MR PROKHARCHIN

A STORY by Fyodor Dostoevsky Translated by David McD !! "#$%%

In the darkest and most modest corner of Ustinya Fyodorovna's apartment dwelling lived a man of advancing years, a decent-thinking teetotaller by the name of Semyon Ivanovich Prokharchin. s !r Prokharchin, who occ"pied only a minor position in the service, received a salary that was thoro"ghly commens"rate with his professional aptit"de, it wo"ld have been "nreasonable for Ustinya Fyodorovna to e#pect more from him than the five r"bles a month he paid her in rent. Some people even said that in this arrangement her own private considerations played a part$ b"t, as tho"gh to confo"nd all those who talked behind his back, !r Prokharchin became her favo"rite, this distinction being interpreted in a decent and hono"rable sense. It sho"ld be observed that Ustinya Fyodorovna, a most estimable and amply proportioned woman, who had an especial liking for fatty foods and coffee and who held o"t d"ring the fasts only with diffic"lty, maintained in her ho"sehold several lodgers who paid twice the rent she charged Semyon Ivanovich, yet being, every one of them, not of the %"iet sort b"t, on the contrary, 'wicked mockers' of her womanly endeavo"rs and defenceless isolation, they had s"nk very low in her esteem$ indeed, had it not been for the money they paid her in ret"rn for their lodging, not only wo"ld she have ref"sed to let them live in her apartment & she wo"ld not even have let them in the door. Semyon Ivanovich had been her favo"rite from the day a certain retired or perhaps, more acc"rately, dismissed individ"al with a partiality for strong drink had been carried off to 'olkovo (emetery. )ho"gh the dismissed and partial

gentleman had gone aro"nd with a permanent black eye received, in his own words, for bravery and had had the "se of only one leg, the other having been lost in some way also associated with bravery, he had nevertheless known how to win and take advantage of all the kind favo"rs of which Ustinya Fyodorovna had been capable, and wo"ld probably have contin"ed to live as her most faithf"l myrmi-don and hangeron for many years to come, had he not finally overind"lged his drinking habit in a most crass and lamentable manner. )his had happened back in Peski, at a time when Ustinya Fyodorovna had only had three lodgers, of whom, now that she had moved into a new apartment where everything was r"n on a grander scale and she took in appro#imately a do*en new lodgers, !r Prokharchin was the sole remaining one. +hether it was that !r Prokharchin possessed certain inherent deficiencies, or whether it was that each and every one of his. fellow boarders possessed them, things seemed not to go smoothly on either side right from the very start. ,et "s observe here that all Ustinya Fyodorovna's new lodgers got along together like brothers$ some of them worked in the same department$ on the first day of each month they all of them in t"rn lost their salaries to one another at banco, preference and billiards$ they liked to spend a happy ho"r all together in a throng, en-oying life's sparkling moments, as they p"t it$ they also sometimes liked to talk abo"t lofty matters, and altho"gh in the last instance things seldom passed off witho"t a disp"te, since pre-"dices were banished from the entire company, m"t"al agreement was on s"ch occasions invariably preserved. )he most noteworthy of the lodgers were !ark Ivanovich, a clever and well-read man$ then a tenant named .plevaniyev$ then one named Prepolo-venko, also a good, modest fellow$ then one /inovy Prokofyevich, who had made it his aim in life to enter high society$ then the copying-clerk .keanov, who had in his time nearly s"cceeded in wresting the palm of n"mber one and favo"rite from Semyon Ivanovich$ another clerk by the name of S"dbin$ the ra&noc'inets 0anta-rev$ and several others besides. Semyon Ivanovich did not, however, seem one of them. )o be s"re, no one wished him any harm, especially since they had all from the very o"tset rendered Prokharchin his d"e and had decided, in the words of !ark Ivanovich, that he, Prokharchin, was a good and self-effacing fellow, not a man of the world, b"t reliable and devoid of flattery$ a man not witho"t his deficiencies, of co"rse, b"t one who, if he ever s"ffered,

co"ld ascribe it to nothing other than his own deficiency of imagination. 1or was this all2 lacking in any imagination of his own, !r Prokharchin co"ld never have hoped to make a partic"larly advantageo"s impression on anyone by, for e#ample, his appearance or his manners 3a favo"rite target of those who are o"t to mock4, and yet his appearance did not co"nt against him, -"st as tho"gh everything were perfectly normal$ and indeed, !ark Ivanovich, being a clever man, cond"cted a formal defence of Semyon Ivanovich, declaring in grand and flowery terms that Prokharchin was a respectable old fellow who had long ago said farewell to the elegies of his yo"th. (onse%"ently, if Semyon Ivanovich was "nable to get along with the others, it m"st have been solely his own fa"lt. )he first thing that ca"ght their attention was, "n%"estionably, Semyon Ivanovich's stinginess and e#cessive thrift. )his was at once observed and taken note of, for Semyon Ivanovich wo"ld never "nder any circ"mstances or on whatever prete#t lend anyone his teapot even for the very shortest space of time$ and what made this all the more "nfair of him was that he himself very rarely drank tea, b"t when the need arose imbibed a rather pleasant inf"sion of wild flowers and certain medicinal grasses, of which he always kept a plentif"l s"pply. 5e also ate in a fashion that was completely different from the other lodgers. 1ever, for e#ample, wo"ld he permit himself to cons"me the whole of the dinner that was provided each day by Ustinya Fyodorovna for his fellow boarders. )he dinner cost half a r"ble$ Semyon Ivanovich spent only twenty-five copecks in copper and never any more than that, and so took either one helping of s'c'i or one helping of beef$ most often, however, he had neither s'c'i nor beef, b"t made do with a few slices of white bread garnished with onion, cottage cheese, pickled c"c"mber or other condiments, which was far less e#pensive, and only ret"rned to his half dinner when he co"ld stand s"ch fare no longer . . . 5ere the biographer m"st confess that not for anything in the world wo"ld he have taken it into his head to speak of s"ch base, "nworthy and positively embarrassing details, which some lovers of the noble style may even find offensive, were it not for the fact that these details ill"strate a partic"lar trait, a central feat"re in the character of the hero of this narrative$ for !r Prokharchin was far from being so poor that he co"ld not afford to eat reg"lar and ade%"ate meals, b"t acted in a way as to s"ggest the contrary, witho"t fear of disgrace or common gossip, and merely to satisfy his pec"liar

whims, o"t of miserliness and e#cessive ca"tion - a state of affairs that will become more clearly evident in what follows. +e shall, however, take care not to bore the reader with a description of all Semyon Ivanovich's caprices and shall not only omit, for e#ample, the c"rio"s and for the reader highly am"sing description of his mode of dress, b"t shall even, with the e#ception of Ustinya Fyodo-rovna's own testimony to the fact that it was so, refrain from mentioning that thro"gho"t his entire life Semyon Ivanovich co"ld not bring himself to send his linen to be washed or, if he ever co"ld, did it so rarely that in the intervals it wo"ld have been perfectly possible to forget the presence of linen on Semyon Ivanovich. From the landlady's testimony it appeared that 'Semyon Ivanovich, bless his so"l, poor lamb, festered away in that corner of his for twenty years, not that he had any shame, for d"ring all the days of his so-o"rn "pon earth he was a persistent stranger to socks, handkerchiefs and other s"ch things'$ aided by the decrepit"de of the folding screen, Ustinya Fyodorovna had act"ally seen with her own eyes that 'the poor dear sometimes had nothing to cover his white little body with'. 6"mo"rs of this kind went ro"nd after Semyon Ivanovich's death. 7"ring his lifetime, however 3and here lay one of the ma-or so"rces of dissension4, he co"ld not bear it if anyone, even on the most agreeable of comradely prete#ts, poked his in%"isitive nose into his corner "nasked, even if it were only beca"se the screen was so decrepit. 5e was a thoro"ghly intractable person, a man of few words who had no time for small talk. 5e was not fond of those who proffered advice, and was merciless towards "pstarts$ he wo"ld "pbraid those who mocked at him, tried to give him advice or p"sh themselves forward right there and then on the spot, p"t them to shame, and have done with it. '8o" are an insolent -ackanapes, yo" are an idle whistler, who are yo" to come offering me advice$ mind yo"r own b"siness, sir, yo"'re a -ackanapes and yo"'d do better to set yo"r own ho"se in order, that's what9' Semyon Ivanovich was a straightforward man, and he had absol"tely no %"alms abo"t addressing everyone with the 'tho"' form. 5e co"ld not end"re it, either, if anyone familiar with his habit"al ways began pestering him o"t of sheer mischief, asking him what he kept in his tr"nk . . . Semyon Ivanovich had a small tr"nk. It stood "nderneath his bed, and he g"arded it like the apple of his eye$ and altho"gh everyone knew that it really contained nothing apart from some old rags, two or three pairs of worn-o"t boots and a lot of ill-assorted r"bbish

