“Now think of that! A young man like you reminding me to keep to the point, as though I were some heedless boy! I must certainly be doting!… How do I seem to you in my degrading position? Tell me frankly.”
The young man was overcome with confusion, and said nothing.
“Allow me to ask you openly: have you not seen a lady? That is all that I have to ask you,” the gentleman in the raccoon coat said resolutely at last.
“Lady?”
“Yes, a lady.”
“Yes, I have seen … but I must say lots of them have passed….”
“Just so,” answered the mysterious gentleman, with a bitter smile. “I am muddled, I did not mean to ask that; excuse me, I meant to say, haven’t you seen a lady in a fox fur cape, in a dark velvet hood and a black veil?”
“No, I haven’t noticed one like that … no. I think I haven’t seen one.”
“Well, in that case, excuse me!”
The young man wanted to ask a question, but the gentleman in raccoon vanished again; again he left his patient listener in a state of stupefaction.
“Well, the devil take him!” thought the young man in the wadded overcoat, evidently troubled.
With annoyance he turned up his beaver collar, and began cautiously walking to and fro again before the gates of the house of many storeys. He was raging inwardly.
“Why doesn’t she come out?” he thought. “It will soon be eight o’clock.”
The town clock struck eight.
“Oh, devil take you!”
“Excuse me!…”
“Excuse me for speaking like that … but you came upon me so suddenly that you quite frightened me,” said the young man, frowning and apologising.
“Here I am again. I must strike you as tiresome and queer.”
“Be so good as to explain at once, without more ado; I don’t know what it is you want….”
“You are in a hurry. Do you see, I will tell you everything openly, without wasting words. It cannot be helped. Circumstances sometimes bring together people of very different characters…. But I see you are impatient, young man…. So here … though I really don’t know how to tell you: I am looking for a lady (I have made up my mind to tell you all about it). You see, I must know where that lady has gone. Who she is — I imagine there is no need for you to know her name, young man.”
“Well, well, what next?”
“What next? But what a tone you take with me! Excuse me, but perhaps I have offended you by calling you young man, but I had nothing … in short, if you are willing to do me a very great service, here it is: a lady — that is, I mean a gentlewoman of a very good family, of my acquaintance … I have been commissioned … I have no family, you see….”
“Oh!”
“Put yourself in my position, young man (ah, I’ve done it again; excuse me, I keep calling you young man). Every minute is precious…. Only fancy, that lady … but cannot you tell me who lives in this house?”
“But … lots of people live here.”
“Yes, that is, you are perfectly right,” answered the gentleman in raccoon, giving a slight laugh for the sake of good manners. “I feel I am rather muddled…. But why do you take that tone? You see, I admit frankly that I am muddled, and however haughty you are, you have seen enough of my humiliation to satisfy you…. I say a lady of honourable conduct, that is, of light tendencies — excuse me, I am so confused; it is as though I were speaking of literature — Paul de Kock is supposed to be of light tendencies, and all the trouble comes from him, you see….”
The young man looked compassionately at the gentleman in raccoon, who seemed in a hopeless muddle and pausing, stared at him with a meaningless smile and with a trembling hand for no apparent reason gripped the lappet of his wadded overcoat.
“You ask who lives here?” said the young man, stepping back a little.
“Yes; you told me lots of people live here.”
“Here … I know that Sofya Ostafyevna lives here, too,” the young man brought out in a low and even commiserating tone.
“There, you see, you see! You know something, young man?”
“I assure you I don’t, I know nothing … I judged from your troubled air….”
“I have just learned from the cook that she does come here; but you are on the wrong tack, that is, with Sofya Ostafyevna … she does not know her….”
“No? Oh … I beg your pardon, then….”
“I see this is of no interest to you, young man,” said the queer man, with bitter irony.
“Listen,” said the young man, hesitating. “I really don’t understand why you are in such a state, but tell me frankly, I suppose you are being deceived?” The young man smiled approvingly. “We shall understand one another, anyway,” he added, and his whole person loftily betrayed an inclination to make a half-bow.
“You crush me! But I frankly confess that is just it … but it happens to every one!… I am deeply touched by your sympathy. To be sure, among young men … though I am not young; but you know, habit, a bachelor life, among bachelors, we all know….”
“Oh, yes, we all know, we all know! But in what way can I be of assistance to you?”
“Why, look here: admitting a visit to Sofya Ostafyevna … though I don’t know for a fact where the lady has gone, I only know that she is in that house; but seeing you walking up and down, and I am walking up and down on the same side myself, I thought … you see, I am waiting for that lady … I know that she is there. I should like to meet her and explain to her how shocking and improper it is!… In fact, you understand me….”
“H’m! Well?”
“I am not acting for myself; don’t imagine it; it is another man’s wife! Her husband is standing over there on the Voznesensky Bridge; he wants to catch her, but he doesn’t dare; he is still loath to believe it, as every husband is.” (Here the gentleman in raccoon made an effort to smile.) “I am a friend of his; you can see for yourself I am a person held in some esteem; I could not be what you take me for.”
“Oh, of course. Well, well!”
“So, you see, I am on the look out for her. The task has been entrusted to me (the unhappy husband!). But I know that the young lady is sly (Paul de Kock for ever under her pillow); I am certain she scurries off somewhere on the sly…. I must confess the cook told me she comes here; I rushed off like a madman as soon as I heard the news; I want to catch her. I have long had suspicions, and so I wanted to ask you; you are walking here … you — you — I don’t know….”
“Come, what is it you want?”
“Yes … I have not the honour of your acquaintance; I do not venture to inquire who and what you may be…. Allow me to introduce myself, anyway; glad to meet you!…”
The gentleman, quivering with agitation, warmly shook the young man’s hand.
“I ought to have done this to begin with,” he added, “but I have lost all sense of good manners.”
The gentleman in raccoon could not stand still as he talked; he kept looking about him uneasily, fidgeted with his feet, and like a drowning man clutched at the young man’s hand.
“You see,” he went on, “I meant to address you in a friendly way…. Excuse the freedom…. I meant to ask you to walk along the other side and down the side street, where there is a back entrance. I, too, on my side, will walk from the