Part 75

Paklin started.

“What? Haven’t managed it all this time! Well, never mind,” he added, “one can pretend a little. All the same, you will get married directly. There seems nothing else to be done! Take into consideration the fact that up until now Sipiagin has not persecuted you, which shows him to be a man capable of a certain amount of generosity. I see that you don’t like the expression—well, a certain amount of pride. Why should we not take advantage of it? Consider for yourself!”

Mariana raised her head and passed her hand through her hair.

“You can take advantage of whatever you like for Markelov, Mr. Paklin... or for yourself, but Alexai and I do not desire the protection or patronage of Mr. Sipiagin. We did not leave his house only to go knocking at his door as beggars. The pride and generosity of Mr. Sipiagin and his wife have nothing whatever to do with us!”

“Such sentiments are extremely praiseworthy,” Paklin replied (“How utterly crushed!” he thought to himself), “though, on the other hand, if you think of it.... However, I am ready to obey you. I will exert myself only on Markelov’s account, our good Markelov! I must say, however, that he is not his blood relation, but only related to him through his wife—whilst you——”

“Mr Paklin, I beg of you!”

“I’m sorry.... Only I can’t tell you how disappointing it is—Sipiagin is a very influential man.”

“Have you no fears for yourself?” Solomin asked.

Paklin drew himself up.

“There are moments when one must not think of oneself!” he said proudly. And he was thinking of himself all the while. Poor little man! he wanted to run away as fast as he could. On the strength of the service rendered him, Sipiagin might, if need be, speak a word in his favour. For he too—say what he would—was implicated, he had listened and had chattered a little himself.

“I don’t think your suggestion is a bad one,” Solomin observed at last, “although there is not much hope of success. At any rate there is no harm in trying.”

“Of course not. Supposing they pitch me out by the scruff of the neck, what harm will it do?”

“That won’t matter very much” (“Merci,” Paklin thought to himself). “What is the time?” Solomin asked. “Five o’clock. We mustn’t dawdle. You shall have the horses directly. Pavel!”

But instead of Pavel, Nejdanov appeared in the doorway. He staggered and steadied himself on the doorpost. He opened his mouth feebly, looked around with his glassy eyes, comprehending nothing. Paklin was the first to approach him.

“Aliosha!” he exclaimed, “don’t you know me?” Nejdanov stared at him, blinking slowly.

“Paklin?” he said at last.

“Yes, it is I. Aren’t you well?”

“No... I’m not well. But why are you here?”

“Why?”... But at this moment Mariana stealthily touched Paklin on the elbow. He turned around and saw that she was making signs to him. “Oh, yes!” he muttered. “Yes.... You see, Aliosha,” he added aloud, “I’ve come here upon a very important matter and must go away at once. Solomin will tell you all about it—and Mariana—Mariana Vikentievna. They both fully approve of what I am going to do. The thing concerns us all. No, no,” he put in hastily in response to a look and gesture from Mariana. “The thing concerns Markelov; our mutual friend Markelov; it concerns him alone. But I must say goodbye now. Every minute is precious. Goodbye, Aliosha.... We’ll see each other again sometime. Vassily Fedotitch, can you come with me to see about the horses?”

“Certainly. Mariana, I wanted to ask you to be firm, but that is not necessary. You’re a brick!”

“Yes, yes,” Paklin chimed in, “you are just like a Roman maiden in Cato’s time! Cato of Utica! We must be off, Vassily Fedotitch, come along!”

“There’s plenty of time,” Solomin observed with a faint smile. Nejdanov stood on one side to allow them room to pass out, but there was the same vacant expression in his eyes. After they had gone he took a step or two forward and sat down on a chair facing Mariana.

“Alexai,” she began, “everything has been found out. Markelov has been seized by the very peasants he was trying to better, and is now under arrest in this town, and so is the merchant with whom you dined once. I dare say the police will soon be here for us too. Paklin has gone to Sipiagin.”

“Why?” Nejdanov asked in a scarcely audible whisper. But there was a keen look in his eyes—his face assumed it’s habitual expression. The stupor had left him instantly.

“To try and find out if he would be willing to intercede.”

Nejdanov sat up straight.

“For us?”

“No, for Markelov. He wanted to ask him to intercede for us too... but I wouldn’t let him. Have I done well, Alexai?”