It was evening, well after dusk, before I finally managed to shake off my oppressive nightmare and come back to reality.
“Nelly,” I said, “you’re sick and upset, but unfortunately I have to leave you, distraught though you are and in tears. My precious one! Listen to me carefully, there’s someone else dear to me who’s been hard done by, full of unrequited love, miserable, insulted and deserted. She’s expecting me. In any case, now I’ve heard your story I’m drawn to her myself so much that if I don’t see her now, this very minute, I’ll probably not endure it…”
I’m not at all sure Nelly understood me. I was still under the effect of my illness and of her story, but I hurried to Natasha regardless. It was already late, gone eight, when I at last reached her place.
On the street in front of the house where Natasha lived, I noticed a calash, which I took to be the Prince’s. The entrance to Natasha’s was from the courtyard. As soon as I entered the stairwell, I heard someone a flight above me groping his way up with great care, evidently unfamiliar with the layout. I reckoned it must be the Prince, but I soon began to have my doubts. The stranger who was making his way up was grunting and cursing ever more with each successive step. Of course the staircase was narrow, dirty, steep and abysmally dark, but such expletives as reached me from above I would never have attributed to the Prince. The gentleman ahead of me swore like a trooper. But on the second floor there was a light; a small lamp was burning by Natasha’s door. I caught up with the stranger right by the door, and my surprise was all the greater when I recognized the Prince. It looked as though he was pretty annoyed at my running into him so unexpectedly. For a moment he couldn’t place me, but suddenly his whole manner relaxed. His initial angry look of antipathy suddenly melted into a cheerful and friendly demeanour, and he held out both his hands to me with extraordinary delight.
“Oh, it’s you! I was just about to go down on my knees to offer thanks to God for having spared my neck. Did you hear me swear?” And he burst into the most endearing laughter. But suddenly his face assumed a grave and concerned look.
“But is this the best Alyosha could find for Natalya Nikolayevna?” he asked, shaking his head. “It’s precisely these so-called trifles that define the man. I’m worried about him. He’s kind, he’s got a good heart, but see for yourself – head over heels in love, and all he can do for the one he loves is put her in such a hole. I even heard they sometimes run out of bread,” he added in a whisper, groping for the bell handle. “I shudder every time I think of his future, I should say of Anna Nikolayevna’s future, when she becomes his wife…”
Although he called her by the wrong name, he didn’t notice it, and was clearly annoyed at not being able to find the bell. There was no bell. I rattled the handle of the lock, and Mavra immediately opened the door and welcomed us with a preoccupied air. In the kitchen, divided off from the tiny passage by a wooden partition, there were signs, as one looked through the open door, of some former activity. Everything had been wiped and scrubbed clean to an unaccustomed degree; there was a fire in the stove and the crockery on the table looked entirely new. It was evident that we were expected. Mavra rushed to take our coats.
“Is Alyosha here?” I asked.
“No,” she whispered somewhat conspiratorially.
We entered Natasha’s room. There were no visible signs of any special preparation; everything was as usual. As a matter of fact everything was always so neat and cosy in her room that there would have been no need for any tidying up. Natasha met us at the door. I was astonished by the extreme pallor and wasted look on her face, even though a flush of colour momentarily suffused her wan cheeks. Her eyes were feverish. Palpably ill at ease, flustered and without saying a word, she hurriedly held out her hand to the Prince. She did not even look my way. I stood and waited in silence.
“Here I am!” the Prince began amicably and cheerfully. “Only been back a few hours. You’ve never been out of my thoughts all this time (he kissed her hand gently), and there’s no end of things I’ve been turning over in my mind thinking about you! There’s so much to tell you, so much you must know… Well, we’ll be able to talk our hearts out, won’t we? First though, my ne’er-do-well son who, as I see, hasn’t arrived yet…”
“Excuse me, Prince,” Natasha interrupted him, blushing and confused, “I’ve got to say a few words to Ivan Petrovich. Vanya, would you mind?… A couple of words…”
She seized my hand and led me behind a screen.
“Vanya,” she said in a whisper, taking me into the darkest corner, “will you or won’t you forgive me?”
“Why, Natasha, what are you talking about?”
“No, Vanya, no, you have forgiven me too much and too often, but there must be a limit to everyone’s goodwill. You’ll never stop loving me, that much I know, but you’ll think I’m ungrateful, and yesterday and the day before I was ungrateful, selfish, cruel…”
She suddenly dissolved in a flood of tears and pressed her face against my shoulder.
