THE COMPLETE NOVELS OF DOSTOYEVSKY - Fyodor Dostoyevsky

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beside myself with delight. Foma Fomitch sat pale with rage in the midst of the general discomfiture and seemed unable to recover from Gavrila’s sudden attack upon him; he seemed at that moment to be deliberating how far his wrath should carry him. At last the outburst followed.

      “What, he dares to be rude to me — me! but this is mutiny!” shrieked Foma, and he leapt up from his chair.

      Madame la Générale followed his example, clasping her hands. There was a general commotion, my uncle rushed to turn the culprit out, “Put him in fetters, put him in fetters!” cried Madame la G£nerale. “Take him to the town at once and send him for a soldier, Yegorushka, or you shall not have my blessing. Fix the fetters on him at once, and send him for a soldier.”

      “What!” cried Foma. “Slave! Lout! Hamlet! He dares to be rude to me! He, he, a rag to wipe my boots! He dares to call me a fury!”

      I slipped forward with unusual determination.

      “I must confess that in this affair I am completely of Gavrila’s opinion,” I said, looking Foma Fomitch straight in the face and trembling with excitement.

      He was so taken aback by this onslaught that for the first minute he seemed unable to believe his ears.

      “What’s this now?” he cried out at last, pouncing upon me in a frenzy, and fixing his little bloodshot eyes upon me. “Why, who are you?”

      “Foma Fomitch ..,” my uncle, utterly distracted, began, “this is Seryozha, my nephew… .”

      “The learned gentleman!” yelled Foma. “So he’s the learned gentleman! Liberie — egahte — fratermte. Journal des Debuts! No, my friend, you won’t take me in! I am not such a fool. This isn’t Petersburg, you won’t impose upon us. And I spit on your des Debats. You have your des Debats, but to us that’s all fiddlesticks, young man! Learned! You know as much as I have forgotten seven times over. So much for your learning!”

      If they had not held him back I believe he would have fallen upon me with his fists.

      “Why, he is drunk,” I said, looking about me in bewilderment.

      “Who, I?” cried Foma, in a voice unlike his own.

      “Yes, you!”

      “Drunk?”

      “Yes, drunk.”

      This was more than Foma could endure. He uttered a screech as though he were being murdered and rushed out of the room. Madame la Générale seemed desirous of falling into a swoon, but reflected that it would be better to run after Foma Fomitch. She was followed by all the others, and last of all by my uncle. When I recovered myself and looked round I saw in the room no one but Yezhevikin. He was smiling and rubbing his hands.

      “You promised just now to tell me about the Jesuits,” he said in an insinuating voice.

      “What?” I asked, not understanding what he was talking about.

      “About the Jesuits, you promised just now to tell me … some little anecdote. …”

      I ran out into the veranda and from there into the garden. My head was going round… .

      CHAPTER VIII

      A DECLARATION OF LOVE

       Table of Contents

       I WANDERED about the garden for about a quarter of an hour, feeling irritated and extremely dissatisfied with myself, and deliberating what I should do now. The sun was setting. Suddenly at a tuining into a dark avenue I met Nastenka face to face. She had tears in her eyes, in her hand a handkerchief with which she was wiping them.

      “I was looking for you,” she said.

      “And I for you,” I answered. “Tell me, am I in a madhouse?”

      “Certainly not in a madhouse,” she answered resentfully, with an intent glance at me.

      “Well, if that’s so, what’s the meaning of it all? For Christ’s sake give me some advice. Where has my uncle gone now? Can I go to him? I am very glad that I have met you; perhaps you will be able to suggest what I ought to do.”

      “No, better not go to him. I have just come away from them.”

      “Why, where are they?”

      “Who knows? Perhaps by now they have run into the kitchen garden again,” she said irritably.

      “Into the kitchen garden!”

      “Why, last week, Foma Fomitch began shouting that he wouldn’t stay in the house, and all at once he ran into tho kitchen garden, found a spade in the shed and began digging the beds. We were all amazed, and wondered whether he hadn’t gone out of his mind. That I may not be reproached for doing nothing for my keep,’ said he, ‘here I will dig and pay for the bread I have eaten, and then I will go away. That’s what you have driven me to.’ And then they all began crying and almost falling on their knees before him; they took the spade away from him; but he would go on digging; he dug up all the turnips, that was all he did. They humoured him once, he may do it again. That would be just like him.”

      “And you … you tell that with such coolness!” I cried out, with intense indignation.

      She looked at me with flashing eyes.

      “Forgive me, I really don’t know what I am saying! Listen! do you know what I’ve come here for?”

      “N-no,” she answered, flushing crimson, and some painful feeling was reflected in her charming face.

      “You must excuse me,” I went on. “I am upset, I feel that this is not how I ought to have begun speaking of this … especially with you… . But never mind! To my thinking, openness in such matters is best. I confess … that is, I meant to say … you know my uncle’s design? He has told me to ask for your hand. …”

      “Oh, what nonsense! don’t speak of it, please,” she said, hurriedly interrupting me and flushing crimson.

      I was disconcerted.

      “How nonsense? But he wrote to me, you see.”

      “So he wrote to you?” she asked eagerly. “Oh, what a man! How he promised that he would not write! What nonsense! Good heavens, what nonsense!”

      “Forgive me,” I muttered, not knowing what to say. “Perhaps I have acted incautiously, crudely … but, you see, it’s such a moment! Only think, goodness knows what’s going on around us… .”

      “Oh, for God’s sake don’t apologise! Believe me that it is painful for me to hear this apart from that, and yet, do you know, I wanted to speak to you myself, to find out something… . Oh, how vexatious! So he really wrote to you? That’s what I was most afraid of! My God, what a man he is! And you believed him and galloped here full speed? Well, that’s the last straw!”

      She did not conceal her annoyance. My position was not an attractive one.

      “I must confess I did not expect …” I blurted out in the utmost confusion, “such a turn … I expected, on the contrary …”

      “Ah, so that’s what you expected? ..,” she brought out with light irony, biting her lip. “And do you know, you must show me the letter he wrote.”

      “Very good.”

      “And please don’t be angry with me, don’t be offended; I have trouble enough without that!” she said in an imploring voice, though a mocking smile faintly gleamed on her pretty hps.

      “Oh, please don’t take me for a fool,” I cried hotly. “But perhaps you are prejudiced against me, perhaps someone has spoken against me? Perhaps you say this because I put my foot in it just now? But that is nothing, I assure you. I know what a fool I must look to you now.

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