and filth, !r Prokharchin attached a very high val"e to this property of his, and on one occasion was even heard to e#press dissatisfaction with the tr"nk's old, b"t fairly so"nd lock and to say that he was going to get another, of some special, :erman man"fact"re, with vario"s gadgets and a secret spring. +hen one day /inovy Prokofyevich, carried away by yo"thf"l cleverness, e#pressed the thoro"ghly v"lgar and indecent notion that Semyon Ivanovich was probably p"tting money away in his tr"nk and keeping it hidden in order to leave it to his descendants, everyone present was fairly st"nned by the e#traordinary conse%"ences of /inovy Prokofye-vich's improper action. For a start, !r Prokharchin had to think for a while before he co"ld find decent lang"age to describe s"ch a shameless and v"lgar idea. For a long time words deprived of all meaning po"red from his lips, and only grad"ally co"ld it be ascertained that, in the first instance, Semyon Ivanovich was "pbraiding /inovy Prokofyevich for some niggardly deed of his that had taken place a very long time ago$ then it co"ld be discerned that Semyon Ivanovich seemed to be predicting that /inovy Prokofyevich wo"ld never s"cceed in entering high society, and that the tailor to whom he owed money for his clothes wo"ld give him a hiding, nay, wo"ld certainly give him a hiding since the -ackanapes was taking s"ch a long time to pay "p, and that, finally, '8o" want to be a cadet in the h"ssars, yo" -ackanapes, b"t yo" won't make the grade, it won't work o"t the way yo" think it will, and when the administration gets to hear of it yo"'ll be demoted to the rank of common clerk$ that's what I'm telling yo", do yo" hear, yo" insolent -ackanapes;' fter that Semyon Ivanovich grew calmer, b"t, having lain down for five ho"rs, to everyone's e#treme astonishment he seemed to get a second wind and, first to himself, and then t"rning to /inovy Prokofyevich, began to "pbraid him again and p"t him to shame. <"t the matter did not end there, and in the evening, when !ark Ivanovich and the lodger Prepolovenko r"stled "p some tea and invited the copying-clerk .keanov to share it with them, Semyon Ivanovich left his bed and h"moro"sly -oined them, contrib"ting his fifteen or twenty copecks and, on the prete#t of having s"ddenly ac%"ired a thirst for a c"p of tea, began to e#patiate on the matter at great length, e#plaining that a poor man was simply that, a poor man and nothing more, and that as a poor man he had no means from which he might save. 5ere !r Prokharchin even confessed, solely beca"se the s"b-ect had come "p, that he, a poor man, had the day before yesterday asked /inovy

Prokofyevich, an insolent man, for the loan of a r"ble, b"t that now he wo"ld not accept the loan in case the cheeky brat sho"ld give himself airs, that that was the way it was, his salary was s"ch that he co"ld not even afford to feed himself$ and that, finally, 'as the poor man yo" see before yo"', he sent his sister-in-law in )ver the s"m of five r"bles every month, that if he did not do this his sister-in-law wo"ld die, and that if his dependent sister-in-law had died, he, Semyon Ivanovich, wo"ld long ago have bo"ght himself some new clothes . . . nd at s"ch length did Semyon Ivanovich e#patiate on the s"b-ect of the poor man, his r"bles and his sister-in-law, repeating the same thing over and over again in order to make the strongest possible impression on his listeners, that he finally lost his thread completely, fell silent, and only three days later, when no one was even thinking of picking on him and everyone had forgotten abo"t him, added in concl"sion something to the effect that when /inovy Prokofyevich got into the h"ssars he wo"ld have his leg c"t off in a war and be given a wooden one in its place, that /inovy Prokofyevich wo"ld come to him saying, ':ive me some bread, Semyon Ivanovich, there's a good man,' b"t that Semyon Ivanovich wo"ld ref"se to give /inovy Prokofyevich any bread, that he wo"ld not even look at the "ngovernable fellow and wo"ld tell him to go to the devil. ll this, as one might have s"pposed, aro"sed m"ch c"riosity and also a fearf"l amo"nt of hilarity. +itho"t wasting m"ch time abo"t it, all the landlady's paying g"ests -oined forces in order to p"rs"e the in%"iry f"rther and, o"t of nothing more than sheer in%"isitiveness, decided to converge on Semyon Ivanovich once and for all in a gang. nd since !r Prokharchin had, of late - that is to say, ever since the day he had moved in with them - also been very keen on finding o"t all abo"t them and asking them nosy %"estions, something he did for reasons that were do"btless private and his own, a m"t"al relationship was established between the two warring parties, one which re%"ired no preliminary effort, b"t seemed to come abo"t nat"rally and as if by chance. In order to establish s"ch relationships Semyon Ivanovich always had at the ready a special, rather c"nning and highly intricate manoe"vre of his own, which is in part already familiar to the reader2 he wo"ld leave his bed at aro"nd the time for evening tea and, if he saw the others gathering together anywhere in order to prepare the beverage, wo"ld go "p to them like a modest, intelligent and kindly sort of person, contrib"te his twenty copecks

and declare that he wished to -oin their company. t that point the yo"ng men wo"ld e#change winks and, having th"s signalled to one another their coll"sion against Semyon Ivanovich, wo"ld strike "p a conversation that was initially decoro"s and proper. )hen one of them wo"ld rather wittily begin, as tho"gh it were the most nat"ral thing in the world, to relate vario"s items of news, which nearly always contained fictitio"s and entirely improbable material. )h"s, for e#ample, he might say that someone had heard 5is =#cellency that day telling 7emid 'asilyevich that in his opinion married clerks were more reliable than single ones, and more s"itable for promotion as they were %"iet and had their aptit"des considerably enhanced by marriage, and for this reason he, the speaker, wishing to e#cel and to add to his stat"re, was striving to be "nited in wedlock as soon as possible with a certain Fevronya Prokofyevna. .r he might, for e#ample, say that it had more than once been observed of vario"s members of their fraternity that they were entirely lacking in good breeding and correct, pleasant manners, and were therefore "nlikely to have any appeal in the society of ladies, and that for this reason, in order to eradicate the said ab"se, a ded"ction sho"ld be made from their salaries forthwith, the corporate s"m thereby obtained to be "sed for the f"rbishing of a hall where they wo"ld be given dancing lessons and allowed to ac%"ire all the traits of nobility and good eti%"ette - politeness, consideration for their elders, strength of character, goodness and appreciativeness of heart, and vario"s pleasant airs and graces. .r again, he might say that there was a plan afoot to make some of the clerks, starting with the very oldest, sit some kind of e#amination in all s"b-ects, designed to improve their level of ed"cation, as a conse%"ence of which, the speaker wo"ld add, the sheep wo"ld be divided from the goats and several gentlemen wo"ld have to throw in their hands. In short, a tho"sand of the most abs"rd r"mo"rs belonging to one type or the other were e#po"nded. In order to s"stain the ill"sion, everyone immediately pretended to believe the story$ they wo"ld show great interest in it, ask %"estions, consider how it applied to themselves$ some of them, ass"ming mo"rnf"l e#pressions, wo"ld even begin to shake their heads and seek advice right, left and centre, as tho"gh to say2 what shall I do if I am fo"nd o"t; It need hardly be added that even a man far less gentle and good-nat"red than !r Prokharchin wo"ld have become conf"sed and entangled by s"ch a welter of r"mo"r. +hat is more, from all the evidence it may be concl"ded beyond

any do"bt that Semyon Ivanovich was entirely impervio"s to any idea "nfamiliar to his intelligence and that having, for e#ample, received some piece of news he was invariably compelled to chew it over and digest it, search for its meaning, in order at last, after a process of trial and error, to master it, in a thoro"ghly pec"liar way that was %"ite special to himself . . . )h"s it was that Semyon Ivanovich s"ddenly began to reveal a n"mber of c"rio"s %"alities which hitherto no one had s"spected he possessed. )alk and gossip ens"ed, and the whole affair event"ally fo"nd its way, with s"itable embellishments, to the office where the clerks p"rs"ed their labo"rs. )he effect was rendered all the more intense by the fact that !r Prokharchin, having looked more or less the same for as long as anyone co"ld remember, s"ddenly changed in physiognomy2 his feat"res became restless, his ga*e fearf"l, timid and slightly s"spicio"s$ he began to pace abo"t delicately, starting and pricking "p his ears and, to complete his newly ac%"ired %"alities, he developed a positively ferocio"s passion for the tr"th. In the end, he carried this love of tr"th so far that he even took the risky step of challenging 7emid 'asilyevich himself as to the pla"sibility of the tidings that reached his ears in their do*ens every day, and if we remain silent here abo"t the conse%"ences of this sing"lar action on the part of Semyon Ivanovich, it is for no reason other than a sincere concern for his rep"tation. In the light of this, it was decided he was a misanthrope with a disregard for the conventions of decent society. It was s"bse%"ently decided, too, that there was m"ch abo"t him that was fantastical, a perception in no way mistaken, as it was repeatedly observed that Semyon Ivanovich sometimes forgot himself completely2 sitting at his desk with his mo"th wide open and his pen raised in the air, looking as tho"gh he had fro*en or been t"rned to stone, he sooner resembled the shadow of a rational being than a rational being proper. It not infre%"ently happened that some innocendy gaping gentleman, having s"ddenly met his f"gitive, l"streless and %"esting ga*e, wo"ld be set all-a-tremble, lose his nerve and immediately insert into some high-priority doc"ment either a blot or some word that was of no priority at all. )he "nseemliness of Semyon Ivanovich's behavio"r embarrassed and offended people of a tr"ly righteo"s disposition . . . +hat finally dispelled all f"rther do"bts as to the fantastical nat"re of Semyon Ivanovich's mind was the arrival in the office one morning of a r"mo"r that !r Prokharchin had even given a fright to 7emid 'asilyevich himself,

