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behaving humanely to God's creatures that are a jolly sight more
estimable than yourself；' I said。 I can't bear to see any
tyranny； Kirylo Sidorovitch。 Upon my word I can't。 He didn't
take it in good part at all。 'Who's that impudent puppy？'
he begins to shout。 I was in excellent form as it happened；
and he went through the closed window very suddenly。 He flew
quite a long way into the yard。 I raged likelike aminotaur。
The women clung to me and screamed； the fiddlers got under the table。
。 。 。Such fun！ My dad had to put his hand pretty deep into his pocket；
I can tell you。〃 He chuckled。
〃My dad is a very useful man。 Jolly good thing it is for me； too。
I do get into unholy scrapes。〃
His elation fell。 That was just it。 What was his life？
Insignificant； no good to anyone； a mere festivity。 It
would end some fine day in his getting his skull split with a
champagne bottle in a drunken brawl。 At such times； too； when
men were sacrificing themselves to ideas。 But he could never get
any ideas into his head。 His head wasn't worth anything better
than to be split by a champagne bottle。
Razumov； protesting that he had no time； made an attempt to get
away。 The other's tone changed to confidential earnestness。
〃For God's sake； Kirylo； my dear soul； let me make some sort of
sacrifice。 It would not be a sacrifice really。 I have my rich
dad behind me。 There's positively no getting to the bottom of
his pocket。〃
And rejecting indignantly Razumov's suggestion that this was
drunken raving； he offered to lend him some money to escape
abroad with。 He could always get money from his dad。 He had
only to say that he had lost it at cards or something of that
sort； and at the same time promise solemnly not to miss a single
lecture for three months on end。 That would fetch the old man；
and he； Kostia； was quite equal to the sacrifice。 Though he
really did not see what was the good for him to attend the
lectures。 It was perfectly hopeless。
〃Won't you let me be of some use？〃 he pleaded to the silent
Razumov； who with his eyes on the ground and utterly unable to
penetrate the real drift of the other's intention； felt a strange
reluctance to clear up the point。
〃What makes you think I want to go abroad？〃 he asked at last
very quietly。
Kostia lowered his voice。
〃You had the police in your rooms yesterday。 There are three or
four of us who have heard of that。 Never mind how we know。 It is
sufficient that we do。 So we have been consulting together。〃
〃Ah！ You got to know that so soon；〃 muttered Razumov negligently。
〃Yes。 We did。 And it struck us that a man like you。 。 。〃
〃What sort of a man do you take me to be？〃 Razumov interrupted him。
〃A man of ideasand a man of action too。 But you are very deep；
Kirylo。 There's no getting to the bottom of your mind。 Not for
fellows like me。 But we all agreed that you must be preserved
for our country。 Of that we have no doubt whateverI mean all
of us who have heard Haldin speak of you on certain occasions。
A man doesn't get the police ransacking his rooms without there
being some devilry hanging over his head。 。 。 。 And so if you
think that it would be better for you to bolt at once。 。 。〃
Razumov tore himself away and walked down the corridor； leaving
the other motionless with his mouth open。 But almost at once he
returned and stood before the amazed Kostia； who shut his mouth
slowly。 Razumov looked him straight in the eyes； before saying
with marked deliberation and separating his words
〃I thankyouverymuch。〃
He went away again rapidly。 Kostia； recovering from his surprise
at these manoeuvres； ran up behind him pressingly。
〃No！ Wait！ Listen。 I really mean it。 It would be like giving
your compassion to a starving fellow。 Do you hear； Kirylo？ And
any disguise you may think of； that too I could procure from a
costumier； a Jew I know。 Let a fool be made serviceable
according to his folly。 Perhaps also a false beard or something
of that kind may be needed。
Razumov turned at bay。
〃There are no false beards needed in this business；
Kostiayou good…hearted lunatic； you。 What do you know of
my ideas？ My ideas may be poison to you。〃 The other began to
shake his head in energetic protest。
〃What have you got to do with ideas？ Some of them would make an
end of your dad's money…bags。 Leave off meddling with what you
