The Double - Fyodor Dostoyevsky (ebook reader for comics txt) 📗
- Author: Fyodor Dostoyevsky
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“That’s no matter,” thought Mr. Golyadkin, “that can easily be set right,” and felt in his pocket at once, intending to make up for the cakes, apples, nuts and various trifles he had scattered with a rouble. Suddenly a new light dawned upon Mr. Golyadkin; in his pocket he felt the letter given him in the morning by the clerk. Remembering that there was a tavern he knew close by, he ran to it without a moment’s delay, settled himself at a little table lighted up by a tallow candle, and, taking no notice of anything, regardless of the waiter who came to ask for his orders, broke the seal and began reading the following letter, which completely astounded him -
Petrushka came in swaggering, with a strangely casual manner and an air of vulgar triumph on his face. It was evident that he had some idea in his head, that he felt thoroughly within his rights, and he looked like an unconcerned spectator - that is, as though he were anybody’s servant rather than Mr. Golyadkin’s.
“I say, you know, my good lad,” our hero began breathlessly, “what time is it?”
Without speaking, Petrushka went behind his partition, then returned, and in a rather independent tone announced that it was nearly half-past seven.
“Well, that’s all right, my lad, that’s all right. Come, you see, my boy… allow me to tell you, my good lad, that everything, I fancy, is at an end between us.”
Petrushka said nothing.
“Well, now as everything is over between us, tell me openly, as a friend, where you have been.”
“Where I’ve been? To see good people, sir.”
“I know, my good lad, I know. I have always been satisfied with you, and I give you a character… Well, what are you doing with them now?”
“Why, sir! You know yourself. We all know a decent man won’t teach you any harm.”
“I know, my dear fellow, I know. Nowadays good people are rare, my lad; prize them, my friend. Well, how are they?”
“To be sure, they… Only I can’t serve you any longer, sir; as your honour must know.”
“I know, my dear fellow, I know your zeal and devotion; I have seen it all, my lad, I’ve noticed it. I respect you, my friend. I respect a good and honest man, even though he’s a lackey.”
“Why, yes, to be sure! The like’s of us, of course, as you know yourself, are as good as anybody. That’s so. We all know, sir, that there’s no getting on without a good man.”
“Very well, very well, my boy, I feel it…. Come, here’s your money and here’s your character. Now we’ll kiss and say good-bye, brother…. Come, now, my lad, I’ll ask one service of you, one last service,” said Mr. Golyadkin, in a solemn voice. “You see, my dear boy, all sorts of things happen. Sorrow is concealed in gilded palaces, and there’s no escaping it. You know, my boy, I’ve always been kind to you, my boy.
Petrushka remained mute.
“I believe I’ve always been kind to you, my dear fellow … Come, how much linen have we now, my dear boy?”
“Well, it’s all there. Linen shirts six, three pairs of socks; four shirtfronts; flannel vests; of underlinen two sets. You know all that yourself. I’ve got nothing of yours, sir…. I look after my master’s belongings, sir. I am like that, sir … we all know… and I’ve… never been guilty of anything of the sort, sir, you know yourself, sir…”
“I trust you, my lad, I trust you. I didn’t mean that, my friend, I didn’t mean that, you know, my lad; I tell you what … “
“To be sure, sir, we know that already. Why, when I used to be in the service at general Stolnyakov’s… I lost the lace through the family’s going away to Saratov… they’ve an estate there…”
“No; I didn’t mean that, my lad, I didn’t mean that; don’t think anything of the sort, my dear fellow…”
“To be sure. It’s easy, as you know yourself, sir, to take away the character of folks like us. And I’ve always given satisfaction - ministers, generals, senators, counts - I’ve served them all. I’ve been at Prince Svintchatkin’s, at Colonel Pereborkin’s, at General Nedobarov’s - they’ve gone away too, they’ve gone to their property. As we all know …”
“Yes, my lad, very good, my lad, very good. And now I’m going away, my friend… A different path lies before each man, no one can tell what road he may have to take. Come, my lad, put out my clothes now, lay out my uniform too… and my other trousers, my sheets, quilts and pillows…”
“Am I to pack them all in the bag?”
“Yes, my lad, yes; the bag, please. Who knows what may happen to us. Come, my dear boy, you can go and find a carriage…”
“A carriage?… “
“Yes, my lad, a carriage; a roomy one, and take it by the hour. And don’t imagine anything…”
“Are you planning to go far away, sir?”
