“Madman! You’ve killed him!” cried Ivan.
“Serve him right!” shouted Dmitri breathlessly. “If I haven’t killed him, I’ll come again and kill him. You can’t protect him!”
“Dmitri! Go away at once!” cried Alyosha commandingly.
“Alexey! You tell me. It’s only you I can believe; was she here just now, or not? I saw her myself creeping this way by the fence from the lane. I shouted, she ran away.”
“I swear she’s not been here, and no one expected her.”
“But I saw her.... So she must ... I’ll find out at once where she is.... Good‐by, Alexey! Not a word to Æsop about the money now. But go to Katerina Ivanovna at once and be sure to say, ‘He sends his compliments to you!’ Compliments, his compliments! Just compliments and farewell! Describe the scene to her.”
Meanwhile Ivan and Grigory had raised the old man and seated him in an arm‐chair. His face was covered with blood, but he was conscious and listened greedily to Dmitri’s cries. He was still fancying that Grushenka really was somewhere in the house. Dmitri looked at him with hatred as he went out.
“I don’t repent shedding your blood!” he cried. “Beware, old man, beware of your dream, for I have my dream, too. I curse you, and disown you altogether.”
He ran out of the room.
“She’s here. She must be here. Smerdyakov! Smerdyakov!” the old man wheezed, scarcely audibly, beckoning to him with his finger.