Demons

'But just get Shatov's handwriting and check. Some signature of his is bound to turn up in your chancery. And as for its being to Kirillov, it was Kirillov himself who showed it to me right then.'

'So you yourself...'

'Well, yes, of course, so I myself. They showed me all kinds of things there. And about these verses, it was supposedly the late Herzen who wrote them for Shatov while he was still wandering abroad, supposedly in memory of their meeting, as praise, as a recommendation—ah, well, the devil... so Shatov is spreading it among the young people. Herzen's own opinion of me, he says.'

'Tsk, tsk, tsk,' Lembke finally figured it all out, 'and here I was thinking: the tracts I understand, but why the verses?'

'But how could you not understand? And devil knows why I'm spilling it all out to you! Listen, you give me Shatov, and the devil take all the rest, even with Kirillov, who has now locked himself up in Filippov's house, where Shatov also lives, and is lying low. They don't like me, because I've gone back... but promise me Shatov and I'll bring you all the rest of them on a platter. I'll prove useful, Andrei Antonovich! I reckon the whole pitiful crew numbers nine—maybe ten—people. I'm keeping an eye on them myself, for my own part, sir. Three are already known to us: Shatov, Kirillov, and that sublieutenant. The rest I'm still making out... not that I'm all that nearsighted. It's like it was in Kh—— province; two students, one high-school boy, two twenty- year-old noblemen, one teacher, and one retired major of about sixty, stupefied with drink, were seized there with tracts—that's all, and believe me, that was all; they were even surprised that that was all. But I'll need six days. I've already worked it out on the abacus; six days, and not before. If you want to get any results, don't stir them up for another six days, and I'll tie them all into a single knot for you; stir them up before then, and the nest will scatter. But give me Shatov. I'm for Shatov... And best of all would be to summon him secretly and amiably, why not here to this study, and examine him, after lifting the veil for him ... And he'll probably throw himself at your feet and weep! He's a nervous man, an unhappy man; his wife goes about with Stavrogin. Coddle him a bit and he'll reveal everything himself, but I need six days... And the main thing, the main thing—not even half a word to Yulia Mikhailovna. A secret. Can we keep it a secret?'

'What?' Lembke goggled his eyes. 'You actually haven't ... revealed anything to Yulia Mikhailovna?'

'To her? Save me and have mercy on me! Ehh, Andrei Antonovich! You see, sir: I greatly value her friendship and highly respect. . . well, and all that... but I wouldn't make such a blunder. I don't contradict her, because to contradict her, you know yourself, is dangerous. It's possible I did drop a hint or two, because she likes that, but to give away names or anything to her, as I just did to you—ehh, my dear! And why am I turning to you now? Because you are, after all, a man, a serious person, with solid, old-style experience in the service. You've seen it all. I suppose you already know every step in such matters by heart from Petersburg cases. And if I were to tell her these two names, for example, she'd just start banging the drums ... Because she'd really love to astonish Petersburg from here. No, she's too hot-headed, that's the thing, sir.'

'Yes, she does have something of that fougue,' Andrei Antonovich muttered, not without pleasure, at the same time regretting terribly that this ignoramus should dare to express himself quite so freely about Yulia Mikhailovna. But Pyotr Stepanovich probably thought it was still too little, and that he must put on more steam so as to flatter and completely subdue 'Lembka.'

'Fougue, precisely,' he agreed. 'Granted she may be a genius, a literary woman, but—she'll scare the sparrows away. She couldn't hold out for six hours, much less six days. Ehh, Andrei Antonovich, don't ever lay a six-day term on a woman! You will acknowledge that I do have some experience, in these matters, I mean; I do know a thing or two, and you yourself know that I'm capable of knowing a thing or two. I'm asking you for six days not to play around, but for serious business.'

'I've heard...' Lembke hesitated to voice his thought, 'I've heard that on your return from abroad you expressed something like repentance ... in the proper quarters?'

'Well, or whatever it was.'

'And I, naturally, have no wish to go into... but I kept thinking that up to now you've talked in quite a different style here, about the Christian faith, for example, about social structures, and, finally, about the government...'

'I've said all kinds of things. I say the same things now, too, only these ideas shouldn't be pursued the way those fools do it, that's the point. What's this biting the shoulder? You agreed with me yourself, only you were saying it was too early.'

'I was not, in fact, speaking about that when I agreed but said it was too early.'

'You just hang every word on a hook, though—heh, heh!—you cautious man!' Pyotr Stepanovich suddenly remarked gaily. 'Listen, dear heart, I did have to get acquainted with you, after all, that's why I've been speaking to you in this style of mine. It's not only you, I make many acquaintances this way. Maybe I had to figure out your character.'

'And what would you need my character for?'

'Well, how should I know what for?' (he laughed again). 'You see, my dear and much respected Andrei Antonovich, you are cunning, but it hasn't come to that yet, and most likely it won't, understand? You understand, perhaps? Though I did give explanations in the proper quarters on my return from abroad, and I really don't see why a person of certain convictions shouldn't act for the benefit of his genuine convictions... but no one there has ordered your character yet, and I have not yet taken upon myself any such orders from there. Try to realize: it was quite possible for me not to disclose these two names to you first, but to shoot straight over there—I mean, where I gave my original explanations; and if I were exerting myself on account of finances, or for some profit, then, of course, it would be a miscalculation on my part, because now they'll be grateful to you and not to me.

It's solely for the sake of Shatov,' Pyotr Stepanovich added, with a noble air, 'for Shatov alone, out of past friendship ... well, and maybe when you take up your pen to write there, well, you can praise me, if you wish ... I won't object, heh, heh! Adieu, however, I've stayed too long and babbled more than I should have!' he added, not without affability, and got up from the sofa.

'On the contrary, I'm very glad things are beginning to take shape, so to speak,' von Lembke got up, too, also with an affable air, apparently influenced by the last words. 'I accept your services with gratitude, and, rest assured, everything, for my part, concerning references to your zeal ...'

'Six days, that's the main thing, give me six days, and make no move for those six days, that's what I need!'

'Very well.'

'Naturally, I'm not tying your hands, and wouldn't dare to. You can't really not keep an eye out; only don't frighten the nest ahead of time, this is where I'm counting on your intelligence and experience. And I bet you must