for, "pon enco"ntering him in the corridor, he had acted so pec"liarly and strangely that he had compelled him to retreat . . . Finally, Semyon Ivanovich's misdemeano"r reached his own ears. ,earning of it, he at once stood "p, caref"lly made his way between the desks and chairs, attained the vestib"le, took his overcoat, p"t it on, went o"tside- and disappeared for an indefinite period of time. +hether he had taken fright, or whether he had acted "nder the prompting of some other infl"ence, we do not know & b"t for a time he was not to be fo"nd either at home or at the office ... +e shall not attempt to e#plain Semyon Ivanovich's fate simply as a res"lt of his fantastical disposition$ on the other hand, however, we cannot refrain from observing to the reader that o"r hero was an "nworldly and thoro"ghly s"bmissive individ"al, who "ntil the day he had -oined the company of his fellow boarders had lived in obsc"re, impenetrable solit"de, and had been disting"ished by his %"ietness and even a certain mysterio"sness$ for he had spent the whole of the time he had lived at Peski lying on his bed behind the screen, never saying a word and comm"nicating with no one. <oth of his former room-mates had lived in e#actly the same way as he2 they, too, were somewhat mysterio"s individ"als, and had also spent fifteen years lying behind their screens. In the patriarchal calm the happy, somnolent days had drifted by one after the other, and since everything aro"nd them had also followed a smooth and "neventf"l co"rse neither Semyon Ivanovich nor Ustinya Fyodorovna co"ld even remember e#actly when fate had bro"ght them together. '.h, it'll be ten years now, no, fifteen, no, twenty-five,' she wo"ld sometimes say to her new lodgers, 'since he settled down with me, poor lamb, bless his little so"l.' nd so it was perfectly nat"ral that the hero of o"r tale, "n"sed to company, had been most "npleasantly s"rprised when, -"st a year earlier, he had s"ddenly fo"nd himself, a staid and modest man, amidst a noisy, restless throng of a do*en yo"ng lads, his new room-mates and companions. Semyon Ivanovich's disappearance ca"sed no end of a stir in the corners. For a start, he was the favo"rite lodger$ then there was the fact that his passport, which had been in the landlady's safekeeping, proved at abo"t this time to have been accidentally mislaid. Ustinya Fyodorovna set "p a wail - a device to which she resorted at all times of crisis$ for two days she "pbraided her lodgers and heaped ab"se on them$ she wailed that they had driven her lodger away like a chicken, and that 'all those wicked mockers' had been the r"in of

him$ on the third day she shooed them all o"t of the ho"se and sent them off to find the f"gitive and bring him home at whatever cost, dead or alive. In the evening first copying-clerk S"dbin ret"rned to say that the trail had been fo"nd, that he had seen the f"gitive in )olk"chy !arket and other places, had followed him and stood near him b"t had not dared to speak to him, tho"gh he had even been a near bystander of his in a crowd of people watching a ho"se on fire in 0rivoy ,ane. 5alf an ho"r later .keanov and the ra&noc'( inets 0antarev appeared, and confirmed what S"dbin had said word for word2 they had also stood not far from Semyon Ivanovich, had passed close to him, only ten paces away from him, b"t they had not dared to talk to him either$ they both remarked that he had been in the company of a dr"nken beggar. Finally the other lodgers t"rned "p, too, and having heard the others o"t attentively, decided that Prokharchin co"ld not be far away and wo"ld soon show "p$ they said, however, that they had all known he was going aro"nd with a dr"nken beggar. )he dr"nken beggar was a thoro"ghly "npleasant character, "nr"ly and smoothtong"ed, and it seemed %"ite plain that Semyon Ivanovich had somehow been taken in by him. 5e had appeared, together with their m"t"al companion 6emnev, -"st a week before Semyon Ivanovich had gone missing, had stayed in the corners for a short while sponging off people, said he was s"ffering for the sake of tr"th, that previo"sly he had been a civil servant in the o"tlying districts, that an inspector general had had it in for them, that he and his companions had been given the sack -"st for telling the tr"th, that he had come to St Petersb"rg and fallen at the feet of Porfiry :rigoryevich, that following Porfiry :rigoryevich's intercession he had fo"nd a place in a certain office, b"t that, thro"gh the cr"ellest stroke of ill-fort"ne, he had been dismissed from that post too, as the office itself had been closed down as a res"lt of certain alterations$ that he had not been accepted into the new, revised staff of clerks, as m"ch on acco"nt of his sheer incompetence for the work involved as for his competence in relation to another, completely irrelevant matter - and, in addition, on acco"nt of his love of tr"th, and the machinations of his enemies. +hen he had finished this story, d"ring the narration of which !r /imoveykin several times kissed and embraced his s"rly and "nshaven friend 6emnev, he bowed to the feet of each of the people in the room in t"rn, not even forgetting vdotya the serving-maid, called them all his benefactors and e#plained that he was an

"nworthy, import"nate, base, "nr"ly and st"pid man, and that good people sho"ld not -"dge his miserable lot and simple nat"re too severely. 5aving th"s solicited the favo"r of his listeners, !r /imo-veykin revealed himself to be a -ovial fellow, became the so"l of cheerf"lness, kissed Ustinya Fyodorovna's hands, in spite of her modest protestations that her hands were common and not refined, and as the evening drew near promised to demonstrate his talent to the entire company in a remarkable danse caracteristi) e* .n the following day, however, his act concl"ded in a sad deno"ement. +hether it was that his dance had been -"st a shade too characterf"l, or whether it was that Ustinya Fyodorovna, to "se her own words, had felt he had disgraced her and made a fool of her, while she was 'friendly with 8aroslav Ilyich himself, and co"ld have, if she had wanted to, long ago become 'an ober-officer's wife' - whatever the reason was, /imoveykin had to clear off home. 5e had left, ret"rned again, been ignomino"sly t"rfed o"t a second time, then insin"ated himself into Semyon Ivanovich's attention and good graces, relieved him in passing of his new breeches and had now finally emerged as Semyon Ivanovich's tempter. s soon as the landlady was certain that Semyon Ivanovich was alive and well, and that there was now no need to go h"nting for his passport, she immediately stopped fretting and began to calm down. t the same time some of the lodgers decided to give the f"gitive a royal welcome2 they smashed the bolt and removed the screen from aro"nd the prodigal's bed, r"mpled "p the bedclothes a little, took the famo"s tr"nk and placed it at the foot of the bed, and in the bed itself they p"t an effigy of !r Prokharchin's sister-in-law made from one of the landlady's old shawls, a cap and a coat, an effigy so lifelike that anyone might easily have been deceived. +hen they had completed their work, they began to wait for Semyon Ivanovich to ret"rn, intending to tell him that his sister-in-law had arrived from )ver and had made herself at home behind his screen, poor woman. <"t they waited and waited . . . +hile they were waiting, !ark Ivanovich even managed to stake and lose half a month's salary to the lodgers Prepolovenko and 0antarev$ .keanov's nose grew red and swollen from their games of 'noses' and 'three leaves'$ vdotya the serving-maid had practically the e%"ivalent of a f"ll night's sleep and got "p twice to bring in firewood and light the stove$ and /inovy Prokofyevich, who kept dashing o"t into the yard every min"te or so to see if Semyon Ivanovich was coming,

got wet to the skin$ b"t still no one appeared - neither Semyon Ivanovich, nor the dr"nken beggar. t last they all went to bed, leaving the effigy of the sister-in-law behind !r Prokharchin's screen -"st in case he sho"ld t"rn "p$ and not "ntil fo"r o'clock in the morning was there a knock at the front door, so very lo"d that it thoro"ghly compensated the waiting residents for all the ard"o"s labo"rs they had "ndertaken. It was he, none other than the man himself, Semyon Ivanovich, !r Prokharchin, only in s"ch a condition that they all gasped o"t lo"d, and none of them even gave a tho"ght to the sister-in-law. )he prodigal had ret"rned "nconscio"s. 5e was bro"ght, or rather carried in by a soaked and shivering cabby, heaving him on his sho"lders. In response to the landlady's %"ery as to where the miserable fellow had dr"nk himself into s"ch a state, the cabby replied2 '5e isn't dr"nk, hasn't had a drop, I can tell yo" that for a fact$ he's probably fainted, or been hit by something, or maybe he's had a stroke.' )hey set abo"t e#amining the c"lprit, propping him "p against the stove for convenience, and saw that this was a case neither of dr"nkenness nor of stroke, b"t of some other disorder, for Semyon Ivanovich co"ld not move his tong"e, and seemed to be twitching in some kind of conv"lsions$ all he co"ld do was fi# a blank stare of bewilderment first on one, then on another of his noct"rnally attired spectators. )hen they began asking the cabby where he had picked !r Prokharchin "p. '+ell, he was with some fellows from 0olomna,' he replied. ')he devil knows who they were, not e#actly what yo" might call gentlemen, b"t cheery gents who were o"t having a good time$ he was like this when they gave him to me$ I don't know, maybe they'd had a fight, or maybe he'd been taken with some fit or other, :od knows what had happened$ b"t they were cheery, decent sort of gents9' Semyon Ivanovich was taken, lifted on to a pair or so of hefty sho"lders and carried to his bed. s he straightened himself o"t in it, he felt the effigy of his sister-in-law beside him and p"t his feet against his cherished tr"nk. 5e "ttered a shriek at the top of his voice, sat "p almost in a s%"atting position and, trembling and %"ivering all over, raked and cleared with his hands as m"ch space in his bed as he co"ld$ as he did so he s"rveyed those present with a flickering b"t strangely determined ga*e$ he seemed to be saying that he wo"ld rather die than yield to anyone so m"ch as a h"ndredth part of his meagre bo"nty . . . For two or three days Semyon Ivanovich lay tightly boarded in

