第179章

第179章raskolnikovwentupintothetavern.hefoundsvidrigailovinatinybackroom,adjoiningthesalooninwhichmerchants,clerksandnumbersofpeopleofallsortsweredrinkingteaattwentylittletablestothedesperatebawlingofachorusofsingers.theclickofbilliardballscouldbeheardinthedistance.onthetablebeforesvidrigailovstoodanopenbottleandaglasshalffullofchampagne.intheroomhefoundalsoaboywithalittlehandorgan,ahealthy-lookingred-cheekedgirlofeighteen,wearingatucked-upstripedskirt,andatyrolesehatwithribbons.inspiteofthechorusintheotherroom,shewassingingsomeservants’hallsonginaratherhuskycontralto,totheaccompanimentoftheorgan.

“come,that’senough,”svidrigailovstoppedheratraskolnikov’sentrance.thegirlatoncebrokeoffandstoodwaitingrespectfully.shehadsunghergutturalrhymes,too,withaseriousandrespectfulexpressioninherface.

“hey,philip,aglass!”shoutedsvidrigailov.

“iwon’tdrinkanything,”saidraskolnikov.

“asyoulike,ididn’tmeanitforyou.drink,katia!idon’twantanythingmoreto-day,youcango.”hepouredheroutafullglass,andlaiddownayellownote.

katiadrankoffherglassofwine,aswomendo,withoutputtingitdown,intwentygulps,tookthenoteandkissedsvidrigailov’shand,whichheallowedquiteseriously.shewentoutoftheroomandtheboytrailedafterherwiththeorgan.bothhadbeenbroughtinfromthestreet.svidrigailovhadnotbeenaweekinpetersburg,buteverythingabouthimwasalready,sotospeak,onapatriarchalfooting;thewaiter,philip,wasbynowanoldfriendandveryobsequious.

thedoorleadingtothesaloonhadalockonit.svidrigailovwasathomeinthisroomandperhapsspentwholedaysinit.thetavernwasdirtyandwretched,notevensecond-rate.

“iwasgoingtoseeyouandlookingforyou,”raskolnikovbegan,“butidon’tknowwhatmademeturnfromthehaymarketintothex.prospectjustnow.inevertakethisturning.iturntotherightfromthehaymarket.andthisisn’tthewaytoyou.isimplyturnedandhereyouare.itisstrange!”

“whydon’tyousayatonce‘it’samiracle’?”

“becauseitmaybeonlychance.”

“oh,that’sthewaywithallyoufolk,”laughedsvidrigailov.“youwon’tadmitit,evenifyoudoinwardlybelieveitamiracle!hereyousaythatitmaybeonlychance.andwhatcowardstheyallarehere,abouthavinganopinionoftheirown,youcan’tfancy,rodionromanovitch.idon’tmeanyou,youhaveanopinionofyourownandarenotafraidtohaveit.that’showitwasyouattractedmycuriosity.”

“nothingelse?”

“well,that’senough,youknow,”svidrigailovwasobviouslyexhilarated,butonlyslightlyso,hehadnothadmorethanhalfaglassofwine.

“ifancyyoucametoseemebeforeyouknewthatiwascapableofhavingwhatyoucallanopinionofmyown,”observedraskolnikov.

“oh,well,itwasadifferentmatter.everyonehashisownplans.andaproposofthemiracleletmetellyouthatithinkyouhavebeenasleepforthelasttwoorthreedays.itoldyouofthistavernmyself,thereisnomiracleinyourcomingstraighthere.iexplainedthewaymyself,toldyouwhereitwas,andthehoursyoucouldfindmehere.doyouremember?”

“idon’tremember,”answeredraskolnikovwithsurprise.

“ibelieveyou.itoldyoutwice.theaddresshasbeenstampedmechanicallyonyourmemory.youturnedthiswaymechanicallyandyetpreciselyaccordingtothedirection,thoughyouarenotawareofit.whenitoldyouthen,ihardlyhopedyouunderstoodme.yougiveyourselfawaytoomuch,rodionromanovitch.andanotherthing,i’mconvincedtherearelotsofpeopleinpetersburgwhotalktothemselvesastheywalk.thisisatownofcrazypeople.ifonlywehadscientificmen,doctors,lawyersandphilosophersmightmakemostvaluableinvestigationsinpetersburgeachinhisownline.therearefewplaceswheretherearesomanygloomy,strongandqueerinfluencesonthesoulofmanasinpetersburg.themereinfluencesofclimatemeansomuch.andit’stheadministrativecentreofallrussiaanditscharactermustbereflectedonthewholecountry.butthatisneitherherenortherenow.thepointisthatihaveseveraltimeswatchedyou.youwalkoutofyourhouse—holdingyourheadhigh—twentypacesfromhomeyouletitsink,andfoldyourhandsbehindyourback.youlookandevidentlyseenothingbeforenorbesideyou.atlastyoubeginmovingyourlipsandtalkingtoyourself,andsometimesyouwaveonehandanddeclaim,andatlaststandstillinthemiddleoftheroad.that’snotatallthething.someonemaybewatchingyoubesidesme,anditwon’tdoyouanygood.it’snothingreallytodowithmeandican’tcureyou,but,ofcourse,youunderstandme.”

“doyouknowthatiambeingfollowed?”askedraskolnikov,lookinginquisitivelyathim.

“no,iknownothingaboutit,”saidsvidrigailov,seemingsurprised.

“well,then,letusleavemealone,”raskolnikovmuttered,frowning.

“verygood,letusleaveyoualone.”

“youhadbettertellme,ifyoucomeheretodrink,anddirectedmetwicetocomeheretoyou,whydidyouhide,andtrytogetawayjustnowwhenilookedatthewindowfromthestreet?isawit.”

“he-he!andwhywasityoulayonyoursofawithclosedeyesandpretendedtobeasleep,thoughyouwerewideawakewhileistoodinyourdoorway?isawit.”

“imayhavehad…reasons.youknowthatyourself.”

“andimayhavehadmyreasons,thoughyoudon’tknowthem.”