WHEN the widow hurried away to Pavlofsk, she went straight to
Daria Alexeyevna's house, and telling all she knew, threw her
into a state of great alarm. Both ladies decided to communicate
at once with Lebedeff, who, as the friend and landlord of the
prince, was also much agitated. Vera Lebedeff told all she knew,
and by Lebedeff's advice it was decided that all three should go
to Petersburg as quickly as possible, in order to avert "what
might so easily happen."
This is how it came about that at eleven o'clock next morning
Rogojin's flat was opened by the police in the presence of
Lebedeff, the two ladies, and Rogojin's own brother, who lived in
the wing.
The evidence of the porter went further than anything else
towards the success of Lebedeff in gaining the assistance of the
police. He declared that he had seen Rogojin return to the house
last night, accompanied by a friend, and that both had gone
upstairs very secretly and cautiously. After this there was no
hesitation about breaking open the door, since it could not be
got open in any other way.
Rogojin suffered from brain fever for two months. When he
recovered from the attack he was at once brought up on trial for
murder.
He gave full, satisfactory, and direct evidence on every point;
and the prince's name was, thanks to this, not brought into the
proceedings. Rogojin was very quiet during the progress of the
trial. He did not contradict his clever and eloquent counsel, who
argued that the brain fever, or inflammation of the brain, was
the cause of the crime; clearly proving that this malady had
existed long before the murder was perpetrated, and had been
brought on by the sufferings of the accused.
But Rogojin added no words of his own in confirmation of this
view, and as before, he recounted with marvellous exactness the
details of his crime. He was convicted, but with extenuating
circumstances, and condemned to hard labour in Siberia for
fifteen years. He heard his sentence grimly, silently, and
thoughtfully. His colossal fortune, with the exception of the
comparatively small portion wasted in the first wanton period of
his inheritance, went to his brother, to the great satisfaction
of the latter.
The old lady, Rogojin's mother, is still alive, and remembers her
favourite son Parfen sometimes, but not clearly. God spared her
the knowledge of this dreadful calamity which had overtaken her
house.
Lebedeff, Keller, Gania, Ptitsin, and many other friends of ours
continue to live as before. There is scarcely any change in them,
so that there is no need to tell of their subsequent doings.
Hippolyte died in great agitation, and rather sooner than he
expected, about a fortnight after Nastasia Phiipovna's death.
Colia was much affected by these events, and drew nearer to his
mother in heart and sympathy. Nina Alexandrovna is anxious,
because he is "thoughtful beyond his years," but he will, we
think, make a useful and active man.
The prince's further fate was more or less decided by Colia, who
selected, out of all the persons he had met during the last six
or seven months, Evgenie Pavlovitch, as friend and confidant. To
him he made over all that he knew as to the events above
recorded, and as to the present condition of the prince. He was
not far wrong in his choice. Evgenie Pavlovitch took the deepest
interest in the fate of the unfortunate "idiot," and, thanks to
his influence, the prince found himself once more with Dr.
Schneider, in Switzerland.
Evgenie Pavlovitch, who went abroad at this time, intending to
live a long while on the continent, being, as he often said,
quite superfluous in Russia, visits his sick friend at
Schneider's every few months.
But Dr. Schneider frowns ever more and more and shakes his head;
he hints that the brain is fatally injured; he does not as yet
declare that his patient is incurable, but he allows himself to
express the gravest fears.
Evgenie takes this much to heart, and he has a heart, as is
proved by the fact that he receives and even answers letters from
Colia. But besides this, another trait in his character has
become apparent, and as it is a good trait we will make haste to
reveal it. After each visit to Schneider's establishment, Evgenie
Pavlovitch writes another letter, besides that to Colia, giving
the most minute particulars concerning the invalid's condition.
In these letters is to be detected, and in each one more than the
last, a growing feeling of friendship and sympathy.
The individual who corresponds thus with Evgenie Pavlovitch, and
who engages so much of his attention and respect, is Vera
Lebedeff. We have never been able to discover clearly how such
relations sprang up. Of course the root of them was in the events
which we have already recorded, and which so filled Vera with
grief on the prince's account that she fell seriously ill. But
exactly how the acquaintance and friendship came about, we cannot
say.
We have spoken of these letters chiefly because in them is often
to be found some news of the Epanchin family, and of Aglaya in
particular. Evgenie Pavlovitch wrote of her from Paris, that
after a short and sudden attachment to a certain Polish count, an
exile, she had suddenly married him, quite against the wishes of
her parents, though they had eventually given their consent
through fear of a terrible scandal. Then, after a six months'
silence, Evgenie Pavlovitch informed his correspondent, in a long
letter, full of detail, that while paying his last visit to Dr.
Schneider's establishment, he had there come across the whole
Epanchin family (excepting the general, who had remained in St.
Petersburg) and Prince S. The meeting was a strange one. They all
received Evgenie Pavlovitch with effusive delight; Adelaida and
Alexandra were deeply grateful to him for his "angelic kindness
to the unhappy prince."
Lizabetha Prokofievna, when she saw poor Muishkin, in his
enfeebled and humiliated condition, had wept bitterly. Apparently
all was forgiven him.
Prince S. had made a few just and sensible remarks. It seemed to
Evgenie Pavlovitch that there was not yet perfect harmony between
Adelaida and her fiance, but he thought that in time the
impulsive young girl would let herself be guided by his reason
and experience. Besides, the recent events that had befallen her
family had given Adelaida much to think about, especially the sad
experiences of her younger sister. Within six months, everything
that the family had dreaded from the marriage with the Polish
count had come to pass. He turned out to be neither count nor
exile--at least, in the political sense of the word--but had had
to leave his native land owing to some rather dubious affair of
the past. It was his noble patriotism, of which he made a great
display, that had rendered him so interesting in Aglaya's eyes.
She was so fascinated that, even before marrying him, she joined
a committee that had been organized abroad to work for the
restoration of Poland; and further, she visited the confessional
of a celebrated Jesuit priest, who made an absolute fanatic of
her. The supposed fortune of the count had dwindled to a mere
nothing, although he had given almost irrefutable evidence of its
existence to Lizabetha Prokofievna and Prince S.
Besides this, before they had been married half a year, the count
and his friend the priest managed to bring about a quarrel
between Aglaya and her family, so that it was now several months
since they had seen her. In a word, there was a great deal to
say; but Mrs. Epanchin, and her daughters, and even Prince S.,
were still so much distressed by Aglaya's latest infatuations and
adventures, that they did hot care to talk of them, though they
must have known that Evgenie knew much of the story already.
Poor Lizabetha Prokofievna was most anxious to get home, and,
according to Evgenie's account, she criticized everything foreign
with much hostility.
"They can't bake bread anywhere, decently; and they all freeze in
their houses, during winter, like a lot of mice in a cellar. At
all events, I've had a good Russian cry over this poor fellow,"
she added, pointing to the prince, who had not recognized her in
the slightest degree. "So enough of this nonsense; it's time we
faced the truth. All this continental life, all this Europe of
yours, and all the trash about 'going abroad' is simply foolery,
and it is mere foolery on our part to come. Remember what I say,
my friend; you'll live to agree with me yourself."
So spoke the good lady, almost angrily, as she took leave of
Evgenie Pavlovitch.
End