behind his screen and th"s detached from the whole wide world and all its vain commotion. s might be e#pected, by the following morning everyone had forgotten abo"t him$ and meanwhile time flew by in its "s"al manner, ho"r followed ho"r and day followed day. +ith a head b"rning and made heavy by fever, the sick man lay in a state that was half dream and half deliri"m$ b"t he lay %"ietly, witho"t moaning or complaining$ indeed, he kept very still, made no so"nd and e#ercised restraint, flattening himself against his bed the way a hare cro"ches on the gro"nd in terror at the so"nd of the h"nt. From time to time a long, melancholy silence reigned in the apartment - a sign that all the lodgers had gone to work, and then Semyon Ivanovich, waking from sl"mber, co"ld relieve his ang"ished state of mind by listening to the noise in the kitchen close by, where the landlady was b"stling abo"t, or to the reg"lar slap of vdotya the serving-maid's worn-o"t shoes as she made her way thro"gh all the rooms, sighing and groaning, tidying, polishing and d"sting all the corners for the sake of order. In this fashion whole ho"rs went by, drowsy, indolent, sleepy, tedio"s ho"rs like the water that dripped evenly and resonantly from the bench into the washt"b in the kitchen. t last the lodgers wo"ld ret"rn, singly or in gro"ps, and Semyon Ivanovich wo"ld witho"t any diffic"lty at all hear them c"rsing the weather and saying how h"ngry they were, and then creating a h"bb"b as they smoked, wa#ed sociable with one another, played cards and rattled the c"ps as they got ready to have tea. Semyon Ivanovich made a mechanical effort to get "p and -oin them in his timehono"red manner for the preparation of the beverage, b"t immediately fell back asleep again and dreamed that he had already been sitting at the tea table for a long time, chatting and taking part in the conversation, and that /inovy Prokofyevich had taken advantage of the opport"nity to bring "p the %"estion of a certain pro-ect concerning sisters-in-law and the moral attit"de of certain good men towards them. 5ere Semyon Ivanovich had hastened to defend himself and make his d"e retort, b"t the imposingly formal phrase 'it has on several occasions been observed' which flew from every tong"e p"t an end to his ob-ections in no "ncertain manner, and Semyon Ivanovich co"ld think of nothing else b"t to start dreaming again that today was the first of the month and that he was being paid his silver r"bles in the office where he worked. .pening the envelope on the staircase, he took a %"ick look aro"nd him, h"rriedly co"nted off half of his rightf"l wages and hid the

money in his boot. )hen, still on the staircase and %"ite regardless of the fact that he was really doing all this in bed, asleep, he decided that when he got home he wo"ld immediately give his landlady the money he owed her for board and lodging, then to b"y a few items of necessity and demonstrate to those concerned, in a cas"al and seemingly "nintentional manner, that a ded"ction had been made from his salary, and that now he had nothing to send his sister-in-law - following this "p at once with a resolve to commiserate with his sister-in-law, to talk a great deal abo"t her the ne#t day and the day after that, and to all"de to her poverty again in ten days' time, so that his colleag"es sho"ld not forget. 5aving made this decision, he saw that ndrey 8efimovich, the short, eternally silent, bald little man who had a desk in the office three rooms along from the one where Semyon Ivanovich had his and who had not said a word to him for the past twenty years, was standing near him on the staircase, also co"nting his silver r"bles. '!oney9' ndrey 8efimovich said to him, with a shake of his head. 'If there's no money, there's no bacon,' he added grimly, going downstairs. In the doorway he said, by way of concl"sion2 'I have seven, sir.' 5ere the bald little man, who was also do"btless perfectly "naware that he was acting in the form of an apparition and not as a part of waking reality, lowered one hand to a point abo"t two and a half feet above the floor and, waving it in a descending line, m"mbled that the eldest was attending gymnasi"m$ then, giving Semyon Ivanovich an indignant glance, as tho"gh it were !r Prokharchin who was responsible for the fact that he 'had seven', ndrey 8efimovich p"lled his hat down over his eyes, gave his overcoat a shake, t"rned to the left and was gone. Semyon Ivanovich had received a considerable fright, and even tho"gh he was %"ite certain of his innocence with regard to the "nl"cky conc"rrence of seven children "nder the same roof, it did in the end seem to be the case that Semyon Ivanovich was in fact to blame. In s"dden fear he began to r"n, for the bald gentleman seemed to be coming back in order to catch him "p, with the intention of searching him and taking away all his salary, s"pporting his claim with reference to the inalienable n"mber seven and firmly re-ecting the considerations of any sisters-in-law Semyon Ivanovich might have. !r Prokharchin ran and ran, panting for breath . . . 6"nning alongside him were other clerks, in great n"mbers, and they were all -ingling their salaries in the rear pockets of their dress -ackets, which were short and far too tight$ in the end a whole mass of people came r"nning

"p, there was a tr"mpeting of fire-alarms, and great waves of h"manity swept him along on their sho"lders to the very fire he had witnessed together with the dr"nken beggar. )he dr"nkard & otherwise known as !r /imoveykin - proved to be already on the spot, greeted Semyon Ivanovich in a dreadf"l state of agitation, sei*ed him by the arm and led him into the very thick of the crowd. >"st as it had been before in waking reality, aro"nd them clamo"red and hooted a vast sea of people, which was dammed between the two bridges of the Fontanka =mbankment and took "p all the s"rro"nding streets and lanes as well$ -"st as before, Semyon Ivanovich and the dr"nkard were swept along behind some kind of fence, where they were held -ammed, as tho"gh in a pair of pincers, in an enormo"s wood-yard f"ll of spectators who had arrived from the streets, from )olk"chy !arket and from all the s"rro"nding ho"ses, inns and cafes. Semyon Ivanovich beheld it all as he had done before, and with the same emotions$ in the whirl of fever and deliri"m certain strange faces began to flicker before his eyes. 5e remembered some of them. .ne of them belonged to the very same gentleman who had prod"ced s"ch an impression on everyone, seven feet tall and with whiskers a co"ple of feet long, who d"ring the act"al fire had stood behind Semyon Ivanovich and had "rged him on when o"r hero, in the grip of something resembling ecstasy, had stamped his little feet as tho"gh in this manner to appla"d the work of the gallant fire brigade, of which he had an e#cellent view from his elevated vantage-point. nother was the face of the b"rly fellow from whom o"r hero had received a p"nch mas%"erading as a lift on to another fence, when he had nearly been abo"t to climb over the first one, possibly in order to save someone. 5e also glimpsed the form of the old man with the haemorrhoidal face who had been wearing a tattered, cotton-padded dressing-gown tied aro"nd the midriff with something or another, who before the onset of the fire had slipped o"t to the corner shop for r"sks and tobacco for his lodger and who was now, cl"tching a milk--"g and a %"art meas"re, fighting his way thro"gh the crowd to the ho"se where his wife, da"ghter and thirty and a half r"bles "nder the feather mattress in the corner were all going "p in flames. !ost clearly of all, however, he saw the poor, sinf"l woman of whom he had already dreamt more than once in the co"rse of his illness. She appeared to him now as she had done then, in bast shoes, holding a cr"tch, a wicker basket on her back, her clothes in tatters. She was sho"ting lo"der than the

firemen and the crowd, brandishing her cr"tch and waving her arms abo"t, telling everyone that her own children had t"rned her o"t and that she had lost two five-copeck pieces in the process. )he children and five copecks, five copecks and the children - the words sp"n ro"nd on her tong"e in an obsc"re, "nintelligible -abber, on which all had t"rned their backs after fr"itless efforts at comprehension$ b"t the woman wo"ld not %"ieten down, she kept sho"ting, wailing and flailing her arms abo"t, seeming to pay no attention either to the fire, to which she had been swept along by the crowd from the street, or to the rabble which s"rro"nded her on all sides, or to the misfort"ne of others, or even to the smo"ldering brands and sparks with which the bystanders were already beginning to be showered. Finally !r Prokharchin felt an attack of terror coming on$ for he co"ld clearly see that there was some hidden design behind all this, and that he was not going to get away "nscathed. nd indeed, there, not far away from him, clambering "p on to the woodpile was a m"*hik of some kind dressed in a torn, "nbelted cloth coat, his hair and beard both singed, who began to incite the whole vast crowd against Semyon Ivanovich. )he crowd grew denser and denser, the m"*hik contin"ed to sho"t and, rigid with horror, !r Prokharchin s"ddenly reali*ed that the m"*hik was a cabby whom, only five days earlier, he had cheated in the most inh"man manner, giving him the slip witho"t paying his fare, darting thro"gh a side entrance and kicking "p his heels as he ran as tho"gh he were fleeing across a red-hot stove. )he desperate !r Prokharchin tried to speak, to sho"t, b"t his voice had failed him. 5e felt the whole inf"riated crowd coiling aro"nd him like a m"lticolo"red snake, cr"shing him and choking him. 5e made one final, e#traordinary effort - and woke "p. )hen he saw that he was on fire, that his screens were on fire, that the whole apartment was on fire, together with Ustinya Fyodorovna and all her paying g"ests, that his bed, his pillow, his %"ilt, his tr"nk and, finally, his precio"s mattress - all were on fire. Semyon Ivanovich leapt "p, grabbed hold of his mattress and fled, dragging it after him. <"t when o"r hero entered the landlady's room, into which he had r"n e#actly as he was, witho"t a stitch of decency, barefoot and in his nightshirt, the lodgers intercepted him, pinioned his arms and carried him tri"mphantly back behind his screen, which, incidentally, had not ca"ght fire at all, the fire being rather inside Semyon Ivanovich's brain - and p"t him to bed. In -"st s"ch a fashion might a ragged, s"rly and "nshaven organ-grinder