“There now, Natasha,” I hastened to comfort her. “I’ve been very ill all night, I can hardly stand even as I speak, that’s why I didn’t come to see you last night or today, and there you are thinking I’m angry with you… My dearest, do you really imagine I don’t know what you’re going through now?”
“Well, that’s settled then… it means you’ve forgiven me, as always,” she said, smiling through tears and squeezing my hand till it hurt. “The rest can wait. I’ve lots to tell you, Vanya. Let’s go back…”
“Yes, let’s, Natasha! It was rude to leave him like that…”
“You just wait and see what happens,” she whispered to me hastily. “I know everything now, I’ve worked it all out. It’s all his fault. A lot is going to be settled tonight. Let’s go!”
I didn’t quite know what she meant, but there was no time to ask. Natasha approached the Prince with a radiant face. He was still standing with his hat in his hands. She good-humouredly offered her apologies, took his hat, brought up a chair for him herself, and all three of us sat round her little table.
“I was saying about my scapegrace,” the Prince continued, “I only saw him for a minute and on the street at that, when he was just off to see Countess Zinaida Fyodorovna. He was in a tearing hurry, and imagine, wouldn’t even stop to come into the house with me after four days of separation. Furthermore, I own, Natalya Nikolayevna, I’m probably to blame for the fact that he isn’t with you now and that we’ve arrived ahead of him. I knew I wouldn’t be able to make it to the Countess’s today, so I took the liberty of sending him on an errand to her instead. But he should be here any minute.”
“He probably promised you he’d come today, did he?” Natasha enquired with the most innocent air, looking at the Prince.
“Goodness, of course, how could he not come! Why do you ask?” he exclaimed in surprise, looking hard at her. “On second thoughts, I know. You’re angry with him. Yes of course, it’s hardly the done thing for him to arrive last of all. But, I repeat, I’m to blame. Don’t be hard on him. He’s irresponsible, flighty. I’m not defending him, but there are some extraordinary factors which demand that not only should he not neglect to call on the Countess or fail to observe certain other courtesies, but on the contrary should visit her as frequently as possible. Well, seeing that he is with you virtually the whole time now and is quite oblivious of everything else on earth, please don’t blame me if I should occasionally usurp him for an hour or two, no more, for my own needs. I’m convinced he’s not been back once to see Princess K. since that evening, and more’s the pity I haven’t managed to question him about it yet!…”
I glanced at Natasha. She was listening to the Prince with a faintly derisive smile. But he spoke so candidly, so naturally. It seemed there were no grounds for suspecting him of anything.
“And did you really not know he’s not been to see me once all these days?” Natasha asked in a soft, calm voice as though speaking of the most habitual occurrence.
“What! Not been to see you once? Do you realize what you’re saying?” he said, apparently in utter amazement.
“You were here on Tuesday, late in the evening; he came the next morning for half an hour, and since then I haven’t seen him once.”
“But that’s incredible! (His amazement was getting more and more pronounced.) I was convinced he hardly left you. I’m sorry, this is so strange… it’s simply beyond me.”
“Nevertheless it’s true, and what a shame, because I was hoping you would come and tell me where he might be.”
“Oh, goodness me! I’m sure he’ll be here directly! But what you told me comes as such a surprise that… I must admit, I could have suspected him of anything but this… surely!…”
“That you should be so amazed! Personally I thought that, so far from being amazed, you knew exactly everything that was going on.”
“Knew! Me? But I assure you, Natalya Nikolayevna, I saw him only for a minute today, and I questioned no one about him. And it strikes me as odd that you appear to disbelieve me,” he continued, looking both of us up and down.
“Good Heavens, no,” Natasha interposed, “I’m perfectly convinced you’re telling the truth.”
And she laughed again, full in his face, which made him draw back.
“Explain yourself,” he said in confusion.
“There’s nothing to explain. I speak very plainly. Surely you know how flighty and forgetful he is. Well, now he’s been given completely free rein, he’s got carried away.”
“But one oughtn’t to get carried away to such an extent; there’s something else behind all this, and as soon as he arrives I’ll insist he gives a full explanation. But what surprises me most of all is that you appear to accuse me too of something, whereas I wasn’t even here. Be that as it may, Natalya Nikolayevna, I can see you’re very angry with him – and I can well understand that! You’ve every right to be, and… and… it goes without saying, I’m the first to blame, well, if only because I was the first to turn up. Am I not right?” he continued, turning to me with an irritated smile.
