Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoevsky (mini ebook reader .TXT) 📗

my letter: know then, my dear

boy, that we may, perhaps, be all together

in a very short time and may embrace one

another again after a separation of almost

three years! It is settled for certain that Dounia and I are to set off for Petersburg,

exactly when I don’t know, but very, very

soon, possibly in a week. It all depends on

Pyotr Petrovitch who will let us know

when he has had time to look round him

in Petersburg. To suit his own

arrangements he is anxious to have the

ceremony as soon as possible, even before

the fast of Our Lady, if it could be

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managed, or if that is too soon to be ready,

immediately after. Oh, with what happiness

I shall press you to my heart! Dounia is all

excitement at the joyful thought of seeing

you, she said one day in joke that she

would be ready to marry Pyotr Petrovitch

for that alone. She is an angel! She is not

writing anything to you now, and has only

told me to write that she has so much, so

much to tell you that she is not going to

take up her pen now, for a few lines would

tell you nothing, and it would only mean

upsetting herself; she bids me send you her

love and innumerable kisses. But although

we shall be meeting so soon, perhaps I shall

send you as much money as I can in a day

or two. Now that everyone has heard that

Dounia is to marry Pyotr Petrovitch, my

credit has suddenly improved and I know

that Afanasy Ivanovitch will trust me now

even to seventy-five roubles on the security

of my pension, so that perhaps I shall be

able to send you twenty-five or even thirty

roubles. I would send you more, but I am

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uneasy about our travelling expenses; for

though Pyotr Petrovitch has been so kind

as to undertake part of the expenses of the

journey, that is to say, he has taken upon

himself the conveyance of our bags and big

trunk (which will be conveyed through

some acquaintances of his), we must reckon

upon some expense on our arrival in

Petersburg, where we can’t be left without

a halfpenny, at least for the first few days.

But we have calculated it all, Dounia and I,

to the last penny, and we see that the

journey will not cost very much. It is only

ninety versts from us to the railway and we

have come to an agreement with a driver

we know, so as to be in readiness; and from

there Dounia and I can travel quite

comfortably third class. So that I may very

likely be able to send to you not twenty-

five, but thirty roubles. But enough; I have

covered two sheets already and there is no

space left for more; our whole history, but

so many events have happened! And now,

my precious Rodya, I embrace you and

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send you a mother’s blessing till we meet.

Love Dounia your sister, Rodya; love her

as she loves you and understand that she

loves you beyond everything, more than

herself. She is an angel and you, Rodya,

you are everything to us—our one hope,

our one consolation. If only you are happy,

we shall be happy. Do you still say your

prayers, Rodya, and believe in the mercy

of our Creator and our Redeemer? I am

afraid in my heart that you may have been

visited by the new spirit of infidelity that is abroad to-day; If it is so, I pray for you.

Remember, dear boy, how in your

childhood, when your father was living,

you used to lisp your prayers at my knee,

and how happy we all were in those days.

Good-bye, till we meet then— I embrace

you warmly, warmly, with many kisses.

‘Yours till death,

‘PULCHERIA RASKOLNIKOV.’

Almost from the first, while he read the letter, Raskolnikov’s face was wet with tears; but when he finished it, his face was pale and distorted and a bitter, 79 of 967

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wrathful and malignant smile was on his lips. He laid his head down on his threadbare dirty pillow and pondered, pondered a long time. His heart was beating violently, and his brain was in a turmoil. At last he felt cramped and stifled in the little yellow room that was like a cupboard or a box. His eyes and his mind craved for space. He took up his hat and went out, this time without dread of meeting anyone; he had forgotten his dread. He turned in the direction of the Vassilyevsky Ostrov, walking along Vassilyevsky Prospect, as though hastening on some business, but he walked, as his habit was, without noticing his way, muttering and even speaking aloud to himself, to the astonishment of the passers-by. Many of them took him to be drunk.

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Chapter IV

His mother’s letter had been a torture to him, but as regards the chief fact in it, he had felt not one moment’s hesitation, even whilst he was reading the letter. The essential question was settled, and irrevocably settled, in his mind: ‘Never such a marriage while I am alive and Mr.

Luzhin be damned!’ ‘The thing is perfectly clear,’ he muttered to himself, with a malignant smile anticipating the triumph of his decision. ‘No, mother, no, Dounia, you won’t deceive me! and then they apologise for not asking my advice and for taking the decision without me! I dare say! They imagine it is arranged now and can’t be broken off; but we will see whether it can or not! A magnificent excuse: ‘Pyotr Petrovitch is such a busy man that even his wedding has to be in post-haste, almost by express.’ No, Dounia, I see it all and I know what you want to say to me; and I know too what you were thinking about, when you walked up and down all night, and what your prayers were like before the Holy Mother of Kazan who stands in mother’s bedroom. Bitter is the ascent to Golgotha…. Hm

… so it is finally settled; you have determined to marry a sensible business man, Avdotya Romanovna, one who has 81 of 967

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a fortune (has already made his fortune, that is so much more solid and impressive) a man who holds two government posts and who shares the ideas of our most rising generation, as mother writes, and who seems to be kind, as Dounia herself observes. That seems beats everything! And that very Dounia for that very ‘ seems’ is marrying him! Splendid! splendid!