p"t away in his travelling bo# his P"nchinello, who has ind"lged in brawls, battered and broken everyone else, sold his so"l to the devil and is at last ceasing his e#istence "ntil the ne#t performance, in the same bo# as the devil, the blackamoors, Petr"shka, !ademoiselle 0aterina and her l"cky lover, the district police captain. =veryone, yo"ng and old alike, immediately s"rro"nded Semyon Ivanovich, standing side by side aro"nd his bed and t"rning faces f"ll of e#pectation on the sick man. In the meantime he had recovered conscio"sness b"t, whether o"t of shame or for some other reason, s"ddenly began to p"ll the %"ilt over him with all his might, do"btless wishing to conceal himself beneath it from the attention of his commiserators. t last !ark Ivanovich broke the silence and, being a clever man, began to say very gently that Semyon Ivanovich m"st calm himself, that being ill was a shame and a disgrace, that only little children behaved this way, that he m"st get well again and then ret"rn to the office. !ark Ivanovich ro"nded off his remarks with a little -oke, saying that no fi#ed rate of salary had as yet been established for sick clerks, and since he was %"ite sec"re in the knowledge that their rank wo"ld be very lowly, in his opinion at least s"ch a profession or career wo"ld bring no great or material advantages. In a word, it was clear that everyone was taking a gen"ine interest in Semyon Ivanovich's fort"nes, and that they had the greatest of sympathy with him. +ith incomprehensible ch"rlishness, however, he contin"ed to lie on his bed, ref"sing to "tter a word and p"lling the %"ilt more and more st"bbornly over himself. <"t !ark Ivanovich wo"ld not admit defeat and, mastering his emotions, again said something very s"gary to Semyon Ivanovich, certain that this was how one was s"pposed to behave towards a man who was sick$ b"t Semyon Ivanovich wo"ld have none of it$ instead, he m"ttered something thro"gh his teeth with a most distr"stf"l look and s"ddenly began to s%"int s"llenly from right to left, apparently wishing to red"ce all his commiserators to ashes by his very ga*e. It was no good beating abo"t the b"sh$ !ark Ivanovich co"ld restrain himself no longer2 observing that the man had simply decided to be st"bborn, having taken "mbrage and lost his temper completely, he declared bl"ntly and witho"t any s"gary circ"mloc"tions now that it was time !r Prokharchin got "p, that he had lain there %"ite long eno"gh, that his constant sho"ting day and night abo"t fires, sisters-in-law, dr"nkards, locks, tr"nks and the devil only knew what else was st"pid, "nseemly and o"trageo"s, for if Semyon

Ivanovich did not want to sleep, others did, and wo"ld he please make a note of it. )his speech had its effect2 Semyon Ivanovich at once t"rned in the orator's direction, and said in a voice which, tho"gh steady, was none the less hoarse and feeble2 '8o" hold yo"r tong"e, -ackanapes9 8o"'re an idle chatterer, a fo"lmo"thed fellow9 :ot that, heel; )hink yo"'re a prince, eh; :ot it;' t the so"nd of s"ch words, !ark Ivanovich flared into a rage b"t, recollecting that he was dealing with a sick man, magnanimo"sly ref"sed to take offence and attempted instead to make !r Prokharchin feel ashamed of himself$ here, too, however, his efforts were c"t short, for Semyon Ivanovich immediately remarked that he wo"ld not permit !ark Ivanovich to trifle with him, for all that !ark Ivanovich wrote poetry. )here ens"ed a silence that lasted all of two min"tes$ at last recovering from his ama*ement, !ark Ivanovich plainly and clearly, with m"ch elo%"ence, tho"gh not witho"t firmness, declared that Semyon Ivanovich m"st bear in mind that he was among men of good breeding, and that 'dear sir, yo" m"st learn how to cond"ct yo"rself with persons of good breeding'. !ark Ivanovich was able on occasion to speak with an oratorical flo"rish, and liked to make an impression on his listeners. For his part, do"btless as a res"lt of his inveterate habit of keeping silent, Semyon Ivanovich spoke and acted in a rather more abr"pt manner$ moreover, when, for e#ample, he had occasion to embark "pon a long sentence, the f"rther into it he got, the more each word seemed to give rise to another word, which at once gave rise to a third, a third to a fo"rth and so on, so that his mo"th was st"ffed f"ll, a tickling began in his throat, and the st"ffed-in words at last came fl"ttering o"t in the most pict"res%"e disorder. It was for this reason that Semyon Ivanovich, tho"gh an intelligent man, sometimes spoke some fearf"l r"bbish. '8o" don't know what yo"'re talking abo"t,' he replied now. '8o" big h"lk, yo" waster9 >"st wait till yo"'re r"ined, and have to go begging$ yo"'re a free-thinker, a libertine$ that's what yo" are, poet9' '6eally, Semyon Ivanovich, I think yo" m"st still be raving9' '8o" listen to me,' Semyon Ivanovich replied. ' fool raves, a dr"nkard raves, a dog raves, b"t a wise man shows some sense. 8o" don't know what yo"'re abo"t, do yo" hear, yo" loose-living fellow, yo" intellect"al, yo" talk like a book9 .ne day yo"'ll catch fire and yo" won't even notice that yo"r head's b"rnt off. :ot it;'

'=r . . . I'm not s"re . . . +hat do yo" mean, Semyon Ivanovich; !y head b"rnt off . . .;' !ark Ivanovich did not p"rs"e his en%"iry, as everyone co"ld clearly see that Semyon Ivanovich had not yet recovered his senses and was still raving$ b"t the landlady co"ld restrain herself no longer, and said witho"t f"rther ado that the ho"se had b"rned down in 0rivoy ,ane the other day beca"se of a scatterbrained girl$ that there had been a scatter-brained girl living there$ that she had lit a candle and set fire to the storeroom$ b"t that s"ch a thing wo"ld not happen in her apartment, and that the corners wo"ld be safe. 'For heaven's sake, Semyon Ivanovich9' sho"ted /inovy Prokof-yevich, beside himself, interr"pting the landlady. 'Semyon Ivanovich, what on earth has got into yo", yo" silly, sick old man; 7on't yo" see that people have been making a fool of yo" with all these -okes abo"t yo"r sister-in-law and dancing e#ams; 7on't yo"; 7on't yo" see;' '8o" listen here,' replied o"r hero, raising himself from his bed, m"stering the last of his strength and venting every o"nce of spite and rage that was in him. '+ho's calling me a fool; 8o"'re a fool and a ho"nd, a fool of a man, b"t I won't provide foolery to yo"r orders, sir$ do yo" hear, yo" -ackanapes; I am no servant of yo"rs, sir9' 5ere Semyon Ivanovich tried to say something else, b"t fell back on his bed, all strength gone. 5is commiserators were left in a state of bewilderment. )hey all stood with mo"ths agape, for they now s"rmised what had happened to Semyon Ivanovich, b"t did not know what to do ne#t. S"ddenly the kitchen door gave a creak and opened, and the dr"nken friend - otherwise known as !r /imovey-kin - timidly poked his head ro"nd it, ca"tio"sly sniffing the lie of the land in his "s"al way. It was as if they had all been waiting for him$ everyone began to signal to him to come in as %"ickly as he co"ld, and /imoveykin, thoro"ghly delighted and witho"t removing his overcoat, p"shed his way h"rriedly thro"gh to Semyon Ivano-vich's bedside, ready to do his "tmost. /imoveykin had evidently stayed "p all the previo"s night engaged in some kind of ma-or e#ertion. )he right side of his face was covered in sticking plaster$ his swollen eyelids were caked with the matter that had r"n from his festering eyes$ his -acket and all his clothes were ripped and torn, and the entire left side of his apparel seemed, what was more, to have been sprayed with some thoro"ghly evil-

smelling s"bstance which might have been dirt from some p"ddle. Under his arm he was carrying someone's violin, which he was taking somewhere in order to sell. )hey had plainly not been mistaken in inviting him to help, for immediately, having si*ed "p the sit"ation, he t"rned to the delin%"ent Semyon Ivanovich and, with the air of a man in a s"perior position, who, moreover, knows a thing or two, said2 '+hat are yo" doing, Senka; :et "p9 +hat are yo" doing, wise man Prokharchin; Show a bit of sense9 I'll steal all yo"r money if yo" go on throwing yo"r weight aro"nd like this$ stop throwing yo"r weight aro"nd9' )his short b"t powerf"l speech astonished those present in the room$ they were all even more astonished when they observed that "pon seeing this person in front of him and hearing all that he had to say, !r Prokharchin was so flabbergasted, red"ced to s"ch a state of timidity and conf"sion that he co"ld only barely, thro"gh his teeth, m"tter in a whisper the inevitable e#pression of protest. ':et o"t of here, yo" miserable wretch, yo" thief9 7o yo" hear, have yo" got that; 8o" think yo"'re a reg"lar big shot, don't yo", yo" grand Pan-andr"m, yo" think yo"'re a reg"lar big shot9' '1o, old chap,' /imoveykin replied in a drawling voice, keeping all his wits abo"t him. ')hat's not very worthy of yo", Prokharchin, yo" wise old owl, yo" reg"lar Prokharchin of a man,' /imoveykin contin"ed, parodying Semyon Ivanovich slightly and looking abo"t him with satisfaction. 'Stop throwing yo"r weight aro"nd9 <ehave yo"rself, Senya, behave yo"rself or I'll report yo", my fine fellow, I'll tell them all abo"t yo" - got that;' It appeared that the message had got thro"gh to Semyon Ivanovich, for "pon hearing the concl"sion of this speech he gave a start and s"ddenly began to look all ro"nd him, swiftly and with a look of "tter desperation. Pleased with the effect he was having, !r /imoveykin prepared to contin"e, b"t !ark Ivanovich forestalled his ardo"r by waiting "ntil Semyon Ivanovich had %"ietened down, become more amenable and almost completely recovered his calm, and then began at length and in reasoned tones to impress "pon the "neasy man that to harbo"r the sort of tho"ghts that were now in his head was, for one thing, pointless, and for another, not only pointless b"t even harmf"l$ and indeed, for that matter, not so m"ch harmf"l as positively immoral$ the reason being that Semyon Ivanovich was leading them all astray and setting a bad e#ample. =veryone e#pected these words to prod"ce a sensible res"lt. +hat was more,

