'But this is terrible.'
'You see, one of two things confronted Maslova,' the justiciary said, evidently desiring to be as pleasant and polite with Nekhludoff as possible. Then, arranging his side-whiskers over his coat collar, and taking Nekhludoff's arm, he led him toward the door. 'You are also going?' he continued.
'Yes,' said Nekhludoff, hastily donning his overcoat and following him.
They came out into the bright, cheerful sunlight, where the rattling of wheels on the pavement made it necessary to raise their voices.
'The situation, you see, is a very curious one,' continued the justiciary. 'Maslova was confronted by one of two things: either a short term in jail, in which case her lengthy confinement would have been taken into consideration, or penal servitude; no other sentence was possible. Had you added the words, 'without intent to kill,' she would have been discharged.'
'It is unpardonable neglect on my part,' said Nekhludoff.
'That is the whole trouble,' the justiciary said, smiling and looking at his watch.
There was only three-quarters of an hour left to the latest hour fixed in Clara's appointment.
'You can apply to a lawyer, if you wish. It is necessary to find grounds for appeal. But that can always be found. To the Dvorianskaia,' he said to the cab-driver. 'Thirty kopecks—I never pay more.'
'All right, Your Excellency.'
'Good-day. If I can be of any service to you, please let me know. You will easily remember my address: Dvornikoff's house, on the Dvorinskaia.'
And, making a graceful bow, he rode off.
CHAPTER XXV.
The conversation with the justiciary and the pure air somewhat calmed Nekhludoff. The feeling he experienced he now ascribed to the fact that he had passed the day amid surroundings to which he was unaccustomed.
'It is certainly a remarkable coincidence! I must do what is necessary to alleviate her lot, and do it quickly. Yes, I must find out here where Fanarin or Mikishin lives.' Nekhludoff called to mind these two well-known lawyers.
Nekhludoff returned to the court-house, took off his overcoat and walked up the stairs. In the very first corridor he met Fanarin. He stopped him and told him that he had some business with him. Fanarin knew him by sight, and also his name. He told Nekhludoff that he would be glad to do anything to please him.
'I am rather tired, but, if it won't take long, I will listen to your case. Let us walk into that room.'
And Fanarin led Nekhludoff into a room, probably the cabinet of some judge. They seated themselves at a table.
'Well, state your case.'
'First of all, I will ask you,' said Nekhludoff, 'not to disclose that I am interesting myself in this case.'
'That is understood. Well?'
'I was on a jury to-day, and we sent an innocent woman to Siberia. It torments me.'
To his own surprise, Nekhludoff blushed and hesitated. Fanarin glanced at him, then lowered his eyes and listened.
'Well?'
'We condemned an innocent woman, and I would like to have the case appealed to a higher court.'
'To the Senate?' Fanarin corrected him.
'And I wish you to take the case.'
Nekhludoff wanted to get through the most difficult part, and therefore immediately added:
'I take all expenses on myself, whatever they may be,' he said, blushing.
'Well, we will arrange all that,' said the lawyer, condescendingly smiling at Nekhludoff's inexperience.
'What are the facts of the case?'
Nekhludoff related them.
'Very well; I will examine the record to-morrow. Call at my office the day after—no, better on Thursday, at six o'clock in the evening, and I will give you an answer. And now let us go; I must make some inquiries here.'
Nekhludoff bade him good-by, and departed.
His conversation with the lawyer, and the fact that he had already taken steps to defend Maslova, still more calmed his spirit. The weather was fine, and when Nekhludoff found himself on the street, he gladly inhaled the spring air. Cab drivers offered their services, but he preferred to walk, and a swarm of thoughts and recollections of Katiousha and his conduct toward her immediately filled his head. He became sad, and everything appeared to him gloomy. 'No, I will consider it later,' he said to himself, 'and now I must have some diversion from these painful impressions.'
The dinner at the Korchagin's came to his mind, and he looked at his watch. It was not too late to reach there for dinner. A tram-car passed by. He ran after it, and boarded it at a bound. On the square he jumped off, took one of the best cabs, and ten minutes later he alighted in front of Korchagin's large dwelling.
CHAPTER XXVI.
'Walk in, Your Excellency, you are expected,' said the fat porter, pushing open the swinging, oaken door of the entrance. 'They are dining, but I was told to admit you.'
The porter walked to the stairway and rang the bell.
'Are there any guests?' Nekhludoff asked, while taking off his coat.
'Mr. Kolosoff, also Michael Sergeievich, besides the family,' answered the porter.
A fine-looking lackey in dress coat and white gloves looked down from the top of the stairs.
'Please to walk in, Your Excellency,' he said.
Nekhludoff mounted the stairs, and through the spacious and magnificent parlor he entered the dining-room. Around the table were seated the entire family, except Princess Sophia Vasilievna, who never left her own apartments. At the head of the table sat old Korchagin, on his left the physician; on his right, a visitor, Ivan Ivanovich Kolosoff, an ex-district commander, and now a bank manager, who was a friend of the family, and of liberal tendencies; further to the left was Miss Rader, governess to Missy's four-year-old sister, with the little girl herself; then to the right, Missy's only brother, Peter, a high-school pupil, on account of whose forthcoming examinations the entire family remained in the city, and his tutor, also a student; then again to the left, Katherine Alexeievna, a forty-year-old girl Slavophile; opposite to her was Michael Sergeievich, or Misha Telegin, Missy's cousin, and at the foot of the table, Missy herself, and beside her, on the table, lay an extra cover.
'Ah, very glad you came! Take a seat! We are still at the fish,' chewing carefully with his false teeth old Korchagin said, lifting his bloodshot eyes on Nekhludoff. 'Stepan!' he turned with a full mouth to the fat, majestic servant, pointing with his eyes to Nekhludoff's plate. Although Nekhludoff had often dined with and knew Korchagin well, this evening his old face, his sensual, smacking lips, the napkin stuck under his vest, the fat neck, and especially the well-fed, military figure made an unpleasant impression on him.
'It is all ready, Your Excellency,' said Stepan, taking a soup ladle from the sideboard and nodding to the fine- looking servant with the side-whiskers, who immediately began to set the table beside Missy.
Nekhludoff went around the table shaking hands with every one. All, except Korchagin and the ladies, rose from their seats when he approached them. And this walking around the table and his handshaking, although most of the people were comparative strangers to him, this evening seemed to Nekhludoff particularly unpleasant and ridiculous. He excused himself for his late coming, and was about to seat himself at the end of the table between Missy and Katherine Alexeievna, when old Korchagin demanded that, since he would not take any brandy, he should first take a bite at the table, on which were lobster, caviare, cheese and herring. Nekhludoff did not know he was as hungry as he turned out to be, and when he tasted of some cheese and bread he could not stop eating, and ate ravenously.
'Well? Have you been undermining the bases of society?' asked Kolosoff, ironically, using an expression of a retrogressive newspaper, which was attacking the jury system. 'You have acquitted the guilty and condemned the innocent? Have you?'
'Undermining the bases—undermining the bases'—smilingly repeated the Prince, who had boundless confidence in the intelligence and honesty of his liberal comrade and friend.
