eyes… I cannot let this pass considering the relationship and… the obligations
existing between us."
"What!" cried Dounia, flushing. "I set your interest beside all that has hitherto
been most precious in my life, what has made up the whole of my life, and here you
are offended at my making too little account of you."
Raskolnikov smiled sarcastically, Razumihin fidgeted, but Pyotr Petrovitch did
not accept the reproof; on the contrary, at every word he became more persistent
and irritable, as though he relished it.
"Love for the future partner of your life, for your husband, ought to outweigh
your love for your brother," he pronounced sententiously, "and in any case I cannot
be put on the same level…. Although I said so emphatically that I would not speak
openly in your brother's presence, nevertheless, I intend now to ask your honoured
mother for a necessary explanation on a point of great importance closely affecting
my dignity. Your son," he turned to Pulcheria Alexandrovna, "yesterday in the presence
of Mr. Razsudkin (or… I think that's it? excuse me I have forgotten your surname,"
he bowed politely to Razumihin) "insulted me by misrepresenting the idea I expressed
to you in a private conversation, drinking coffee, that is, that marriage with a
poor girl who has had experience of trouble is more advantageous from the conjugal
point of view than with one who has lived in luxury, since it is more profitable
for the moral character. Your son intentionally exaggerated the significance of
my words and made them ridiculous, accusing me of malicious intentions, and, as
far as I could see, relied upon your correspondence with him. I shall consider myself
happy, Pulcheria Alexandrovna, if it is possible for you to convince me of an opposite
conclusion, and thereby considerately reassure me. Kindly let me know in what terms
precisely you repeated my words in your letter to Rodion Romanovitch."
"I don't remember," faltered Pulcheria Alexandrovna. "I repeated them as I understood
them. I don't know how Rodya repeated them to you, perhaps he exaggerated."
"He could not have exaggerated them, except at your instigation."
"Pyotr Petrovitch," Pulcheria Alexandrovna declared with dignity, "the proof
that Dounia and I did not take your words in a very bad sense is the fact that we
"Good, mother," said Dounia approvingly.
"Then this is my fault again," said Luzhin, aggrieved.
"Well, Pyotr Petrovitch, you keep blaming Rodion, but you yourself have just
written what was false about him," Pulcheria Alexandrovna added, gaining courage.
"I don't remember writing anything false."
"You wrote," Raskolnikov said sharply, not turning to Luzhin, "that I gave money
yesterday not to the widow of the man who was killed, as was the fact, but to his
daughter (whom I had never seen till yesterday). You wrote this to make dissension
between me and my family, and for that object added coarse expressions about the
conduct of a girl whom you don't know. All that is mean slander."
"Excuse me, sir," said Luzhin, quivering with fury. "I enlarged upon your qualities
and conduct in my letter solely in response to your sister's and mother's inquiries
how I found you and what impression you made on me. As for what you've alluded to
in my letter, be so good as to point out one word of falsehood, show, that is, that
you didn't throw away your money, and that there are not worthless persons in that
family, however unfortunate."
"To my thinking, you with all your virtues are not worth the little finger of
that unfortunate girl at whom you throw stones."
"Would you go so far then as to let her associate with your mother and sister?"
"I have done so already, if you care to know. I made her sit down to-day with
mother and Dounia."
"Rodya!" cried Pulcheria Alexandrovna. Dounia crimsoned, Razumihin knitted his
brows. Luzhin smiled with lofty sarcasm.
"You may see for yourself, Avdotya Romanovna," he said, "whether it is possible
for us to agree. I hope now that this question is at an end, once and for all. I
will withdraw, that I may not hinder the pleasures of family intimacy, and the discussion
of secrets." He got up from his chair and took his hat. "But in withdrawing, I venture
to request that for the future I may be spared similar meetings, and, so to say,
compromises. I appeal particularly to you, honoured Pulcheria Alexandrovna, on this
subject, the more as my letter was addressed to you and to no one else."