"Oh, he's an excellent man, excellent! Mihail Makarovitch, Iknow him.Of course, he's the person to go to.How practical you are, Pyotr Ilyitch! How well you've thought of everything! I should never have thought of it in your place!""Especially as I know the police captain very well, too," observed Pyotr Ilyitch, who still continued to stand, and was obviously anxious to escape as quickly as possible from the impulsive lady, who would not let him say good-bye and go away.
"And be sure, be sure," she prattled on, "to come back and tell me what you see there, and what you find out...what comes to light...
how they'll try him...and what he's condemned to....Tell me, we have no capital punishment, have we? But be sure to come, even if it's at three o'clock at night, at four, at half-past four....Tell them to wake me, to wake me, to shake me, if I don't get up....But, good heavens, I shan't sleep! But wait, hadn't I better come with you?""N-no.But if you would write three lines with your own hand, stating that you did not give Dmitri Fyodorovitch money, it might, perhaps, be of use...in case it's needed...""To be sure!" Madame Hohlakov skipped, delighted, to her bureau.
"And you know I'm simply struck, amazed at your resourcefulness, your good sense in such affairs.Are you in the service here? I'm delighted to think that you're in the service here!"And still speaking, she scribbled on half a sheet of notepaper the following lines:
I've never in my life lent to that unhappy man, Dmitri Fyodorovitch Karamazov (for, in spite of all, he is unhappy), three thousand roubles to-day.I've never given him money, never: That Iswear by all thats holy!
K.Hohlakov"Here's the note!" she turned quickly to Pyotr Ilyitch."Go, save him.It's a noble deed on your part!"And she made the sign of the cross three times over him.She ran out to accompany him to the passage.
"How grateful I am to you! You can't think how grateful I am to you for having come to me, first.How is it I haven't met you before? I shall feel flattered at seeing you at my house in the future.How delightful it is that you are living here!...Such precision! Such practical ability!...They must appreciate you, they must understand you.If there's anything I can do, believe me...oh, Ilove young people! I'm in love with young people! The younger generation are the one prop of our suffering country.Her one hope....
Oh, go, go!..."
But Pyotr Ilyitch had already run away or she would not have let him go so soon.Yet Madame Hohlakov had made a rather agreeable impression on him, which had somewhat softened his anxiety at being drawn into such an unpleasant affair.Tastes differ, as we all know.
"She's by no means so elderly," he thought, feeling pleased, "on the contrary I should have taken her for her daughter."As for Madame Hohlakov, she was simply enchanted by the young man.
"Such sence such exactness! in so young a man! in our day! and all that with such manners and appearance! People say the young people of to-day are no good for anything, but here's an example!" etc.So she simply forgot this "dreadful affair," and it was only as she was getting into bed, that, suddenly recalling "how near death she had been," she exclaimed: "Ah, it is awful, awful!"But she fell at once into a sound, sweet sleep.
I would not, however, have dwelt on such trivial and irrelevant details, if this eccentric meeting of the young official with the by no means elderly widow had not subsequently turned out to be the foundation of the whole career of that practical and precise young man.His story is remembered to this day with amazement in our town, and I shall perhaps have something to say about it, when I have finished my long history of the Brothers Karamazov.
Chapter 2
The AlarmOUR police captain, Mihail Makarovitch Makarov, a retired lieutenant-colonel, was a widower and an excellent man.He had only come to us three years previously, but had won general esteem, chiefly because he "knew how to keep society together." He was never without visitors, and could not have got on without them.Someone or other was always dining with him; he never sat down to table without guests.
He gave regular dinners, too, on all sorts of occasions, sometimes most surprising ones.Though the fare was not recherche, it was abundant.The fish-pies were excellent, and the wine made up in quantity for what it lacked in quality.
The first room his guests entered was a well fitted billiard-room, with pictures of English race horses, in black frames on the walls, an essential decoration, as we all know, for a bachelor's billiard-room.There was card playing every evening at his house, if only at one table.But at frequent intervals, all the society of our town, with the mammas and young ladies, assembled at his house to dance.Mihail Makarovitch was a widower, he did not live alone.His widowed daughter lived with him, with her two unmarried daughters, grown-up girls, who had finished their education.They were of agreeable appearance and lively character, and though everyone knew they would have no dowry, they attracted all the young men of fashion to their grandfather's house.
Mihail Makarovitch was by no means very efficient in his work, though he performed his duties no worse than many others.To speak plainly, he was a man of rather narrow education.His understanding of the limits of his administrative power could not always be relied upon.It was not so much that he failed to grasp certain reforms enacted during the present reign, as that he made conspicuous blunders in his interpretation of them.This was not from any special lack of intelligence, but from carelessness, for he was always in to great a hurry to go into the subject.