‘… But I should like to know why mother has written to me about ‘our most rising generation’? Simply as a descriptive touch, or with the idea of prepossessing me in favour of Mr. Luzhin? Oh, the cunning of them! I should like to know one thing more: how far they were open with one another that day and night and all this time since? Was it all put into words or did both understand that they had the same thing at heart and in their minds, so that there was no need to speak of it aloud, and better not to speak of it. Most likely it was partly like that, from mother’s letter it’s evident: he struck her as rude a little and mother in her simplicity took her observations to Dounia.

And she was sure to be vexed and ‘answered her angrily.’ I should think so! Who would not be angered when it was quite clear without any naïve questions and when it was understood that it was useless to discuss it. And why does she write to me, ‘love Dounia, Rodya, and she loves you 82 of 967

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more than herself’? Has she a secret conscience-prick at sacrificing her daughter to her son? ‘You are our one comfort, you are everything to us.’ Oh, mother!’

His bitterness grew more and more intense, and if he had happened to meet Mr. Luzhin at the moment, he might have murdered him.

‘Hm … yes, that’s true,’ he continued, pursuing the whirling ideas that chased each other in his brain, ‘it is true that ‘it needs time and care to get to know a man,’ but there is no mistake about Mr. Luzhin. The chief thing is he is ‘a man of business and seems kind,’ that was something, wasn’t it, to send the bags and big box for them! A kind man, no doubt after that! But his bride and her mother are to drive in a peasant’s cart covered with sacking (I know, I have been driven in it). No matter! It is only ninety versts and then they can ‘travel very comfortably, third class,’ for a thousand versts! Quite right, too. One must cut one’s coat according to one’s cloth, but what about you, Mr. Luzhin? She is your bride…. And you must be aware that her mother has to raise money on her pension for the journey. To be sure it’s a matter of business, a partnership for mutual benefit, with equal shares and expenses;—food and drink provided, but pay for your tobacco. The business man has got the better of 83 of 967

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them, too. The luggage will cost less than their fares and very likely go for nothing. How is it that they don’t both see all that, or is it that they don’t want to see? And they are pleased, pleased! And to think that this is only the first blossoming, and that the real fruits are to come! But what really matters is not the stinginess, is not the meanness, but the tone of the whole thing. For that will be the tone after marriage, it’s a foretaste of it. And mother too, why should she be so lavish? What will she have by the time she gets to Petersburg? Three silver roubles or two ‘paper ones’ as she says…. that old woman … hm. What does she expect to live upon in Petersburg afterwards? She has her reasons already for guessing that she could not live with Dounia after the marriage, even for the first few months. The good man has no doubt let slip something on that subject also, though mother would deny it: ‘I shall refuse,’ says she. On whom is she reckoning then? Is she counting on what is left of her hundred and twenty roubles of pension when Afanasy Ivanovitch’s debt is paid? She knits woollen shawls and embroiders cuffs, ruining her old eyes. And all her shawls don’t add more than twenty roubles a year to her hundred and twenty, I know that. So she is building all her hopes all the time on Mr. Luzhin’s generosity; ‘he will offer it of himself, he will press it on me.’ You may 84 of 967

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wait a long time for that! That’s how it always is with these Schilleresque noble hearts; till the last moment every goose is a swan with them, till the last moment, they hope for the best and will see nothing wrong, and although they have an inkling of the other side of the picture, yet they won’t face the truth till they are forced to; the very thought of it makes them shiver; they thrust the truth away with both hands, until the man they deck out in false colours puts a fool’s cap on them with his own hands. I should like to know whether Mr. Luzhin has any orders of merit; I bet he has the Anna in his buttonhole and that he puts it on when he goes to dine with contractors or merchants. He will be sure to have it for his wedding, too!

Enough of him, confound him!

‘Well, … mother I don’t wonder at, it’s like her, God bless her, but how could Dounia? Dounia darling, as though I did not know you! You were nearly twenty when I saw you last: I understood you then. Mother writes that ‘Dounia can put up with a great deal.’ I know that very well. I knew that two years and a half ago, and for the last two and a half years I have been thinking about it, thinking of just that, that ‘Dounia can put up with a