"Well, I'm so glad!" the prince sighed joyfully. "I was so afraid for him!"

"Afraid? Does that mean you have reasons to be?" Lebedev narrowed his eyes.

"Oh, no, I just said it," the prince checked himself. "It was stupid of me to say I was afraid. Kindly don't tell anyone, Lebedev . . ."

"Prince, Prince! Your words are in my heart . . . deep in my heart! A grave, sir! . . ." Lebedev said rapturously, pressing his hat to his heart.

"All right, all right! ... So it's Ferdyshchenko? That is, I mean to say, you suspect Ferdyshchenko?"

"Who else?" Lebedev said quietly, looking intently at the prince.

"Well, yes, naturally . . . who else . . . that is, once again, what evidence is there?"

"There is evidence, sir. First of all, his disappearance at seven o'clock or even before seven o'clock in the morning."

"I know, Kolya told me he came and said he was going to spend the rest of the night at ... I forget whose place, some friend's."

"Vilkin, sir. So Nikolai Ardalionovich told you already?"

"He didn't say anything about the theft."

"He doesn't know, for I have so far kept the matter a secret. And so, he goes to Vilkin; you might think, what's so puzzling about a drunk man going to see another drunk man just like himself, even though it's the wee hours of the morning and without any reason at all, sir? But it's here that the trail begins: on his way out, he leaves the address . . . Now follow the question, Prince: why did he leave the address? . . . Why does he purposely go to Nikolai Ardalionovich, making a detour, sir, and tell him, 'I'm going to spend the rest of the night at Vilkin's'? And who is interested in his leaving and going precisely to Vilkin's? Why announce it? No, there's a subtlety here, a thievish subtlety! It means: 'Look here, I'm not concealing my tracks, what kind of thief am I after that? Would a thief announce where he's going?' An excessive concern about diverting suspicion and, so to speak, wiping away his tracks in the sand . . . Do you understand me, my much-esteemed Prince?"

"I understand, I understand very well, but is that enough?"

"A second piece of evidence, sir: the trail turned out to be false, and the address he gave was inexact. An hour later, that is, at eight o'clock, I was already knocking on Vilkin's door; he lives here, on Fifth Street, sir, I'm even acquainted with him. There wasn't any Ferdyshchenko there. Though I did get out of the maid—she's completely deaf, sir—that an hour earlier someone had actually knocked, and even rather hard, so that he broke the bell. But the maid didn't open the door, not wishing to waken Mr. Vilkin, and maybe not wanting to get out of bed herself. It happens, sir."

"And that is all your evidence? It's not much."

"But, Prince, who else should I suspect, just think?" Lebedev concluded sweetly, and something sly showed in his smile.

"Why don't you look around the rooms once more and in all the drawers!" the prince said worriedly, after some thought.

"I did, sir!" Lebedev sighed still more sweetly.

"Hm! . . . and why, why did you have to change that frock coat!" the prince exclaimed, pounding the table in vexation.

"A question from an old comedy, sir. But, my most good-natured Prince! You take my misfortune too much to heart! I don't deserve it. That is, by myself I don't deserve it; but you also suffer for the criminal . . . for the worthless Mr. Ferdyshchenko?"

"Well, yes, yes, you've really got me worried," the prince interrupted him absentmindedly and with displeasure. "And so, what do you intend to do ... if you're so sure it's Ferdyshchenko?"

"Prince, much-esteemed Prince, who else is there, sir?" Lebedev squirmed with ever-increasing sweetness. "The unavailability of anyone else to point to and the, so to speak, perfect impossibility of suspecting anyone besides Mr. Ferdyshchenko, is, so to speak, more evidence against Mr. Ferdyshchenko, a third piece! For, again, who else is there? Can I really suspect Mr. Burdovsky, heh, heh, heh?"

"Ah, no, what nonsense!"

"Or the general, finally, heh, heh, heh?"

"What a wild idea!" the prince said almost crossly, turning impatiently on his seat.

"Wild it is! Heh, heh, heh! And the man did make me laugh, the general, I mean, sir! He and I set out this morning hot on the trail to Vilkin, sir . . . and I must point out to you that the general was even more struck than I was when I woke him up first thing after the disappearance, so that he even changed countenance, turned red, then pale, and in the end suddenly arrived at such bitter and noble indignation that I even never expected such a degree, sir. A most noble man! He lies incessantly, out of weakness, but he's a man of the loftiest feelings, and with that a man of little understanding, inspiring complete trust by his innocence. I've already told you, my much-esteemed Prince, that I not only have a soft spot for him, but even love him, sir. He suddenly stops in the middle of the street, opens his frock coat, offers his chest: 'Search me,' he says, 'you searched Keller, why don't you search me? Justice demands it!' he says. The man's arms and legs are

trembling, he's even turning pale, he has a menacing look. I laughed and said: 'Listen, General,' I said, 'if somebody else said it about you, I'd take my head off with my own hands, put it on a big platter, and offer it myself to all who doubt: "Here," I'd say, "see this head, so with this same head of mine I vouch for him, and not only with the head, but I'd even go through fire." That's how ready I am to vouch for you!' At this point he threw himself into my arms, right in the middle of the street, sir, became tearful, trembled and pressed me to his heart so tightly I could hardly clear my throat: 'You,' he says, 'are the only friend I have left in my misfortunes!' A sentimental man, sir! Well, naturally, on our way he told me an appropriate story about how, in his youth, he had once been suspected of having stolen five hundred thousand roubles, but that the very next day he had thrown himself into the flames of a burning house and saved the count who suspected him and Nina Alexandrovna, who was a young girl then. The count embraced him, and thus his marriage to Nina Alexandrovna came about, and the very next day the box with the lost money was found in the ruins of the burned-down house; it was made of iron, after an English design, with a secret lock, and had somehow fallen through the floor, so that no one noticed, and it was found only owing to the fire. A complete lie, sir. But when he spoke of Nina Alexandrovna, he even started sniveling. A most noble person, Nina Alexandrovna, though she's cross with me."

"You're not acquainted?"

"Nearly not, sir, but I wish with my whole soul that I were, if only so as to vindicate myself before her. Nina Alexandrovna has a grudge against me for supposedly corrupting her husband with drink. But I not only don't corrupt him, but sooner curb him; it may be that I keep him away from more pernicious company. What's more, he's my friend, sir, and, I confess to you, I'm not ever going to leave him, sir, that is, even like this, sir: where he goes, I go, because you can't get anywhere with him except through sentimentality. He doesn't even visit his captain's widow at all now, though secretly he pines for her and even occasionally groans over her, especially each morning, when he gets up and puts his boots on—why precisely then I don't know. He has no money, sir, that's the trouble, and it's quite impossible to go to her without money. Has he asked you for money, my most-esteemed Prince?"