Semyon Ivanovich had now become %"ite peacef"l and was making only the most meas"red of protests. modest arg"ment began. )he lodgers addressed him in a brotherly sort of way, en%"iring as to why he had got the wind "p so badly. Semyon Ivanovich did make a reply, b"t in a rather ro"ndabo"t fashion. )hey remonstrated with him$ he remonstrated back. nother e#change of protests followed, and then everyone, yo"ng and old, -oined in the melee, for a s"b-ect of conversation so strange and startling s"ddenly cropped "p that no one really knew how to deal with it. )he arg"ment finally developed into e#pressions of impatience, impatience led to sho"ting, sho"ting led to tears, and at last !ark Ivanovich withdrew foaming at the mo"th and declaring that he had never met s"ch an arrantly st"bborn and single-minded individ"al in all his born days. .plevaniyev spat, .keanov took fright, /inovy Prokofyevich started to cry, and Ustinya Fyodorovna set "p one of her most impressive wails, howling that her lodger had 'gone and got bats in the "pper storey', that the poor lamb was going to die witho"t a passport, that he wasn't registered, that she was all alone and wo"ld be ha"led in by the police. In short, they all at last clearly saw that the sowing had been good, that all that had been sown had bro"ght forth an h"ndredfold, that the gro"nd was favo"red, and that in their company Semyon Ivanovich had s"cceeded in working his head off well and tr"ly, and in the most irrevocable manner. )hey all fell silent, for tho"gh they had seen that Semyon Ivanovich had got the wind "p, this time his commiserators had got the wind "p, too . . . 'For heaven's sake9' cried !ark Ivanovich. '+hat is it yo"'re afraid of; +hy have yo" lost yo"r wits; +ho cares anything abo"t yo", my good sir; 7o yo" think yo" have any right to be as scared as this; +ho are yo"; +hat are yo"; *ero, sir, a ro"nd pancake, that's all yo" are9 +hat's all yo"r f"ss abo"t; >"st beca"se a woman's been r"n over in the street, do yo" think yo"'re going to be r"n over, too; >"st beca"se some dr"nkard forgot to g"ard his pocket, do yo" think yo"r coat-tails are going to be c"t off; >"st beca"se a ho"se b"rns down, does yo"r head have to b"rn off, too; Is that it, sir; Is that it;' '8o", yo" - yo"'re st"pid9' Semyon Ivanovich m"ttered. '8o" co"ld have yo"r nose eaten off, b"t yo"'d eat it yo"rself with bread and never notice . . .' 'I freely admit that I'm a cad,' cried !ark Ivanovich, who was not really listening. 'I'm a caddish sort of fellow. <"t then, I don't have

to sit an e#amination, find a wife, or take dancing lessons$ the earth isn't opening "nder me, my dear sir. +hat's wrong, sir; Isn't there eno"gh room in the world for yo"; Is the floor giving way beneath yo"r feet, or something;' '+hat do yo" mean; +ho asked yo"; )hey'll close it down, and that will be the end of me.' '+hat; +hat will they close down; +hat are yo" driving at -eh;' ')hey dismissed the dr"nkard . . .' ' ll right, so they did$ b"t yo" and I aren't dr"nkards, we're men9' ' ll right, so we're men. <"t it's there today, and it'll be gone tomorrow . . .' ':one; +hat'll be gone;' ')he office . . . )he of-fice9' '<"t my dear, good fellow9 )he office is needed, it can't be done witho"t9 . . .' ')hat may be so, b"t yo" listen here2 it's needed today, it'll be needed tomorrow, b"t the day after tomorrow it won't be needed at all. 8o" see, I heard a story . . .' '<"t they pay yo" an ann"al salary9 8o"'re a )homas, a do"bting )homas, yo" man of little faith9 8o"'ll be given another position on acco"nt of yo"r senior rank . . .' 'Salary; <"t I'll spend it all, thieves will come and take my money$ and I've a sister-in-law, do yo" hear me; sister-in-law9 8o" and yo"r one-track mind9 . . .' '8o"r sister-in-law9 !y dear man, yo"'re . . .' 'I'm a man$ yes, I'm a man, b"t yo", yo" bookworm, are a st"pid nincompoop$ listen, one-track mind, yo" man of only one track, listen to this9 I'm not talking abo"t any of yo"r -okes$ b"t my -ob's the sort of -ob that's here today and gone tomorrow. =ven 7emid, do yo" hear, 7emid 'asilyevich says my -ob's for the chop . . .' '.h, 7emid, 7emid9 5e's a yo"ng rascal, and I mean . . .' '8es - bang9 >"st like that9 nd there's no -ob left$ and off I go to the devil '+ell yo"'re either talking nonsense or yo"'ve gone off yo"r head completely9 )ell "s straight, now2 which is it; (onfess, if that's what's the matter with yo"9 It's nothing to be ashamed of9 5ave yo" gone off yo"r head, sir, eh;' '5e's gone off his head9 5e's gone insane9' people sho"ted all aro"nd, and everyone wr"ng their hands in despair$ the landlady

had thrown both of her arms aro"nd !ark Ivanovich, for fear he might tear Semyon Ivanovich to pieces. '8o"'re a pagan, a pagan so"l, yo"'re a man of wisdom9' said !r /imoveykin, imploringly. 'Senya, yo"'re not a man to take offence, yo"'re pleasant and kind9 8o"'re simple, yo"'re virt"o"s . . . 7o yo" hear; ll this has come abo"t beca"se of yo"r goodness$ I mean, I'm -"st a st"pid, ro"gh sort of fellow, a beggar, really$ b"t yo"r good self hasn't abandoned me, not likely$ -"st see the hono"r yo" and yo"r friends have done me$ so here's thanks to yo" all, and to yo"r landlady$ look, I bow down to the gro"nd before yo"$ here, look$ it's my d"ty, I'm only f"lfilling my d"ty, dear lady9' 5ere /imoveykin act"ally did bow down to the gro"nd in a sweeping movement that incl"ded everyone, performing the action with a kind of pedantic dignity. fter it was over, Semyon Ivanovich wanted to carry on talking, b"t this time they wo"ld not let him$ they all intervened, imploring him, ass"ring him, consoling him, "ntil they had contrived to make Semyon Ivanovich feel thoro"ghly ashamed of himself and, at length, in a feeble voice he asked to be allowed to e#plain himself. 'It's like this,' he said. 'It's tr"e - I'm pleasant, gentle, and virt"o"s, do yo" hear, I'm devoted and loyal$ I'd sacrifice the last drop of my blood, yo" know - do yo" hear, -ackanapes, big shot ... all right, so the -ob's still there$ b"t I mean, I'm poor$ and if they take it away from me, do yo" hear, big shot - be %"iet now, and listen to this - if they take it away, it'll . . . it'll be there, brother, and then it won't be there . . .do yo" "nderstand; nd then I'll be off begging, brother, do yo" hear;' 'Senka9' /imoveykin wailed frantically, his voice drowning o"t all the h"bb"b that had arisen. '8o"'re a free-thinker9 I'll report yo"9 +hat are yo"; +ho are yo"; re yo" a common r"ffian, a thickhead with no brains; )hey'd dismiss a st"pid r"ffian witho"t notice, don't yo" reali*e that; +hat sort of a man are yo";' '+ell, it's -"st that '+hat;' '+ell, why don't yo" -"st go to the devil;' ':o to the devil;' '8es, well, he's a s"bversive, and I'm a s"bversive$ and if a man goes on lying in bed every day, event"ally . . .' '+hat;' '5e'll t"rn into a free-thinker . . .'

' free-think-er; Senka, yo"'re a free-thinker9' '+ait9' cried !r Prokharchin, waving his arm to s"bd"e the sho"ting that was abo"t to begin. 'I don't mean it that way . . . )ry to grasp this, grasp it, yo" sheep's head2 I'm well-behaved today, I'll be well-behaved tomorrow, b"t then s"ddenly I'll stop being well-behaved - I'll be r"de to someone$ they'll give yo" the b"ckle, and the free-thinker will get his marching orders9 . . .' '+hat's this yo"'re saying;' !ark Ivanovich th"ndered at last, leaping "p from the chair on which he had sat down in order to rest, and r"nning across to the bed in a state of "tter e#citement and fren*y, %"ivering all over with ve#ation and f"rio"s rage. '+hat are yo" saying; 8o" sheep9 8o"'ve neither ho"se nor home9 +hat, do yo" think yo"'re the only person in the world; 7o yo" think the world was made for yo"; +hat are yo" - some kind of 1apoleon; +hat are yo"; +ho are yo"; re yo" a 1apoleon, eh; re yo" a 1apoleon; nswer me, sir, are yo" a 1apoleon;' <"t !r Prokharchin made no reply to this %"estion. 1ot beca"se he was ashamed of being a 1apoleon, or afraid of taking s"ch a responsibility "pon himself- no, he was no longer capable either of arg"ing or of p"rs"ing the matter any f"rther . . . 5is illness was approaching its crisis. Small, fast tears s"ddenly streamed from his grey eyes, which glittered with a hectic light. +ith bony hands that were emaciated from illness he covered his b"rning face, raised himself on his bed and, sobbing, began to say that he was completely impoverished, that he was an "tterly ordinary, miserable man, that he was st"pid and ignorant, that people m"st forgive him, look after him, protect him, give him food and drink, not leave him in his calamity, and :od knows what else$ th"s did Semyon Ivanovich wail. s he did so, he looked aro"nd him in wild terror, as tho"gh at any moment he e#pected the ceiling to fall in or the floor to give way. s they looked at the sick man, everyone began to feel sorry for him, and their hearts softened towards him. Sobbing like a peasant woman, the landlady, too, wailed of her own lonely and defenceless plight, and helped the sick man back into bed with her own hands. !ark Ivanovich, perceiving the "selessness of dist"rbing the memory of 1apoleon, at once relapsed into good-nat"re and proceeded to offer his assistance, too. )he others, in order in their t"rn to have something to do, s"ggested an inf"sion of raspberry tea, claiming that it was instantly efficacio"s in all disorders, and that the sick man wo"ld find it most refreshing$ b"t /imoveykin immediately ref"ted

