"He's a bedbug, an ignoramus, a tomfool, who doesn't understand a thing about Russia!" Shatov cried spitefully.

"You know him very little. It's true that they all generally understand little about Russia, but perhaps only slightly less than you and I; and, besides, Verkhovensky is an enthusiast."

"Verkhovensky an enthusiast?"

"Oh, yes. There's a point where he ceases to be a buffoon and turns half crazy. I ask you to recall an expression of yours: 'Do you know how strong one man can be?' Please don't laugh, he's quite capable of pulling a trigger. They're sure that I, too, am a spy. For lack of skill in conducting their own affairs, they're all terribly fond of accusations of spying."

"But you're not afraid, are you?"

"N-no... I'm not much afraid... But your case is quite different. I've warned you so that you can at least keep it in mind. I don't think you should be offended that you're being threatened by fools; their intelligence is not the point: they've raised their hand against better than you and me. However, it's a quarter past eleven," he looked at his watch and got up from his chair. "I'd like to ask you one quite unrelated question."

"For God's sake!" Shatov exclaimed, jumping up impetuously from his seat.

"Meaning what?" Nikolai Vsevolodovich looked at him questioningly.

"Do ask, ask me your question, for God's sake," Shatov repeated, in inexpressible agitation, "only I'm also going to ask you a question. I beg you to allow me ... I can't... ask me your question!"

Stavrogin waited a little and then began:

"I've heard you had some influence here on Marya Timofeevna, and that she liked seeing and listening to you. Is it so?"

"Yes... she did listen..." Shatov was somewhat embarrassed.

"I have the intention of announcing my marriage to her one of these days, publicly, here in town."

"Can it be possible?" Shatov whispered, almost horrified.

"In what sense do you mean? There are no difficulties about it; the witnesses to the marriage are here. It all took place back in Petersburg in a completely calm and lawful manner, and if it hasn't been revealed before now, that is simply because the only two witnesses to the marriage, Kirillov and Pyotr Verkhovensky, and, finally, Lebyadkin himself (whom I now have the pleasure of regarding as my relation), gave their word at the time to keep silent."

"I don't mean that... You talk so calmly ... but go on! Listen, you weren't forced into this marriage, were you?"

"No, no one forced me," Nikolai Vsevolodovich smiled at Shatov's provocative haste.

"And what's all this talk of hers about her baby?" Shatov hurried on, feverishly and disconnectedly.

"About her baby? Hah! I didn't know, it's the first time I've heard of it. She had no baby, and couldn't have: Marya Timofeevna is a virgin."

"Ah! Just as I thought! Listen!"

"What's the matter with you, Shatov?"

Shatov hid his face in his hands, turned away, but suddenly seized Stavrogin firmly by the shoulder.

"Do you know, do you at least know," he shouted, "why you did it all, and why you've decided on such a punishment now?"

"Your question is intelligent and caustic, but I am also going to surprise you: yes, I do almost know why I got married then, and why I've decided on such a 'punishment,' as you put it, now."

"Let's leave that... of that later, don't say yet; but about the main thing, the main thing: I've been waiting two years for you."

"Really?"

"I've been waiting too long a time for you, I've been thinking ceaselessly about you. You are the only man who could ... I wrote you about it still in America."

"I remember well your long letter."

"Too long to read? I agree: six sheets of writing paper. Keep still, keep still! Tell me: can you give me ten more minutes, but right now, at once?... I've been waiting too long for you!"

"I can give you half an hour, if you like, but not more, if that's possible for you."

"And with this, by the way," Shatov went on fiercely, "that you change your tone. Do you hear? I demand, when I ought to implore ... Do you understand what it means to demand when one ought to implore?"

"I understand that you thereby rise above common things for the sake of higher purposes," Nikolai Vsevolodovich grinned slightly. "I also regret to see that you are in a fever."

"I ask, I demand to be respected!" Shatov went on shouting. "Not for my person—to hell with it—but for something else, just for now, for a few words... We are two beings, and we have come together in infinity... for the last time in the world. Abandon your tone and take a human one! At least for once in your life speak in a human voice. Not for my sake, but for your own. Do you understand that you should forgive me that slap in the face if only because with it I gave you an opportunity to know your infinite power... Again you smile that squeamish, worldly smile. Oh, when will you understand me! Away with the young squire! Understand that I demand it, I do, otherwise I'm not going to speak, not for anything!"

His frenzy was reaching the point of raving; Nikolai Vsevolodovich frowned and seemed to become more guarded.

"If I have agreed to stay for half an hour," he said imposingly and seriously, "when time is so precious to me, then you may believe that I intend to listen to you with interest at least, and... and I am sure I shall hear much that is new from you."

He sat down on a chair.

"Sit down!" Shatov cried, and somehow suddenly sat down himself.

"Allow me to remind you, however," Stavrogin recalled once again, "that I had begun a whole request to you concerning Marya Timofeevna, a very important one, for her at least..."

"Well?" Shatov suddenly frowned, looking like someone who has suddenly been interrupted at the most important point, and who, though he is looking at you, has still not quite managed to grasp your question.

"And you didn't let me finish," Nikolai Vsevolodovich concluded with a smile.

"Eh, well, nonsense—later!" Shatov waved his hand squeamishly, having finally understood the claim, and went straight on to his main theme.

VII

"Do you know," he began almost menacingly, leaning forward a little on his chair, flashing his eyes and raising the forefinger of his right hand in front of him (obviously without noticing it), "do you know which is now the only 'god-bearing' nation^[90] on the whole earth, come to renew and save the world in the name of a new God, and to whom alone is given the keys of life and of a new word... Do you know which nation it is, and what is its name?"

"By the way you put it, I must inevitably conclude, and, I suppose, as quickly as possible, that it is the Russian nation ..."

"And you're laughing already—oh, what a tribe!" Shatov reared up.

"Calm yourself, I beg you; on the contrary, I precisely expected something of this sort."

"Expected something of this sort? And are these words not familiar to you?"

"Quite familiar; I see only too well what you're driving at. Your whole phrase and even the expression 'god-bearing' nation is simply the conclusion of our conversation that took place more than two years ago, abroad, not long before your departure for America ... At least as far as I now recall."