brilliant qualities of heart and mind—all that, perhaps, is there in her, but along with such caprices and mockeries—in short, a demoniacal character, and with fantasies on top of it. She just laughed in her mother's face, at her sisters, at Prince Shch.; to say nothing of me, it's rare that she doesn't laugh at me, but what am I, you know, I love her, love it even that she laughs at me—and the little demon seems to love me especially for that, that is, more than the others, it seems. I'll bet she's already laughed at you for something. I just found the two of you talking, after the storm upstairs; she was sitting with you as if nothing had happened."
The prince turned terribly red and clenched his right hand, but said nothing.
"My dear, kind Lev Nikolaich!" the general suddenly said with feeling and warmth, "I . . . and even Lizaveta Prokofyevna herself (who, incidentally, began railing at you again, and at me along with you and on account of you, only I don't understand what for), we love you all the same, sincerely love you and respect you, even in spite of everything, that is, all appearances. But you must agree, dear friend, you yourself must agree, what a riddle it is suddenly, and how vexing to hear, when suddenly this cold-blooded little demon (because she stood before her mother with an air of the profoundest contempt for all our questions, and mostly for mine, because, devil take me, I got foolish, I decided to show my severity, since I'm the head of the family—well, and got foolish), this coldblooded little demon suddenly up and announced with a grin that this 'madwoman' (that was how she put it, and I find it strange that she used the same word as you: 'Couldn't you have figured it out by now?' she says), that this madwoman 'has taken it into her head to marry me off at all costs to Prince Lev Nikolaich, and that's why she's trying to drive Evgeny Pavlych out of our house . . .' That's all she said; she gave no further explanation, just laughed loudly, while we stood there gaping, slammed the door, and was gone. Then they told me about the incident today between her and you . . . and . . . and . . . listen, my dear Prince, you're a very reasonable man, not about to take offense, I've noticed that in you, but . . . don't be angry: by God, she's making fun of you. She does it like a child, so don't be angry with her, but it's decidedly so. Don't think anything—she simply makes fools of you and us, out of idleness. Well, good-bye! You do know our feelings? Our sincere feelings for you? They haven't changed, never, not in anything . . . but ... I go that way now, good-bye! I've rarely sat so
poorly in my plate (or how does it go?) than I'm sitting now 6. . . Dacha life!"
Left alone at the intersection, the prince looked around, quickly crossed the road, went up to the lighted window of a dacha, unfolded a small piece of paper he had been clenching tightly in his right hand during the whole conversation with Ivan Fyodorovich, and read, catching a faint beam of light:
Tomorrow at seven o'clock in the morning I will be on the green bench in the park, waiting for you. I have decided to talk with you about an extremely important matter that concerns you directly.
P.S. I hope you won't show this note to anyone. Though I'm ashamed to write such instructions to you, I consider that you deserve it, and so I've written it—blushing with shame at your ridiculous character.
P.P.S. It is that same green bench I showed you today. Shame on you! I was forced to add that as well.
The note had been written hastily and folded anyhow, most likely just before Aglaya came out to the terrace. In inexpressible agitation, resembling fear, the prince again clenched the paper tightly in his hand and quickly jumped away from the window, from the light, like a frightened thief; but in making this movement he suddenly ran smack into a gentleman who turned up right at his shoulder.
"I've been watching you, Prince," said the gentleman.
"Is that you, Keller?" the prince cried in surprise.
"I've been looking for you, Prince. I waited by the Epanchins' dacha—naturally, I couldn't go in. I followed you as you walked with the general. I'm at your service, Prince, you may dispose of Keller. Ready to sacrifice myself and even to die, if necessary."
"But . . . what for?"
"Well, there's sure to be a challenge. This Lieutenant Molovtsov, I know him, that is, not personally ... he won't suffer an insult. Our sort, that is, me and Rogozhin, he's naturally inclined to consider riffraff, and maybe deservedly—so you turn out to be the only one answerable. You'll have to pay the piper, Prince. He's made inquiries about you, I've heard, and a friend of his is sure to call on you tomorrow, or maybe he's waiting for you now. If you grant me the honor of choosing me as a second, I'm ready to accept the red cap for you;' that's why I was waiting for you, Prince."
"So you're also talking about a duel!" the prince suddenly burst out laughing, to the great astonishment of Keller. He laughed his head off. Keller, who had indeed been on pins and needles, waiting until he had the satisfaction of offering himself as a second, was almost offended, seeing how merrily the prince laughed.
"Nevertheless, Prince, you seized him by the arms. For a noble person, it's hard to suffer that in public."
"And he shoved me in the chest!" the prince exclaimed, laughing. "We have nothing to fight about! I'll apologize to him and that's that. But if it's a fight, it's a fight. Let him shoot; I even want it. Ha, ha! I know how to load a pistol now! Do you know how to load a pistol, Keller? First you have to buy powder, gunpowder, not damp and not the coarse kind used for cannons; and then you start by putting in some powder, you get felt from a door somewhere, and only then drop in the bullet, not the bullet before the powder, because it won't fire. Do you hear, Keller: because it won't fire. Ha, ha! Isn't that a splendid reason, friend Keller? Ah, Keller, you know, I'm going to embrace you and kiss you now. Ha, ha, ha! How was it that you so suddenly turned up in front of him today? Call on me sometime soon and we'll have champagne. We'll all get drunk! Do you know that I have twelve bottles of champagne in Lebedev's cellar? Lebedev offered it to me as a 'bargain' two days ago, the day after I moved to his place, so I bought it all! I'll get the whole company together! And you, are you going to sleep this night?"
"Like every other, Prince."
"Well, sweet dreams then! Ha, ha!"
The prince crossed the road and disappeared into the park, leaving the somewhat puzzled Keller pondering. He had never seen the prince in such a strange mood, and could not have imagined it till then.
"A fever, maybe, because he's a nervous man, and all this has affected him, but he certainly won't turn coward. His kind doesn't turn coward, by God!" Keller thought to himself. "Hm, champagne! Interesting news, by the way. Twelve bottles, sir, a tidy dozen; that's a decent stock. I'll bet Lebedev took it in pledge from somebody. Hm . . . he's a sweet enough fellow, though, this prince; I really like that sort; there's no time to waste, though, and ... if there's champagne, then this is the moment . . ."
That the prince was as if in a fever was certainly correct.
For a long time he wandered through the dark park and finally
"found himself" pacing along a certain alley. His consciousness retained the memory that he had already walked along that alley, from the bench to a certain old tree, tall and conspicuous, about a hundred steps, some thirty or forty times up and down. He would have been quite unable to remember what he had thought about during that whole hour, at least, in the park, even if he had wanted to. He caught himself, however, in a certain thought, which made him suddenly rock with laughter; though there was nothing to laugh at, he still wanted to laugh. He imagined that the supposition of a duel might not have been born in Keller's head alone, and that, therefore, the story about loading a pistol might not have been accidental . . . "Hah!" he stopped suddenly, as another idea dawned on him, "she came down to the terrace tonight when I was sitting in the corner, and was terribly surprised to find me there, and—laughed so . . . talked about tea; but at that time she already had this note in her hand, which means she must have known I was sitting on the terrace, so why was she surprised? Ha, ha, ha!"