this, averring that in a case s"ch as the present one there was nothing better as a remedy than a certain type of p"ngent camomile. s for /inovy Prokofyevich, being a good-hearted fellow, he positively dissolved in tears, sobbing his repentance for having frightened Semyon Ivanovich with vario"s cock-and-b"ll stories and, latching on to the sick man's latest avowal that he was completely impoverished and to his re%"est that he be fed, began to organi*e a s"bvention which for the time being was to be limited to the residents of the corners. =veryone oh'd and ah'd, everyone felt sorry and distressed, while at the same time everyone wondered how the man co"ld have got himself into s"ch a state of panic. +hat co"ld he be so afraid of; )hey co"ld have "nderstood it if he had occ"pied an important position, had a wife and children to s"pport$ they co"ld have "nderstood it if it were a %"estion of him being ha"led before some trib"nal or other$ b"t the man was -"st r"bbish$ all he owned was a tr"nk with a :erman lock$ for more than twenty years he had lain behind his screen, never "ttering a word, knowing nothing of the world or its cares, hoarding his meagre salary, and now s"ddenly, all beca"se of someone's trivial, idle remark he had completely lost his wits with fear that life might s"ddenly become diffic"lt for him . . . nd it did not even seem to occ"r to the man that everyone fo"nd life diffic"lt9 'If he'd only taken that into acco"nt,' .keanov said later, 'the fact that life's diffic"lt for "s all, he'd have saved his sanity, stopped carrying on that way and somehow lived his life in a decent manner.' ll that day Semyon Ivanovich was the sole topic of conversation. People went to talk to him, asked abo"t him, comforted him$ b"t by the time it was evening no amo"nt of comforting wo"ld have done him any good. )he poor man started to hall"cinate and developed a fever$ he fell into an "nconscio"s st"por, and they nearly tho"ght of sending for a doctor$ the lodgers agreed on a co"rse of action and all promised to take t"rns at watching over Semyon Ivanovich and calming him, and if anything sho"ld happen, to waken the others at once. +ith this aim in mind, in order not to fall asleep, they sat down to play cards, having stationed by the sick man's bedside the dr"nken friend, who had now spent the entire day in the corners, and had asked to stay the night. Since the game was being played on credit and th"s afforded not the slightest interest, they soon grew tired of it. )hey abandoned it, then started to arg"e abo"t something, then began to make a noise and bang their fists, and finally dispersed to their separate corners, still contin"ing

to sho"t and disp"te angrily for a long time after that$ indeed, so e#ha"sted did their anger make them that they lost their resolve to sit "p on watch, and fell asleep instead. Soon it was silent in the corners as in an empty cellar, an effect intensified by the horrible cold. .ne of the last to fall asleep was .keanov. 'I wasn't s"re whether I was dreaming or awake,' he said afterwards, 'b"t it seemed to me that near me, -"st before dawn, I saw two men holding a conversation together.' .keanov said that he had recogni*ed /imo-veykin, that /imoveykin had woken his old friend 6emnev, and that they had talked for a long time in a whisper$ then /imoveykin had gone thro"gh into the kitchen, where he co"ld be heard trying to "nlock the door. )he landlady afterwards confirmed that the key to the door, which she "s"ally kept "nder her pillow, had gone missing that night. Finally, .keanov testified that he had heard both men go behind the screens to where the sick man lay, and had seen them light a candle there. 'I don't know any more than that,' he said, 'for my eyes fell sh"t.' 5e woke "p later along with all the others, when everyone in the corners s"ddenly leapt from their beds at the so"nd of a shriek from behind the screens that wo"ld have woken the dead - and it seemed to many of them that at that moment the candle had gone o"t. pandemoni"m ens"ed$ everyone's heart fro*e$ they r"shed pell-mell in the direction of the shriek, b"t at that moment from behind the screens came the so"nds of sc"ffling, sho"ting, c"rsing and fighting. Someone str"ck a light, and they saw /imoveykin and 6emnev fighting together, c"rsing and reb"king each other$ as the light fell on them, one of them sho"ted, 'It's not me, it's this bandit9' and the other, who t"rned o"t to be /imoveykin, sho"ted2 '7on't to"ch me, I haven't done anything, I swear it to yo"9' 1either of them looked like h"man beings$ b"t in that first moment no one paid any attention to them2 for the sick man was not in his previo"s position behind the screen. )hey wasted no time in separating the combatants and ha"ling them away, and saw that !r Prokharchin was lying "nderneath the bed, apparently %"ite "nconscio"s, having dragged his blanket and pillow with him, for all that remained on the bed itself was the bare, decrepit and greasy mattress 3he had never "sed sheets4. )hey ha"led Semyon Ivanovich o"t, stretched him on the mattress, b"t immediately saw that there was no need for m"ch f"rther concern over him, that he was "tterly done for$ his hands had gone rigid, and he was at his last gasp. )hey stood over him2 he was still sh"ddering and trembling all over, trying to do

something with his arms$ he artic"lated no so"nd, b"t winked in precisely the way a head, still warm and bleeding, having -"st bo"nced from the e#ec"tioner's a#e, is said to wink. t last everything grew %"ieter and %"ieter$ the death-tremors and conv"lsions died away$ !r Prokharchin stretched his legs and set off, for better or worse, into the "nknown. +hether Semyon Ivanovich had been frightened by something, whether he had had a dream of the kind described later by 6emnev, or whether something else had been to blame - all that remains "nclear$ all that is certain is that even if the chief e#ec"tor himself had entered the apartment and personally served notice on Semyon Ivanovich for freethinking, dr"nkenness and rowdy behavio"r, even if thro"gh the other door some shabby-coated beggarwoman bearing the appellation of Semyon Ivanovich's sister-in-law had made her appearance, even if Semyon Ivanovich had right there and then received a two-h"ndred-r"ble bon"s, or even if, finally, the ho"se had ca"ght fire and Semyon Ivanovich's head had beg"n to b"rn in earnest, it is "nlikely that he wo"ld have stirred a finger now at s"ch news. +hile everyone was getting over their initial st"nned s"rprise, while they were recovering their power of speech and la"nching themselves into an e#cited fl"rry of s"ggestions, do"bts and e#post"lations, while Ustinya Fyodorovna was dragging the tr"nk o"t from "nder the bed, hastily r"mmaging "nder Semyon Ivanovich's pillow, "nder his mattress and even inside his boots, while they were %"estioning 6emnev and /imoveykin, the lodger .keanov, who "p "ntil then had been the d"llest, meekest, and %"ietest of them all, s"ddenly ac%"ired some presence of mind, displayed his tr"e mettle, snatched "p his cap and, "nder cover of the general h"bb"b, slipped o"t of the apartment. )hen, -"st as the horrors of anarchy were reaching their c"lminatory phase in the hitherto peacef"l corners, the door opened and there s"ddenly appeared, like a bolt from the bl"e, first a gendeman of highly moral appearance with a stern and displeased e#pression, then 8aroslav Ilyich, followed by his retin"e of staff and f"nctionaries and, bringing "p the rear, an embarrassed !r .keanov. )he stern-looking gentleman went straight "p to Semyon Ivanovich, felt his p"lse, made a face, shr"gged his sho"lders and anno"nced what everyone knew already, namely that the deceased man had passed away, merely adding the comment that the same thing had happened only the other day to a certain important and highly respected gendeman who had also died s"ddenly in his sleep.

5ere the gentleman with the highly moral and displeased co"ntenance t"rned away from the bedside, saying that they had bothered him for nothing, and left. 5is place was immediately taken by 8aro-slav Ilyich 36emnev and /imoveykin having been delivered into the c"stody of the appropriate a"thorities4, who %"estioned some of the lodgers, deftly took possession of the tr"nk which the landlady was already trying to open, p"t !r Prokharchin's boots back where they had been before, remarking that they were f"ll of holes and of no f"rther "se whatever, re%"ested that the pillow be p"t back, s"mmoned .keanov, asked for the key to the tr"nk which was discovered to be in the pocket of the dr"nken friend, and solemnly, in front of the proper persons, "nlocked the personal estate of Semyon Ivanovich. It was all there2 two rags, one pair of socks, half a handkerchief, an old hat, several b"ttons, some old boot-soles and "ppers - in short, relics, remnants and ref"se$ in other words, r"bbish, remainders, rests and relicts, which had a f"sty smell$ the only thing of any val"e was the :erman lock. .keanov was s"mmoned and the matter sternly disc"ssed with him$ b"t .keanov was ready to swear an oath that he knew nothing. )hey asked to see the pillow, and e#amined it2 it was dirty, b"t was in all other respects a perfectly ordinary pillow. )hey set to work on the mattress, and were lifting it "p when they stopped to think for a moment or two$ then all of a s"dden, %"ite "ne#pectedly, something heavy fell with a resonant th"d on the floor. )hey bent down, searched abo"t and discovered a paper roll containing abo"t a do*en r"bles. ' ha9' 8aroslav Ilyich said, pointing to a tear in the mattress from which hair and st"ffing protr"ded. )hey e#amined the tear and ascertained that it had been made very recently with a knife, and was abo"t a foot long$ they felt inside it and p"lled o"t the landlady's kitchen knife, which someone had do"btless hidden in there after "sing it to slit the mattress. 8aroslav Ilyich had hardly had time to retrieve the knife from the tear and say ' ha9' again, when another roll of money fell o"t, followed by two fifty-copeck pieces, a twenty-five-copeck piece, some coins of small val"e and a large, old-style +yatak* )hey immediately picked these "p in their hands. )hey then reali*ed that it might not be a bad idea to c"t the mattress completely open with a pair of scissors. Scissors were re%"ested . . . !eanwhile the dying end of the tallow candle ill"minated a scene that wo"ld have aro"sed the in%"isitiveness of any onlooker. bo"t a do*en lodgers were gro"ped aro"nd the bed in the most pict"res%"e

