pockmarked one sent me. They’re not at home; I’ve just met Versilov and Lambert; they were driving to Tatyana Pavlovna’s . . . they’re there now . . .”

I stopped the cab and jumped over to Trishatov. To this day I don’t understand how I could have decided so suddenly, but I suddenly believed and suddenly decided. Alphonsinka screamed terribly, but we abandoned her, and I don’t know whether she turned to follow us or went home, but anyhow I never saw her again.

In the cab, Trishatov haphazardly and breathlessly told me that there was some machination, that Lambert had come to an agreement with the pockmarked one, but that the pockmarked one had betrayed him at the last minute, and had just sent Trishatov to Tatyana Pavlovna to inform her that she should not believe Lambert and Alphonsinka. Trishatov added that he knew nothing more, because the pockmarked one hadn’t told him any more, because he’d had no time, that he himself had hurried off somewhere, and that it had all been done hastily. “I saw you driving,” Trishatov went on, “and chased after you.” Of course, it was clear that this pockmarked one also knew everything, because he had sent Trishatov straight to Tatyana Pavlovna; but this was a new riddle.

But to avoid confusion, before describing the catastrophe, I’ll explain the whole real truth and run ahead of myself for the last time.

IV

HAVING STOLEN THE letter then, Lambert at once joined with Versilov. Of how Versilov could have coupled himself with Lambert, I will not speak now; that’s for later; above all, it was the “double” here! But having coupled himself with Versilov, Lambert was faced with luring Katerina Nikolaevna as cleverly as possible. Versilov told him outright that she wouldn’t come. But Lambert, ever since I had met him in the street that evening two days before and, to show off, had told him I would return the letter to her in Tatyana Pavlovna’s apartment and in Tatyana Pavlovna’s presence—Lambert from that moment on had set up some sort of espionage on Tatyana Pavlovna’s apartment—namely, he had bribed Marya. He had given Marya twenty roubles, and then, a day later, when the theft of the document had been accomplished, he had visited Marya for a second time and come to a radical agreement with her, promising her two hundred roubles for her services.

That was why, when she heard earlier that Katerina Nikolaevna would be at Tatyana Pavlovna’s at half-past eleven and that I would be there as well, Marya immediately rushed out of the house and went galloping in a cab to Lambert with the news. This was precisely what she was to inform Lambert of—it was in this that her service consisted. Just at that moment, Versilov, too, was at Lambert’s. In one second Versilov came up with this infernal combination. They say that madmen can be terribly clever at certain moments.

The combination consisted in luring the two of us, Tatyana and me, out of the apartment, at all costs, for at least a quarter of an hour, but before Katerina Nikolaevna’s arrival. Then—to wait outside, and as soon as Tatyana Pavlovna and I left, to run into the apartment, which Marya would open for them, and wait for Katerina Nikolaevna. Meanwhile, Alphonsinka was to do her best to keep us wherever she liked and however she liked. Katerina Nikolaevna was to arrive, as she had promised, at half-past eleven, meaning at least twice sooner than we could return. (Needless to say, Katerina Nikolaevna had not received any invitation from Lambert, and Alphonsinka had told a pack of lies, and it was this trick that Versilov had thought up in all its details, while Alphonsinka had only played the role of the frightened traitress.) Of course, there was a risk, but their reasoning was correct: “If it works—good; if not—nothing’s lost, because the document is still in our hands.” But it did work, and it couldn’t help working, because we couldn’t help running after Alphonsinka, if only on the supposition, “And what if it’s all true!” Again I repeat, there was no time to consider.

V

TRISHATOV AND I CAME running into the kitchen and found Marya in a fright. She had been struck because, as she let Lambert and Versilov in, she suddenly somehow noticed a revolver in Lambert’s hand. Though she had taken the money, the revolver had not entered into her calculations. She was bewildered and, as soon as she saw me, rushed to me:

“Mme. Akhmakov has come, and they’ve got a pistol!”

“Trishatov, wait here in the kitchen,” I ordered, “and the moment I shout, come running as fast as you can to help me.”

Marya opened the door to the little corridor for me, and I slipped into Tatyana Pavlovna’s bedroom—that same tiny room in which there was only space enough for Tatyana Pavlovna’s bed and in which I had once eavesdropped inadvertently. I sat on the bed and at once found myself an opening in the portiere.

But there was already noise and loud talk in the room. I’ll note that Katerina Nikolaevna had entered the apartment exactly one minute after them. I had already heard noise and talk from the kitchen; it was Lambert shouting. She was sitting on the sofa, and he was standing in front of her and shouting like a fool. Now I know why he so stupidly lost his wits: he was in a hurry and was afraid they would be caught; later I’ll explain precisely whom he was afraid of. The letter was in his hand. But Versilov was not in the room. I prepared myself to rush in at the first sign of danger. I give only the meaning of what was said, maybe there’s much that I don’t remember correctly, but I was too agitated then to memorize it with final precision.

“This letter is worth thirty thousand roubles, and you’re surprised! It’s worth a hundred thousand, and I’m asking only thirty!” Lambert said loudly and in awful excitement.

Katerina Nikolaevna, though obviously frightened, looked at him with a sort of scornful surprise.

“I see some trap has been set here, and I don’t understand anything,” she said, “but if you really have that letter . . .”

“Here it is, you can see for yourself! Isn’t this it? A promissory note for thirty thousand and not a kopeck less!” Lambert interrupted her.

“I have no money.”

“Write a promissory note—here’s some paper. Then go and get the money, and I’ll wait, but a week—no longer. You bring the money, I’ll give you back the promissory note, and then I’ll give you the letter.”

“You speak to me in such a strange tone. You’re mistaken. If I go and complain, this document will be taken from you today.”

“To whom? Ha, ha, ha! And the scandal? And if we show the letter to the prince? Taken from me how? I don’t keep documents in my apartment. I’ll show it to the prince through a third person. Don’t be stubborn, lady, say thank you that I’m not asking much, somebody else would ask for certain favors besides . . . you know what kind . . . something no pretty woman refuses in embarrassing circumstances, that’s what kind . . . Heh, heh, heh! Vous etes belle, vous! ”121

Katerina Nikolaevna impetuously got up from her place, blushed all over, and—spat in his face. Then she quickly made for the door. It was here that the fool Lambert snatched out the revolver. He had blindly believed, like a

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