Natasha flared up.
“I beg your pardon, Natalya Nikolayevna,” he continued with dignity, “granted I am to blame, but only in that I left the day after I made your acquaintance, so what with you being so sensitive – a trait I can’t help noticing in your character – you’ve already managed to change your opinion of me, the more so since circumstances have rather given you grounds for this. Had I not gone away though, you’d have got to know me better, and under my supervision Alyosha would not have been so scatterbrained. Tonight you will hear what I have to say to him.”
“You mean you will ensure that he starts getting tired of me. I just cannot see how, being as clever as you are, you can imagine that such a course of action would be of any help to me.”
“Are you insinuating that I’m deliberately attempting to put him off you? You are doing me an injustice, Natalya Nikolayevna.”
“I’m not in the habit of insinuating anything, whoever I’m talking to,” Natasha replied. “On the contrary, I always try to be as plain as possible, as you may yet discover before the night is out. As for doing you an injustice, that was never my intention, nor could it have been, if only because you’re not likely to be offended by whatever I say. I’m perfectly convinced of that, because I’m only too aware of how things stand between us, and I can’t believe you’re prepared to take our relationship seriously, are you? But if I really have offended you, I’m quite ready to ask your pardon, in order to satisfy the demands of… hospitality.”
In spite of the light-hearted and even jocular tone with which Natasha said all this, smiling as she did, I had never before seen her so agitated. Only now did I become aware of what she must have been going through these past three days. Her mysterious declaration that she knew everything and had worked it all out frightened me; it implicated the Prince directly. She had changed her mind about him, and regarded him as her enemy; that much was plain. She apparently attributed to his influence all her troubles with Alyosha, and perhaps she had some grounds for this. I was afraid there would be a sudden scene between them. Her jocular tone was too transparent, too overt. Her concluding remark that he could not take their relationship seriously, that she was seeking pardon in accordance with the demands of hospitality, and her promise, couched as a threat to prove to him there and then that she was capable of speaking plainly – all that was so trenchant and unambiguous that it was impossible to suppose the Prince would not have understood the full import of it all. I noticed the change of expression in his face, but he knew how to control himself. He immediately pretended that he hadn’t noticed these words, hadn’t understood their full significance and, as was to be expected, took refuge in banter.
“God forbid I should demand an apology!” he responded with a laugh. “That’s not at all what I’m about – anyway it’s against my principles to expect apologies from a lady. You will recall that at our first meeting I tried to warn you about my character, and so I trust you will not take offence at an observation, the more so since it refers to women in general. You too will probably agree with it,” he continued, turning politely towards me. “Namely, I have noticed a trait in the female character: if for example a woman is guilty of something, she would much rather make amends later with a thousand different expressions of tenderness than fully admit to her guilt and ask for forgiveness when caught red-handed. And so, on the assumption that you’ve done me an injustice, I shall deliberately not ask for your apology now, at this precise moment. It would afford me greater satisfaction later, after you’ve recognized your guilt, to observe you making amends… with a thousand different expressions of tenderness. And you’re so good, so pure, so unspoilt, so open that I anticipate the act of your apology would be a true delight. But rather than talk of apologies, why don’t you tell me now if there is any way in which I could prove to you tonight that I’m treating you much more candidly and fairly than you imagine?”
Natasha blushed. It struck me too that there was a note of frivolity, even insouciance, a kind of indiscreet pleasantry in the Prince’s reply.
“You’d like to prove to me that you’re candid and open with me?” Natasha asked, looking at the Prince provocatively.
“Yes.”
“In that case, will you do as I ask you?”
“You have my word unconditionally.”
“It is this: Alyosha is not to be troubled on my account in any way whatsoever, either tonight or tomorrow. Not a single reproach that he had neglected me, not a single word of reproof. When I see him, I particularly want it to look as though nothing had happened between us. He mustn’t suspect a thing. That’s how I want it. Will you give me your word?”
“With the greatest of pleasure,” the Prince replied, “and allow me to add in all sincerity that I have seldom encountered a wiser and more level-headed attitude in such matters… But here we are, I believe this is Alyosha.”
True enough, there was some stir in the passage. Natasha started and seemed to brace herself for something. The Prince sat with a serious expression on his face to see what would follow; he was watching Natasha closely. The door opened, and Alyosha burst in.