“Well, not yet, and I must confess I have heard nothing of the sort, but what one can do with people, especially when they’ve been burnt out! Vox populi vox Dei. A stupid rumour is soon set going. But you really have nothing to be afraid of. From the legal point of view you are all right, and with your conscience also. For you didn’t want it done, did you? There’s no clue, nothing but the coincidence.… The only thing is Fedka may remember what you said that night at Kirillov’s (and what made you say it?) but that proves nothing and we shall stop Fedka’s mouth. I shall stop it to-day.…”
“And weren’t the bodies burnt at all?”
“Not a bit; that ruffian could not manage anything properly. But I am glad, anyway, that you are so calm … for though you are not in any way to blame, even in thought, but all the same.… And you must admit that all this settles your difficulties capitally: you are suddenly free and a widower and can marry a charming girl this minute with a lot of money, who is already yours, into the bargain. See what can be done by crude, simple coincidence—eh?”
“Are you threatening me, you fool?”
“Come, leave off, leave off! Here you are, calling me a fool, and what a tone to use! You ought to be glad, yet you … I rushed here on purpose to let you know in good time.… Besides, how could I threaten you? As if I cared for what I could get by threats! I want you to help from goodwill and not from fear. You are the light and the sun.… It’s I who am terribly afraid of you, not you of me! I am not Mavriky Nikolaevitch.… And only fancy, as I flew here in a racing droshky I saw Mavriky Nikolaevitch by the fence at the farthest corner of your garden … in his greatcoat, drenched through, he must have been sitting there all night! Queer goings on! How mad people can be!”
“Mavriky Nikolaevitch? Is that true?”
“Yes, yes. He is sitting by the garden fence. About three hundred paces from here, I think. I made haste to pass him, but he saw me. Didn’t you know? In that case I am glad I didn’t forget to tell you. A man like that is more dangerous than anyone if he happens to have a revolver about him, and then the night, the sleet, or natural irritability—for after all he is in a nice position, ha ha! What do you think? Why is he sitting there?”
“He is waiting for Lizaveta Nikolaevna, of course.”
“Well! Why should she go out to him? And … in such rain too … what a fool!”
“She is just going out to him!”