don't understand。 Go back to your trotting horses and your
girls； and then you'll be sure at least of doing no harm to
anybody； and hardly any to yourself。〃
The enthusiastic youth was overcome by this disdain。
〃You're sending me back to my pig's trough； Kirylo。 That settles
it。 I am an unlucky beastand I shall die like a beast too。
But mindit's your contempt that has done for me。〃
Razumov went off with long strides。 That this simple and grossly
festive soul should have fallen too under the revolutionary curse
affected him as an ominous symptom of the time。 He reproached
himself for feeling troubled。 Personally he ought to have felt
reassured。 There was an obvious advantage in this conspiracy of
mistaken judgment taking him for what he was not。 But was it not
strange？
Again he experienced that sensation of his conduct being taken
out of his hands by Haldin's revolutionary tyranny。 His solitary
and laborious existence had been destroyedthe only thing he
could call his own on this earth。 By what right？ he asked
himself furiously。 In what name？
What infuriated him most was to feel that the 〃thinkers〃 of the
University were evidently connecting him with Haldinas a sort
of confidant in the background apparently。 A mysterious connexion！
Ha ha！。 。 。He had been made a personage without knowing anything
about it。 How that wretch Haldin must have talked about him！
Yet it was likely that Haldin had said very little。 The fellow's
casual utterances were caught up and treasured and pondered over
by all these imbeciles。 And was not all secret revolutionary action
based upon folly； self…deception； and lies？
〃Impossible to think of anything else；〃 muttered Razumov to
himself。 〃I'll become an idiot if this goes on。 The scoundrels
and the fools are murdering my intelligence。〃
He lost all hope of saving his future； which depended on the free
use of his intelligence。
He reached the doorway of his house in a state of mental
discouragement which enabled him to receive with apparent
indifference an official…looking envelope from the dirty hand of
the dvornik。
〃A gendarme brought it；〃 said the man。 〃He asked if you were
at home。 I told him 'No； he's not at home。' So he left it。
'Give it into his own hands；' says he。 Now you've got iteh？〃
He went back to his sweeping； and Razumov climbed his stairs；
envelope in hand。 Once in his room he did not hasten to open it。
Of course this official missive was from the superior direction
of the police。 A suspect！ Asuspect！
He stared in dreary astonishment at the absurdity of his
position。 He thought with a sort of dry； unemotional melancholy；
three years of good work gone； the course of forty more perhaps
jeopardizedturned from hope to terror； because events started
by human folly link themselves into a sequence which no sagacity
can foresee and no courage can break through。 Fatality enters
your rooms while your landlady's back is turned； you come home
and find it in possession bearing a man's name； clothed in
fleshwearing a brown cloth coat and long bootslounging
against the stove。 It asks you； 〃Is the outer door closed？〃and
you don't know enough to take it by the throat and fling it
downstairs。 You don't know。 You welcome the crazy fate。 〃Sit
down；〃 you say。 And it is all over。 You cannot shake it off any
more。 It will cling to you for ever。 Neither halter nor bullet
can give you back the freedom of your life and the sanity of
your thought。 。 。 。 It was enough to dash one's head
against a wall。
Razumov looked slowly all round the walls as if to select a spot
to dash his head against。 Then he opened the letter。 It
directed the student Kirylo Sidorovitch Razumov to present
himself without delay at the General Secretariat。
Razumov had a vision of General T…'s goggle eyes waiting for
himthe embodied power of autocracy； grotesque and terrible。 He
embodied the whole power of autocracy because he was its
guardian。 He was the incarnate suspicion； the incarnate anger；
the incarnate ruthlessness of a political and social regime on
its defence。 He loathed rebellion by instinct。 And Razumov
reflected that the man was simply unable to understand a
reasonable adherence to the doctrine of absolutism。
〃What can he want with me preciselyI wonder？〃 he asked himself。
As if that mental question had evoked the familiar phantom；
Haldin stood suddenly before him in the room with an