4: The Last Decision

I

Many saw Pyotr Stepanovich that morning; those who did recall that he was extremely excited. At two o'clock in the afternoon he ran by to see Gaganov, who had arrived from the country just the day before, and where a whole house full of visitors had gathered who talked much and hotly about the events that had just transpired. Pyotr Stepanovich talked most of all and made himself heard. He was always regarded among us as a "garrulous student with a hole in his head," but now he was talking about Yulia Mikhailovna, and, considering the general turmoil, the topic was a gripping one. In his quality as her recent and most intimate confidant, he reported many quite new and unexpected details about her; inadvertently (and, of course, imprudently) he reported some of her personal opinions about people widely known in town, thereby instantly pricking some vanities. It all came out vague and muddled, as from a none-too-clever man who yet, as an honest person, was faced with the painful necessity of explaining all at once a whole heap of perplexities, and who, in his simplehearted awkwardness, did not know himself where to begin and where to end. He let slip, also rather imprudently, that Yulia Mikhailovna knew the whole of Stavrogin's secret and that she herself had conducted the whole intrigue. And she had also done him, Pyotr Stepanovich, a bad turn, because he himself had been in love with this unfortunate Liza, and yet he had been so "turned around" that he had almost taken her to Stavrogin in a carriage. "Yes, yes, gentlemen, it's all very well for you to laugh, but if only I'd known, if I'd known how it would end!" he concluded. To various anxious inquiries about Stavrogin, he declared directly that the catastrophe with Lebyadkin was, in his opinion, pure chance, and the one to blame for it all was Lebyadkin himself who displayed his money. He explained this particularly well. One of the listeners at some point observed to him that he had no business "playacting"; that he ate, drank, and all but slept in Yulia Mikhailovna's house, and was now the first to besmirch her, and that it was not at all as pretty a thing as he supposed. But Pyotr Stepanovich defended himself at once: "I ate and drank not because I had no money, and I'm not to blame if I was invited there. Allow me to judge for myself how grateful I ought to be for that."

Generally, the impression was in his favor: "Granted he's an absurd fellow and, of course, an empty one, but how is he to blame for Yulia Mikhailovna's follies? On the contrary, it appears he tried to stop her..."

At about two o'clock the news suddenly spread that Stavrogin, of whom there was so much talk, had unexpectedly left for Petersburg on the midday train. This was very interesting; many frowned. Pyotr Stepanovich was struck to such an extent that they say he even changed countenance and exclaimed strangely: "But who could have let him out?" He immediately left Gaganov's at a run. However, he was seen in two or three other houses.

Towards dusk he found an opportunity for penetrating to Yulia Mikhailovna, though with great difficulty, because she decidedly had no wish to receive him. I learned of this circumstance only three weeks later from the lady herself, before her departure for Petersburg. She did not go into detail, but observed with a shudder that he had "amazed her then beyond all measure." I suppose he simply frightened her with a threat of complicity in case she decided to "talk." This need to frighten was closely bound up with his designs at the time, certainly unknown to her, and only afterwards, about five days later, did she guess why he had so doubted her silence and so feared any new outbursts of indignation from her...

Before eight o'clock in the evening, when it was already quite dark, on the outskirts of town, in Fomin Lane, in a small lopsided house, in the apartment of Ensign Erkel, our people gathered in full complement, all five of them. The place of the general meeting had been appointed by Pyotr Stepanovich himself; but he was unpardonably late, and the members had already been waiting an hour for him. This Ensign Erkel was that same little visiting officer who had sat the whole time at Virginsky's party with a pencil in his hand and a notebook in front of him. He had arrived in town not long ago, rented a solitary place in a secluded lane from two sisters, old tradeswomen, and was due to leave soon; to gather at his place was most inconspicuous. This strange boy was distinguished by an extraordinary taciturnity; he could sit for ten evenings in a row, in noisy company and amid the most extraordinary conversations, without saying a word himself, but, on the contrary, with extreme attention, following the speakers with his child's eyes and listening. His face was very pretty and even as if intelligent. He did not belong to the fivesome; our people supposed he had special instructions of some sort and from somewhere, purely along executive lines. It is now known that he had no instructions, and that he hardly even understood his position. He simply bowed down before Pyotr Stepanovich, whom he had met not long before. Had he met some prematurely depraved monster who under some socio-romantic pretext egged him on to found a band of robbers and ordered him, as a test, to kill and rob the first peasant he came upon, he would certainly have gone and obeyed. He had a sick mother somewhere to whom he sent half of his scanty pay—and how she must have kissed that poor blond head, trembled for it, prayed for it! I enlarge upon him so much because I am very sorry for him.

Our people were excited. They had been struck by the events of the past night and, it seems, had gone cowardly. The simple but systematic scandal in which they had so zealously taken part so far, had had an outcome they did not expect. The night fire, the murder of the Lebyadkins, the crowd's violence over Liza—these were all surprises not envisioned in their program. They hotly accused the hand that moved them of despotism and disingenuousness. In short, while waiting for Pyotr Stepanovich, they incited each other so much that they again resolved finally to ask him for a categorical explanation, and if he evaded once more, as had already happened, even to break up the fivesome, but so as to found, in place of it, a new secret society for the

"propaganda of ideas," and that by themselves, on the principles of equal rights and democracy. Liputin, Shigalyov, and the knower of the people especially supported this idea; Lyamshin kept mum, though with an air of agreement. Virginsky hesitated and wished to hear out Pyotr Stepanovich first. It was resolved that they would hear out Pyotr Stepanovich; but he still did not come; such negligence added even more venom. Erkel was totally silent and merely arranged for tea to be served, which he brought with his own hands from his landladies, in glasses on a tray, without bringing in the samovar or letting the servingwoman enter.

Pyotr Stepanovich arrived only at half past eight. With quick steps he went up to the round table in front of the sofa, around which the company had placed themselves; he kept his hat in his hand and refused tea. His look was angry, stern, and haughty. He must have noticed at once by their faces that they were "rebellious."

"Before I open my mouth, you lay out your stuff, you've got yourselves all braced for it," he observed with a spiteful smile, looking around at their physiognomies.

Liputin began "on behalf of all" and, in a voice trembling with offense, announced "that if it goes on like this, one could smash one's own head, sir." Oh, they're not at all afraid to smash their heads, and are even ready to, but only for the common cause. (A general stirring and concurring.) And therefore let there be frankness with them as well, so that they would always know beforehand, "otherwise what will it come to?" (Again a stirring, some guttural sounds.) To act in this way is humiliating and dangerous... It's not at all because we're afraid, but if there's one who acts and the rest are mere pawns, then the one may bungle it, and all will get caught. (Exclamations: yes, yes! General support.)