garb, all "ncombed, "nshaved, "nwashed and sleepy-eyed, -"st as they had been on going to bed. Some of them were %"ite pale, others had sweaty foreheads$ some were shivering, while others looked as tho"gh they had fever. )he landlady, %"ite st"pefied, was standing %"ietly with her arms folded, awaiting the mercif"l attentions of 8aroslav Ilyich. From above, atop the stove, the heads of vdotya the serving-maid and the landlady's favo"rite cat looked down with frightened c"riosity$ scattered all aro"nd lay the torn and broken screen$ the open tr"nk displayed its ignoble contents$ the %"ilt and pillow, covered with bits of st"ffing from the mattress, lay carelessly in a heap$ and on the three-legged wooden table the grad"ally increasing mo"nd of silver and other coins shone and sparkled. Semyon Ivanovich alone preserved his cool-headedness, lay peacef"lly on the bed and seemed to have no inkling of his impending r"in. Indeed, when the scissors were bro"ght and 8aroslav Ilyich's assistant, wishing to make himself "sef"l, shook the mattress somewhat impatiently, so as the more conveniently to free it from the back of its owner, Semyon Ivanovich, being a polite so"l, first made a little room by shifting over on his side with his back to the searchers$ then, at a second -olt, he t"rned on his stomach, and finally made even more room$ b"t since the o"termost board of the bedstead was missing on that side, he s"ddenly pl"nged headlong to the floor, leaving only two thin, bony, bl"e legs e#posed to view, sticking "pright like two branches of a charred tree. Since this was the second time that morning that !r Prokharchin had popped "nder his bed, he immediately aro"sed s"spicion, and some of the tenants, led by /inovy Prokofyevich, crawled "nderneath it with the intention of finding o"t whether there was in fact something concealed there, too. <"t the searchers only s"cceeded in knocking their heads together for nothing, and since 8aroslav Ilyich sho"ted to them to e#tricate Semyon Ivanovich from his "ndignified position at once, two of the more sensible of them each took hold of one of his legs, ha"led the "nconventional capitalist o"t into the light of day and placed him across the bed. !eanwhile hair and cotton mattress st"ffing were flying everywhere, the pile of silver was growing - and, gracio"s9 what was there not to be fo"nd in it . . . 1oble silver r"ble sovereigns, rob"st and respectable one-and-a-half-r"ble crowns, pretty half-r"ble coins, plebeian twenty-five- and twenty-copeck pieces, even the "npromising c"rrency of old ladies, silver ten- and five-copeck bits - all done "p in the correct paper rolls, in the most

methodical and respectable order. )here were collector's items, too2 two tokens of some kind$ a na+oleon d,or- a coin whose origins were obsc"re b"t which was very rare . . . Some of the r"ble coins were of great anti%"ity$ there were worn and shaven coins from the reign of the =mpress =li*abeth, from the days of Peter the :reat, from (atherine's reign$ there were :erman kre"t*ers$ there were coins which are nowadays e#ceedingly rare - old fifteen-copeck pieces which had holes pierced in them so they co"ld be worn in the ears, all r"bbed completely smooth, b"t with the correct n"mber of serrations$ there were even coppers, b"t they were all green and tarnished . . . )hey fo"nd one red ten-r"ble note - b"t that was all. t last, when the dissection had been performed and when, having shaken the mattress-cover several times, they co"ld find nothing else that clinked, they placed all the money on the table and began to co"nt it. It wo"ld have been possible at first sight to be completely deceived, and to make a straight g"ess at a million - s"ch an enormo"s pile it was. <"t it was not a million, tho"gh it did prove to be a most considerable s"m - two tho"sand fo"r h"ndred and ninety seven r"bles and fifty copecks, to be precise$ and the s"bvention that had been organi*ed by /inovy Prokofyevich the day before wo"ld have bro"ght this "p to a ro"nd fig"re of no more than two and a half tho"sand. )hey gathered the money together, placed a seal on the dead man's tr"nk, heard o"t the landlady's complaints and told her when and where she sho"ld present her testimony with regard to the paltry s"m owed to her by the dead man. Signed statements were taken from the proper persons$ here the %"estion of the sister-in-law was almost broached$ b"t, having satisfied themselves that the sister-in-law was in a certain sense a myth, being a prod"ct of the lack of imagination with which they had more than once reproached the deceased in respect of his doc"ments - they dropped the idea as being "seless, likely to ca"se harm and to bring his, !r Prokharchin's, good name into disrep"te$ with this the matter was concl"ded. +hen, however, the initial shock had faded, when they had had time to regain their wits and had perceived what manner of man the deceased had been, they all grew %"iet and s"bd"ed and began to look at one another distr"stf"lly. Some of them took Semyon Ivanovich's action very m"ch to heart, and even seemed to take offence ... ll that capital9 )he man had fairly been p"tting it away9 1ever one to lose his presence of mind, !ark Ivanovich started to la"nch into an e#planation of why Semyon

Ivanovich had s"ddenly become so frightened$ b"t no one listened to him. /inovy Prokofyevich seemed very preocc"pied. .keanov had a drop or two to drink, the others h"ddled "p together, as it were, and when evening came the little clerk 0antarev, who was disting"ished by his nose, which resembled a sparrow's beak, moved o"t of the apartment, having thoro"ghly sealed and tied all his bo#es and b"ndles, coldly e#plaining to those who were c"rio"s that times were hard and that he co"ld not afford to contin"e lodging there. )he landlady howled witho"t cease, wailing and c"rsing Semyon Ivanovich for having taken advantage of her orphaned state. She asked !ark Ivanovich why the dead man had not taken his money to the bank. '5e was too simple, mother$ he didn't have eno"gh imagination to do that,' !ark Ivanovich replied. '8o"'re too simple, as well, mother,' .keanov inter-ected. 'For twenty years the man held o"t in that room of yo"rs, and then the merest p"sh knocked him down, b"t yo" had cabbage so"p on the boil and hadn't any time to see him . . . .h - mother9' ' ch, the poor lamb9' the landlady went on. '5e needn't even have "sed a bank, if he'd -"st bro"ght his handf"l of money to me and said to me2 ?5ere, my dearest Ustinya, here is all my wealth, keep me going with yo"r hot dinners "ntil the cold earth swallows me "p,? then I swear by the holy icon that I'd have tended him and given him food and drink. <"t oh, the sinner and deceiver that he was9 5e tricked and cheated an orphan woman9 . . .' gain they approached Semyon Ivanovich's bed. 1ow he lay in state, clad in his best and only s"it, hiding his stiff chin in a cravat that was tied a little awkwardly, washed, his hair combed and sleeked, b"t not %"ite smoothly shaven, as there was no ra*or to be fo"nd anywhere in the corners2 the only one there had been had belonged to /inovy Prokofyevich, had gone bl"nt a year earlier and had been sold at a profit on )olk"chy !arket$ the others went to the barber's to be shaved. )hey had not yet had time to clear "p the mess. )he broken screen still lay where it had done before and, in e#posing Semyon Ivanovich's solitariness, seemed like an emblem of the fact that death tears the veil from all o"r secrets, intrig"es and procrastinations. )he st"ffing from the mattress, which had not been cleared "p either, lay all aro"nd in thick masses. )he whole of this corner which had s"ddenly grown cold might well have been compared by a poet to the r"ined nest of a 'thrifty' swallow2 it had all

been broken and disfig"red by the storm, the fledglings and their mother killed, the warm little nest of down, feathers and strands of cotton blowing abo"t them in the wind ... )o e#tend the analogy in a different direction, however, Semyon Ivanovich sooner resembled a thievish and conceited old sparrow. 5e had piped down now, seemed to be lying low, as tho"gh it were not he that was to blame, as tho"gh it had not been he that had played tricks in order to cheat and d"pe good folk, witho"t shame or conscience, in the most indecent manner. 5e no longer heard the sobbing and wailing of his orphaned and deeply offended landlady. .n the contrary, like a hardened capitalist of long e#perience, who even in his coffin wo"ld not dream of wasting a single moment in inactivity, he seemed to be wholly immersed in some kind of spec"lative calc"lations. 5is face now wore an e#pression of profo"nd tho"ght, and his lips were p"rsed with a significant air, an air which d"ring his lifetime no one wo"ld ever have s"spected to be one of Semyon Ivanovich's characteristic %"alities. It was as if he had ac%"ired some cleverness. 5is right eye seemed to be screwed "p in a rascally sort of way$ Semyon Ivanovich seemed to be trying to say something, to comm"nicate something e#tremely "rgent, to e#plain himself witho"t delay, as %"ickly as possible, as b"siness was pressing and there was no time to lose . . . nd they seemed to hear him say2 '+hat are yo" going on abo"t; Stop it, do yo" hear, yo" st"pid woman9 7on't whimper9 :o and sleep it off, woman, do yo" hear; I'm dead now$ there's no need for all of that any more$ really, no need at all9 I like lying here . . . <"t that's not what I mean, do yo" hear$ yo"'re a big shot, a reg"lar big shot of a woman - so "nderstand this2 I may be dead now$ b"t, what I mean to say is, well, perhaps it isn't really so, perhaps I'm not dead at all, do yo" hear - so what if I were to get "p, do yo" hear, what wo"ld happen then, eh;'