The Complete Novels of Fyodor Dostoyevsky - Fyodor Dostoyevsky

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again and fixed his eyes upon Mr. Golyadkin. Our hero looked vaguely about him and noticed that every one, actually every one, was looking at him with a hostile and suspicious air. All at once a retired military man in a red collar asked loudly for the Police News. Mr. Golyadkin started and turned crimson: he happened to look down and saw that he was in such disorderly attire as he would not have worn even at home, much less in a public place. His boots, his trousers and the whole of his left side were covered with mud; the trouser-strap was torn off his right foot, and his coat was even torn in many places. In extreme misery our hero went up to the table at which he had read the letter, ad saw that the attendant was coming up to him with a strange and impudently peremptory expression of face. utterly disconcerted and crestfallen, our hero began to look about the table at which he was now standing. On the table stood a dirt plate, left there from somebody’s dinner, a soled table-napkin and a knife, fork and spoon that had just been used. “Who has been having dinner?” thought our hero. “Can it have been I? Anything is possible! I must have had dinner without noticing it; what am I to do?”

      Raising his eyes, Mr. Golyadkin again saw beside him the waiter who was about to address him.

      “How much is my bill, my lad?” our hero inquired, in a trembling voice.

      A loud laugh sounded round Mr. Golyadkin, the waiter himself grinned. Mr. Golyadkin realized that he had blundered again, and had done something dreadfully stupid. He was overcome by confusion, and to avoid standing there with nothing to do he put his hand in his pocket to get out his handkerchief; but to the indescribable amazement of himself and all surrounding him, he pulled out instead of his handkerchief the bottle of medicine which Krestyan Ivanovitch had prescribed for him four days earlier. “Get the medicine at the same chemist’s,” floated through Mr. Golyadkin’s brain… .

      Suddenly he started and almost cried out in horror. A new light dawned… . The dark reddish and repulsive liquid had a sinister gleam to Mr. Golyadkin’s eyes… . The bottle dropped from his hands and was instantly smashed. Our hero cried out and stepped back a pace to avoid the spilled medicine … he was trembling in every limb, and drops of sweat came out on to his brow and temples. “So my life is in danger!” Meantime there was a stir, a commotion in the room; every one surrounded Mr. Golyadkin, every one talked to Mr. Golyadkin, some even caught hold of Mr. Golyadkin. But our hero was dumb and motionless, seeing nothing, hearing nothing, feeling nothing… . At last, as though tearing himself from the place, he rushed out of the tavern, pushing away all and each who tried to detain him; almost unconscious, he got into the first cab that passed him and drove to his flat.

      In the entry of his flat he met Mihyeev, an attendant from the office, with an official envelope in his hand.

      “I know, my good man, I know all about it,” our exhausted hero answered, in a weak, miserable voice; “it’s official …”

      The envelope did, in fact, contain instructions to Mr. Golyadkin, signed by Andrey Filippovitch, to give up the business in his hands to Ivan Semyonovitch. Taking the envelope and giving ten kopecks to the man, Mr. Golyadkin went into his flat and saw that Petrushka was collecting all his odds and ends, all his things into a heap, evidently intending to abandon Mr. Golyadkin and move to the flat of Karolina Ivanovna, who had enticed him to take the place of Yevstafy.

      CHAPTER XII

       Table of Contents

       Petrushka came in swaggering, with a strangely casual manner and an air of vulgar triumph on his face. It was evident that he had some idea in his head, that he felt thoroughly within his rights, and he looked like an unconcerned spectator - that is, as though he were anybody’s servant rather than Mr. Golyadkin’s.

      “I say, you know, my good lad,” our hero began breathlessly, “what time is it?”

      Without speaking, Petrushka went behind his partition, then returned, and in a rather independent tone announced that it was nearly half-past seven.

      “Well, that’s all right, my lad, that’s all right. Come, you see, my boy … allow me to tell you, my good lad, that everything, I fancy, is at an end between us.”

      Petrushka said nothing.

      “Well, now as everything is over between us, tell me openly, as a friend, where you have been.”

      “Where I’ve been? To see good people, sir.”

      “I know, my good lad, I know. I have always been satisfied with you, and I give you a character … Well, what are you doing with them now?”

      “Why, sir! You know yourself. We all know a decent man won’t teach you any harm.”

      “I know, my dear fellow, I know. Nowadays good people are rare, my lad; prize them, my friend. Well, how are they?”

      “To be sure, they … Only I can’t serve you any longer, sir; as your honour must know.”

      “I know, my dear fellow, I know your zeal and devotion; I have seen it all, my lad, I’ve noticed it. I respect you, my friend. I respect a good and honest man, even though he’s a lackey.”

      “Why, yes, to be sure! The like’s of us, of course, as you know yourself, are as good as anybody. That’s so. We all know, sir, that there’s no getting on without a good man.”

      “Very well, very well, my boy, I feel it… . Come, here’s your money and here’s your character. Now we’ll kiss and say goodbye, brother… . Come, now, my lad, I’ll ask one service of you, one last service,” said Mr. Golyadkin, in a solemn voice. “You see, my dear boy, all sorts of things happen. Sorrow is concealed in gilded palaces, and there’s no escaping it. You know, my boy, I’ve always been kind to you, my boy.

      Petrushka remained mute.

      “I believe I’ve always been kind to you, my dear fellow .

      . . Come, how much linen have we now, my dear boy?”

      “Well, it’s all there. Linen shirts six, three pairs of socks; four shirtfronts; flannel vests; of underlinen two sets. You know all that yourself. I’ve got nothing of yours, sir… . I look after my master’s belongings, sir. I am like that, sir … we all know … and I’ve … never been guilty of anything of the sort, sir, you know yourself, sir …”

      “I trust you, my lad, I trust you. I didn’t mean that, my friend, I didn’t mean that, you know, my lad; I tell you what …”

      “To be sure, sir, we know that already. Why, when I used to be in the service at general Stolnyakov’s … I lost the lace through the family’s going away to Saratov … they’ve an estate there …”

      “No; I didn’t mean that, my lad, I didn’t mean that; don’t think anything of the sort, my dear fellow …”

      “To be sure. It’s easy, as you know yourself, sir, to take away the character of folks like us. And I’ve always given satisfaction - ministers, generals, senators, counts - I’ve served them all. I’ve been at Prince Svintchatkin’s, at Colonel Pereborkin’s, at General Nedobarov’s - they’ve gone away too, they’ve gone to their property. As we all know …”

      “Yes, my lad, very good, my lad, very good. And now I’m going away, my friend … A different path lies before each man, no one can tell what road he may have to take. Come, my lad, put out my clothes now, lay out my uniform too … and my other trousers, my sheets, quilts and pillows …”

      “Am I to pack them all in the bag?”

      “Yes, my lad, yes; the bag, please. Who knows what may happen to us. Come, my dear boy, you can go and find a carriage …”

      “A carriage?…”

      “Yes, my lad, a carriage; a roomy one, and take it by the hour. And don’t imagine anything …”

      “Are you planning to go far away, sir?”

      “I

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