altogether good, from this interview; but Aglaya had been carried away by her own outburst, just as a rolling stone gathers impetus as it careers downhill, and could not restrain herself in the satisfaction of revenge.
It was strange, Nastasia Philipovna felt, to see Aglaya like this. She gazed at her, and could hardly believe her eyes and ears for a moment or two.
Whether she were a woman who had read too many poems, as Evgenie Pavlovitch supposed, or whether she were mad, as the prince had assured Aglaya, at all events, this was a woman who, in spite of her occasionally cynical and audacious manner, was far more refined and trustful and sensitive than appeared. There was a certain amount of romantic dreaminess and caprice in her, but with the fantastic was mingled much that was strong and deep.
The prince realized this, and great suffering expressed itself in his face.
Aglaya observed it, and trembled with anger.
'How dare you speak so to me?' she said, with a haughtiness which was quite indescribable, replying to Nastasia's last remark.
'You must have misunderstood what I said,' said Nastasia, in some surprise.
'If you wished to preserve your good name, why did you not give up your--your 'guardian,' Totski, without all that theatrical posturing?' said Aglaya, suddenly a propos of nothing.
'What do you know of my position, that you dare to judge me?' cried Nastasia, quivering with rage, and growing terribly white.
'I know this much, that you did not go out to honest work, but went away with a rich man, Rogojin, in order to pose as a fallen angel. I don't wonder that Totski was nearly driven to suicide by such a fallen angel.'
'Silence!' cried Nastasia Philipovna. 'You are about as fit to understand me as the housemaid here, who bore witness against her lover in court the other day. She would understand me better than you do.'
'Probably an honest girl living by her own toil. Why do you speak of a housemaid so contemptuously?'
'I do not despise toil; I despise you when you speak of toil.'
'If you had cared to be an honest woman, you would have gone out as a laundress.'
Both had risen, and were gazing at one another with pallid faces.
'Aglaya, don't! This is unfair,' cried the prince, deeply distressed.
Rogojin was not smiling now; he sat and listened with folded arms, and lips tight compressed.
'There, look at her,' cried Nastasia, trembling with passion. 'Look at this young lady! And I imagined her an angel! Did you come to me without your governess, Aglaya Ivanovna? Oh, fie, now shall I just tell you why you came here today? Shall I tell you without any embellishments? You came because you were afraid of me!'
'Afraid of YOU?' asked Aglaya, beside herself with naive amazement that the other should dare talk to her like this.
'Yes, me, of course! Of course you were afraid of me, or you would not have decided to come. You cannot despise one you fear. And to think that I have actually esteemed you up to this very moment! Do you know why you are afraid of me, and what is your object now? You wished to satisfy yourself with your own eyes as to which he loves best, myself or you, because you are fearfully jealous.'
'He has told me already that he hates you,' murmured Aglaya, scarcely audibly.
'Perhaps, perhaps! I am not worthy of him, I know. But I think you are lying, all the same. He cannot hate me, and he cannot have said so. I am ready to forgive you, in consideration of your position; but I confess I thought better of you. I thought you were wiser, and more beautiful, too; I did, indeed! Well, take your treasure! See, he is gazing at you, he can't recollect himself. Take him, but on one condition; go away at once, this instant!'
She fell back into a chair, and burst into tears. But suddenly some new expression blazed in her eyes. She stared fixedly at Aglaya, and rose from her seat.
'Or would you like me to bid him, BID HIM, do you hear, COMMAND HIM, now, at once, to throw you up, and remain mine for ever? Shall I? He will stay, and he will marry me too, and you shall trot home all alone. Shall I?-- shall I say the word?' she screamed like a madwoman, scarcely believing herself that she could really pronounce such wild words.
Aglaya had made for the door in terror, but she stopped at the threshold, and listened. 'Shall I turn Rogojin off? Ha! ha! you thought I would marry him for your benefit, did you? Why, I'll call out NOW, if you like, in your presence, 'Rogojin, get out!' and say to the prince, 'Do you remember what you promised me?' Heavens! what a fool I have been to humiliate myself before them! Why, prince, you yourself gave me your word that you would marry me whatever happened, and would never abandon me. You said you loved me and would forgive me all, and--and resp--yes, you even said that! I only ran away from you in order to set you free, and now I don't care to let you go again. Why does she treat me so-- so shamefully? I am not a loose woman--ask Rogojin there! He'll tell you. Will you go again now that she has insulted me, before your eyes, too; turn away from me and lead her away, arm-in-arm? May you be accursed too, for you were the only one I trusted among them all! Go away, Rogojin, I don't want you,' she continued, blind with fury, and forcing the words out with dry lips and distorted features, evidently not believing a single word of her own tirade, but, at the same time, doing her utmost to prolong the moment of self-deception.
The outburst was so terribly violent that the prince thought it would have killed her.
'There he is!' she shrieked again, pointing to the prince and addressing Aglaya. 'There he is! and if he does not approach me at once and take ME and throw you over, then have him for your own--I give him up to you! I don't want him!'
Both she and Aglaya stood and waited as though in expectation, and both looked at the prince like madwomen.
But he, perhaps, did not understand the full force of this challenge; in fact, it is certain he did not. All he could see was the poor despairing face which, as he had said to Aglaya, 'had pierced his heart for ever.'
He could bear it no longer, and with a look of entreaty, mingled with reproach, he addressed Aglaya, pointing to Nastasia the while:
'How can you?' he murmured; 'she is so unhappy.'
But he had no time to say another word before. Aglaya's terrible look bereft him of speech. In that look was embodied so dreadful a suffering and so deadly a hatred, that he gave a cry and flew to her; but it was too late.
She could not hold out long enough even to witness his movement in her direction. She had hidden her face in her hands, cried once ' Oh, my God!' and rushed out of the room. Rogojin followed her to undo the bolts of the door and let her out into the street.
The prince made a rush after her, but he, was caught and held back. The distorted, livid face of Nastasia gazed at him reproachfully, and her blue lips whispered:
'What? Would you go to her--to her?'
She fell senseless into his arms.
He raised her, carried her into the room, placed her in an arm- chair, and stood over her, stupefied. On the table stood a tumbler of water. Rogojin, who now returned, took this and sprinkled a little in her face. She opened her eyes, but for a moment she understood nothing.
Suddenly she looked around, shuddered, gave a loud cry, and threw herself in the prince's arms.
'Mine, mine!' she cried. 'Has the proud young lady gone? Ha, ha, ha!' she laughed hysterically. 'And I had given him up to her! Why--why did I? Mad--mad! Get away, Rogojin! Ha, ha, ha!'
Rogojin stared intently at them; then he took his hat, and without a word, left the room.
A few moments later, the prince was seated by Nastasia on the sofa, gazing into her eyes and stroking her face and hair, as he would a little child's. He laughed when she laughed, and was ready to cry when she cried. He did not speak, but listened to her excited, disconnected chatter, hardly understanding a word of it the while. No sooner did he detect the slightest appearance of complaining, or weeping, or reproaching, than he would smile at her kindly, and begin stroking her hair and her cheeks, soothing and consoling her once more, as if she were a child.
IX.
A FORTNIGHT had passed since the events recorded in the last chapter, and the position of the actors in our story had become so changed that it is almost impossible for us to continue the tale without some few explanations. Yet we feel that we ought to limit ourselves to the simple record of facts, without much attempt at explanation, for a very patent reason: because we ourselves have the greatest possible difficulty in accounting for