“I don’t know my lad, I don’t know that either. I think you had better pack my feather bed too. What do you think, my lad? I am relying on you, my dear fellow…”
“Is your honour setting off at once?”
“Yes, my friend, yes! Circumstances have turned out so … so it is, my dear fellow, so it is…”
“To be sure, sir; when we were in the regiment the same thing happened to the lieutenant; they eloped from a country gentleman’s…”
“Eloped?… How! My dear fellow!”
“Yes, sir, eloped, and they were married in another house. Everything was got ready beforehand. There was a hue and cry after them; the late prince took their part, and so it was all settled…”
“They were married, but… how is it, my dear fellow … How did you come to know, my boy?”
“Why, to be sure! The earth is full of rumours, sir. We know, sir, we’ve all… to be sure, there’s no one without sin. Only I’ll tell you now, sir, let me speak plainly and vulgarly, sir; since it has come to this, I must tell you, sir; you have an enemy - you’ve a rival, sir, a powerful rival, so there…”
“I know, my dear fellow, I know; you know yourself, my dear fellow…. So, you see, I’m relying upon you. What are we to do now, my friend! How do you advise me?”
“Well, sir, if you are in that way now, if you’ve come, so to say, to such a pass, sir, you’ll have to make some purchases, sir - say some sheets, pillows, another feather bed, a double one, a good quilt - here at the neighbours downstairs - she’s a shopkeeper, sir - she has a good fox-fur cloak, so you might look at it and buy it, you might have a look at it at once. You’ll need it now, sir; it’s a good cloak, sir, satin-lined with fox…”
“Very good, my lad, very good, I agree; I rely upon you, I rely upon you entirely; a cloak by all means, if necessary … Only make haste, make haste! For God’s sake make haste! I’ll buy the cloak - only please make haste! It will soon be eight o’clock. Make haste for God’s sake, my dear lad! Hurry up, my lad…”
Petrushka ran up to gather together a bundle of linen, pillows, quilt, sheets, and all sorts of odds and ends, tied them up and rushed headlong out of the room. Meanwhile, Mr. Golyadkin seized the letter once more, but he could not read it. Clutching his devoted head, he leaned against the wall in a state of stupefaction. He could not think of anything, he could do nothing either, and could not even tell what was happening to him. At last, seeing that time was passing and neither Petrushka nor the fur cloak had made their appearance, Mr. Golyadkin made up his mind to go himself. Opening the door into the entry, he heard below noise, talk, disputing and scuffling… Several of the women of the neighbouring flats were shouting, talking and protesting about something - Mr. Golyadkin knew what. Petrushka’s voice was heard: then there was a sound of footsteps.
“My goodness! They’ll bring all the world in here,” moaned Mr. Golyadkin, wringing his hands in despair and rushing back into his room. Running back into his room, he fell almost senseless on the sofa with his face in the pillow. After lying a minute in this way, he jumped up and, without waiting for Petrushka, he put on his goloshes, his hat and his greatcoat, snatched up his papers and ran headlong downstairs.
“Nothing is wanted, nothing, my dear fellow! I will manage myself - everything myself. I don’t need you for the time, and meantime, things may take a better turn, perhaps,” Mr. Golyadkin muttered to Petrushka, meeting him on the stair; then he ran out into the yard, away from the house. There was a faintness at his heart, he had not yet made up his mind what was his position, what he was to do, how he was to act in the present critical position.
“Yes, how am I to act? Lord, have mercy on me! And that all this should happen!” he cried out at last in despair, tottering along the street at random; “that all this must needs happen! Why, but for this, but for just this, everything would have been put right; at one stroke, at one skilful, vigorous, firm stroke it would have been set right. I would have my finger cut off to have set right! And I know, indeed, how it would have been settled. This is how it would have been managed: I’d have gone on the spot… said how it was… ‘with your permission, sir, I’m neither here nor there in it … things aren’t done like that,’ I would say, ‘my dear sir, things aren’t done like that, there’s no accepting an imposter in our office; an imposter… my dear sir, is a man… who is worthless and of no service to his country. Do you understand that? Do you understand that, my dear sir,’ I should say! That’s how it would be… But no… after all, things are not like that… not a bit like that… I am talking nonsense, like a fool! A suicidal fool! It’s not like that at all, you suicidal fool… This is how things are done, though, you profligate man!… Well, what am I to do with myself now? Well, what am I going to do with myself now. What am I fit for now? Come, what are you fit for now, for instance, you, Golyadkin,
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