Stavrogin grinned strangely.

"If you weren't such a clown, perhaps I'd say yes now ... If you were just a drop smarter..."

"I am a clown, but I don't want you, my main half, to be a clown! Do you understand me?"

Stavrogin did understand, and he alone, perhaps. For Shatov was amazed when Stavrogin told him there was enthusiasm in Pyotr Stepanovich.

"Leave me now, go to the devil, and by tomorrow I'll wring something out of myself. Come tomorrow."

"Yes? Yes?"

"How do I know! ... To the devil, to the devil!"

And he left the room.

"Maybe it's all still for the better," Pyotr Stepanovich muttered to himself, putting the revolver away.

III

He rushed to catch up with Lizaveta Nikolaevna. She had not gone very far yet, only a few steps from the house. She had been detained for a while by Alexei Yegorovich, who was still following her, a step behind, in a tailcoat, reverently inclined and hatless. He begged her persistently to wait for the carriage; the old man was frightened and almost weeping.

"Go, the master's asking for tea, there's no one to serve him," Pyotr Stepanovich pushed him away and at once took Lizaveta Nikolaevna's arm.

She did not pull her arm free, but seemed not to have quite recovered her reason, not to have come to her senses yet.

"First of all, you're not going the right way," Pyotr Stepanovich began to prattle, "we must go that way, not past the garden; and, second, in any case it's not possible on foot, it's a good two miles, and you're not dressed for it. If you'd wait a bit. I came in a droshky, the horse is here in the yard, I'll bring it in a moment, put you in, and deliver you so that no one will see."

"You're so kind..." Liza said tenderly.

"For pity's sake, on such an occasion any humane person in my place would also..."

Liza looked at him and was surprised.

"Ah, my God, and I thought that old man was still here!"

"Listen, I'm terribly glad you're taking it this way, because it's all a terrible prejudice, and since that's the way it is, why don't I order this old man to take care of the carriage, it's just ten minutes, and we'll go back and wait under the porch, eh?"

"I first want... where are those murdered people?"

"Ah, what a fancy! Just what I was afraid of... No, we'd better leave that trash alone; and there's nothing there to look at."

"I know where they are, I know that house."

"So what if you do know! The rain, the fog, for pity's sake (what a sacred duty I've heaped on myself, though!)... Listen, Lizaveta Nikolaevna, it's one of two things: either you come with me in the droshky, in which case stop and don't go a step farther, because another twenty steps and Mavriky Nikolaevich will certainly notice us."

"Mavriky Nikolaevich! Where? Where?"

"Well, and if you want to go with him, then perhaps I'll take you a little farther and show you where he's sitting, and then—I'm your humble servant. I don't want to get near him right now."

"He's waiting for me, oh, God!" she suddenly stopped, and color spread over her face.

"But, for pity's sake, if he's a man without prejudices! You know, Lizaveta Nikolaevna, it's all none of my business; I'm completely outside of it, and you know that yourself; but still, I do wish you well ... If our 'bark' has failed, if it has turned out to be just an old, rotten barge, only fit to be broken up..."

"Ah, wonderful!" Liza cried out.

"Wonderful, and with tears pouring down. One needs courage here. One mustn't yield to a man in anything. In our day and age, when a woman... pah, the devil!" (Pyotr Stepanovich nearly spat). "And, mainly, there's nothing to be sorry for: maybe it will all turn out excellently. Mavriky Nikolaevich is a ... in a word, he's a sensitive man, though not very talkative, which, however, is also good, on condition, of course, if he's without prejudices..."

"Wonderful, wonderful!" Liza burst into hysterical laughter.

"Ah, well, the devil... Lizaveta Nikolaevna," Pyotr Stepanovich was suddenly piqued, "as a matter of fact, it's for you that I... what is it to me ... I did you a service yesterday when you yourself wanted it, but today... Well, from here you can see Mavriky Nikolaevich, there he sits, he doesn't see us. I wonder, Lizaveta Nikolaevna, have you ever read Polinka Sachs?"^[187]

"What is it?"

"There's this novella, Polinka Sachs. I read it when I was still a student... In it some official, Sachs, with a big fortune, arrests his wife at their summer house for infidelity... Ah, well, the devil, spit on it! You'll see, Mavriky Nikolaevich will propose to you even before you get home. He still hasn't seen us."

"Ah, he mustn't see us!" Liza cried out suddenly, as if insane. "Let's go away, go away! To the forest, to the fields!"

And she started running back.

"Lizaveta Nikolaevna, this is real faintheartedness!" Pyotr Stepanovich ran after her. "Why don't you want him to see you? On the contrary, look him proudly and directly in the eye ... If it's something about that... maidenly... it's such a prejudice, such backwardness... But where are you going, where? Ehh, she's running! Let's better go back to Stavrogin, get my droshky... But where are you going? That's a field... hah, she fell! ..."

He stopped. Liza was flying like a bird, not knowing where, and Pyotr Stepanovich already lagged fifty steps behind her. She stumbled over a mound and fell. At the same moment, from in back, to one side, came a terrible cry, the cry of Mavriky Nikolaevich, who had seen her run and fall, and was running to her across the field. Pyotr Stepanovich instantly retreated through the gates of Stavrogin's house, to get quickly into his droshky.

And Mavriky Nikolaevich, terribly frightened, was already standing by Liza, who had gotten to her feet, was bending over her and holding her hand in his. The whole incredible situation of this encounter shook his reason, and tears streamed down his face. He had seen her, before whom he stood in awe, madly running across the field, at such an hour, in such weather, wearing only a dress, yesterday's magnificent dress, crumpled now, dirty from her fall... Unable to say a word, he took off his greatcoat and, with trembling hands, began to cover her shoulders. Suddenly he gave a cry, feeling her touch his hand with her lips.

"Liza!" he cried, "I'm no good for anything, but don't drive me away from you!"

"Oh, yes, let's leave here quickly, don't abandon me!" and taking him by the hand, she drew him after her. "Mavriky Nikolaevich," she suddenly lowered her voice fearfully, "I kept pretending I was brave in there, but here I'm afraid of death. I'll die, I'll die very soon, but I'm afraid, afraid to die..." she whispered, squeezing his hand hard.

"Oh, if only someone," he kept looking around in despair, "if only someone would pass by! Your feet will get wet, you'll... lose your reason!"

"Never mind, never mind," she reassured him, "like that, I'm less afraid with you, hold my hand, lead me ... Where are we going now, home? No, I want to see the murdered ones first. I've heard they murdered his wife, and he says he murdered her himself; but it's not true, it's not true, is it? I myself want to see the ones who were murdered ... for me... because of them he stopped loving me last night. . . I'll see and I'll know everything. Hurry, hurry, I know that house... there's fire there... Mavriky Nikolaevich, my friend, don't forgive me, dishonorable as I am! Why forgive me? What are you crying for? Slap me in the face and kill me here in the field, like a dog!"