第198章

第198章thesameday,aboutseveno’clockintheevening,raskolnikovwasonhiswaytohismother’sandsister’slodging—thelodginginbakaleyev’shousewhichrazumihinhadfoundforthem.thestairswentupfromthestreet.raskolnikovwalkedwithingsteps,asthoughstillhesitatingwhethertogoornot.butnothingwouldhaveturnedhimback:hisdecisionwastaken.

“besides,itdoesn’tmatter,theystillknownothing,”hethought,“andtheyareusedtothinkingofmeaseccentric.”

hewasappallinglydressed:hisclothestornanddirty,soakedwithanight’srain.hisfacewasalmostdistortedfromfatigue,exposure,theinwardconflictthathadlastedfortwenty-fourhours.hehadspentallthepreviousnightalone,godknowswhere.butanywayhehadreachedadecision.

heknockedatthedoorwhichwasopenedbyhismother.douniawasnotathome.eventheservanthappenedtobeout.atfirstpulcheriaalexandrovnawasspeechlesswithjoyandsurprise;thenshetookhimbythehandanddrewhimintotheroom.

“hereyouare!”shebegan,falteringwithjoy.“don’tbeangrywithme,rodya,forwelcomingyousofoolishlywithtears:iamlaughingnotcrying.didyouthinkiwascrying?no,iamdelighted,buti’vegotintosuchastupidhabitofsheddingtears.i’vebeenlikethateversinceyourfather’sdeath.icryforanything.sitdown,dearboy,youmustbetired;iseeyouare.ah,howmuddyyouare.”

“iwasintherainyesterday,mother.…”raskolnikovbegan.

“no,no,”pulcheriaalexandrovnahurriedlyinterrupted,“youthoughtiwasgoingtocross-questionyouinthewomanishwayiusedto;don’tbeanxious,iunderstand,iunderstanditall:nowi’velearnedthewayshereandtrulyiseeformyselfthattheyarebetter.i’vemadeupmymindonceforall:howcouldiunderstandyourplansandexpectyoutogiveanaccountofthem?godknowswhatconcernsandplansyoumayhave,orwhatideasyouarehatching;soit’snotformetokeepnudgingyourelbow,askingyouwhatyouarethinkingabout?but,mygoodness!whyamirunningtoandfroasthoughiwerecrazy…?iamreadingyourarticleinthemagazineforthethirdtime,rodya.dmitriprokofitchbroughtittome.directlyisawiticriedouttomyself:‘there,foolishone,’ithought,‘that’swhatheisbusyabout;that’sthesolutionofthemystery!learnedpeoplearealwayslikethat.hemayhavesomenewideasinhisheadjustnow;heisthinkingthemoverandiworryhimandupsethim.’ireadit,mydear,andofcoursetherewasagreatdealididnotunderstand;butthat’sonlynatural—howshouldi?”

“showme,mother.”

raskolnikovtookthemagazineandglancedathisarticle.incongruousasitwaswithhismoodandhiscircumstances,hefeltthatstrangeandbittersweetsensationthateveryauthorexperiencesthefirsttimeheseeshimselfinprint;besides,hewasonlytwenty-three.itlastedonlyamoment.afterreadingafewlineshefrownedandhisheartthrobbedwithanguish.herecalledalltheinwardconflictoftheprecedingmonths.heflungthearticleonthetablewithdisgustandanger.

“but,howeverfoolishimaybe,rodya,icanseeformyselfthatyouwillverysoonbeoneoftheleading—ifnottheleadingman—intheworldofrussianthought.andtheydaredtothinkyouweremad!youdon’tknow,buttheyreallythoughtthat.ah,thedespicablecreatures,howcouldtheyunderstandgenius!anddounia,douniawasallbutbelievingit—whatdoyousaytothat?yourfathersenttwicetomagazines—thefirsttimepoems(i’vegotthemanuscriptandwillshowyou)andthesecondtimeawholenovel(iedhimtoletmecopyitout)andhowweprayedthattheyshouldbetaken—theyweren’t!iwasbreakingmyheart,rodya,sixorsevendaysagooveryourfoodandyourclothesandthewayyouareliving.butnowiseeagainhowfoolishiwas,foryoucanattainanypositionyoulikebyyourintellectandtalent.nodoubtyoudon’tcareaboutthatforthepresentandyouareoccupiedwithmuchmoreimportantmatters.…”

“dounia’snotathome,mother?”

“no,rodya.ioftendon’tseeher;sheleavesmealone.dmitriprokofitchcomestoseeme,it’ssogoodofhim,andhealwaystalksaboutyou.helovesyouandrespectsyou,mydear.idon’tsaythatdouniaisverywantinginconsideration.iamnotcomplaining.shehasherwaysandihavemine;sheseemstohavegotsomesecretsoflateandineverhaveanysecretsfromyoutwo.ofcourse,iamsurethatdouniahasfartoomuchsense,andbesidesshelovesyouandme…butidon’tknowwhatitwillallleadto.you’vemademesohappybycomingnow,rodya,butshehasmissedyoubygoingout;whenshecomesini’lltellher:‘yourbrothercameinwhileyouwereout.wherehaveyoubeenallthistime?’youmustn’tspoilme,rodya,youknow;comewhenyoucan,butifyoucan’t,itdoesn’tmatter,icanwait.ishallknow,anyway,thatyouarefondofme,thatwillbeenoughforme.ishallreadwhatyouwrite,ishallhearaboutyoufromeveryone,andsometimesyou’llcomeyourselftoseeme.whatcouldbebetter?hereyou’vecomenowtocomfortyourmother,iseethat.”

herepulcheriaalexandrovnabegantocry.

“hereiamagain!don’tmindmyfoolishness.mygoodness,whyamisittinghere?”shecried,jumpingup.“thereiscoffeeandidon’tofferyouany.ah,that’stheselfishnessofoldage.i’llgetitatonce!”

“mother,don’ttrouble,iamgoingatonce.ihaven’tcomeforthat.pleaselistentome.”

pulcheriaalexandrovnawentuptohimtimidly.

“mother,whateverhappens,whateveryouhearaboutme,whateveryouaretoldaboutme,willyoualwayslovemeasyoudonow?”heaskedsuddenlyfromthefullnessofhisheart,asthoughnotthinkingofhiswordsandnotweighingthem.

“rodya,rodya,whatisthematter?howcanyouaskmesuchaquestion?why,whowilltellmeanythingaboutyou?besides,ishouldn’tbelieveanyone,ishouldrefusetolisten.”