“Something, so extraordinary, that nothing can be more wonderful,” he said. “Yesterday I remembered what sort of a tie that gentleman was wearing, and this night I was thinking and remembered his face.”
“Then who was it?”
“I'm afraid to say, your Honour; allow me not to speak: it's too strange and wonderful; I think I must have dreamt it or imagined it.…”
“Well, what have you imagined?”
“No, allow me not to speak. If I tell you, you'll condemn me.… Allow me to think, and I'll tell you to-morrow. Fearful!”
“Pshaw!” I began to get angry. “Why did you trouble me if you can't speak? Why did you come here?”
“I thought I would tell you, but now I'm afraid. No, your Honour, please let me go.… I'd better tell you to-morrow.… If I tell you, you'll get so angry that I'd sooner go to Siberia—you'll condemn me.…”
I got angry and ordered Kuz'ma[24] to be taken away. In the evening of that very day, in order not to lose time and to put an end to this tiresome “case about the murder,” I went to the guard-house and cheated Urbenin by telling him that Kuz'ma had named him as the murderer.
“I expected it,” Urbenin said with a wave of his hand. “It's all one to me.…”
Solitary confinement had greatly affected Urbenin's health; he had grown yellow and had lost almost half his weight. I promised him to order the guards to allow him to walk about the corridors in the day and even in the night.