'So you brought her here only for my amusement?'
'What else?' 'And not to make me kill my wife?'
'Ah-ha, but did you kill her, really? What a tragic man!'
'It makes no difference. You killed her.'
'Did I, really? I'm telling you, I didn't have a drop to do with it. However, you're beginning to worry me...'
'Go on. You said: 'If you don't need her now, then...’”
'Permit me, of course! I'll get her excellently married to Mavriky Nikolaevich, whom, incidentally, I did not plant there in your garden, don't take that into your head as well. In fact, I'm afraid of him now. In the racing droshky, you say; but I really just snicked by him... what if he does indeed have a revolver?... It's a good thing I brought mine along. Here it is' (he took a revolver from his pocket, showed it, and immediately put it back again). 'I brought it along on account of the far distance ... Anyhow, I'll fix it up for you in a second: her little heart is precisely aching for Mavriky now ... at least it should be... and you know—by God, I'm even slightly sorry for her now! I'll put her together with Mavriky, and she'll immediately start remembering you—praising you to him and abusing him to his face—a woman's heart! Well, so you're laughing again? I'm terribly glad you've cheered up so much. Well, then, let's go. I'll start straight off with Mavriky, and those... the murdered ones... you know, why don't we just not mention them for now? She'll find out later anyway.'
'Find out what? Who has been murdered? What did you say about Mavriky Nikolaevich?' Liza suddenly opened the door.
'Ah! you've been eavesdropping?'
'What did you just say about Mavriky Nikolaevich? Has he been murdered?'
'Ah! so you didn't quite hear! Calm yourself, Mavriky Nikolaevich is alive and well, which you can instantly ascertain for yourself, because he's here on the roadside, by the garden fence... and spent the whole night there, it seems; he's soaked through, in his greatcoat ... I drove by, he saw me.'
'That isn't true. You said 'murdered'... Who has been murdered?' she insisted, with painful mistrust.
'Only my wife, her brother Lebyadkin, and their housekeeper have been murdered,' Stavrogin declared firmly.
Liza gave a start and turned terribly pale.
'A brutal case, a strange case, Lizaveta Nikolaevna, a most stupid case of robbery,' Pyotr Stepanovich began rattling at once, 'just robbery, taking advantage of the fire; it's the doing of the brigand Fedka the Convict, and that fool Lebyadkin, who was showing everyone his money ... I came flying to tell you... like a smack on the head. Stavrogin could barely keep his feet when I told him. We were discussing whether to tell you now or not.'
'Nikolai Vsevolodovich, is he telling the truth?' Liza barely uttered.
'No, it's not the truth.'
'How, not the truth!' Pyotr Stepanovich jumped. 'What's this now!'
'Lord, I'm losing my mind!' Liza cried out.
'But understand, at least, that right now he is the mad one!' Pyotr Stepanovich shouted with all his might. 'After all, his wife has been murdered. See how pale he is ... Wasn't he with you all night, without leaving you for a moment, how can you suspect him?'
'Nikolai Vsevolodovich, tell me, as before God, are you guilty or not, and I swear I'll believe your word as if it were God's own, and follow you to the ends of the earth, oh, I will! I'll go like a little dog...'
'Why are you tormenting her, you fantastic head?' Pyotr Stepanovich flew into a frenzy. 'Lizaveta Nikolaevna, grind me in a mortar, by gosh, but he's innocent, on the contrary, he's crushed and raving, you can see that. He's not guilty of anything, not of anything, not even of the thought! ... It's all the doing of brigands alone, who will certainly be found within a week and punished with flogging... Fedka the Convict and the Shpigulin men are the ones, the whole town's rattling about it, which is why I am, too.'
'Is that right? Is that right?' Liza waited, all trembling, for her final sentence.
'I didn't kill them and was against it, but I knew they would be killed, and I didn't stop the killers. Leave me, Liza,' Stavrogin uttered, and he turned and went into the drawing room.
Liza covered her face with her hands, turned, and went out. Pyotr Stepanovich first dashed after her, but immediately came back to the drawing room.
'So that's how you are? So that's how you are? So you're not afraid of anything?' he fell upon Stavrogin in a perfect fury, muttering incoherently, almost at a loss for words, foaming at the mouth.
Stavrogin stood in the middle of the room without answering a word. He lightly grasped a tuft of his hair with his left hand and smiled forlornly. Pyotr Stepanovich pulled him hard by the sleeve.
'Are you all there, or what? So this is what you're doing now? You'll denounce everybody and take yourself to a monastery, or to the devil... But I'll bump you off all the same, even if you're not afraid of me!'
'Ah, it's you rattling!' Stavrogin finally made him out. 'Run,' he suddenly came to his senses, 'run after her, order the carriage, don't abandon her ... Run, run! Take her home, so that no one knows, and so that she doesn't go there ... at the bodies ... at the bodies... force her to get into the carriage. Alexei Yegorych! Alexei Yegorych!'
'Stop, don't shout! She's in Mavriky's arms by now... Mavriky is not going to get into your carriage... Stop! This is more precious than the carriage!'
He snatched out the revolver again; Stavrogin gave him a serious look.
'Go ahead, kill me,' he said softly, almost peaceably.
'Pah, the devil, what lies a man heaps on himself!' Pyotr Stepanovich was simply shaking. 'By God, you ought to be killed! Truly, she should have spat on you! What sort of 'bark' are you; you're an old, leaky timber barge, fit to be
