She went away.He remained waiting in the entry.Madame Hohlakov herself was already in her bedroom, though not yet asleep.She had felt upset ever since Mitya's visit, and had a presentiment that she would not get through the night without the sick headache which always, with her, followed such excitement.She was surprised on hearing the announcement from the maid.She irritably declined to see him, however, though the unexpected visit at such an hour, of an "official living in the town," who was a total stranger, roused her feminine curiosity intensely.But this time Pyotr Ilyitch was as obstinate as a mule.He begged the maid most earnestly to take another message in these very words:
"That he had come on business of the greatest importance, and that Madame Hohlakov might have cause to regret it later, if she refused to see him now.""I plunged headlong," he described it afterwards.
The maid, gazing at him in amazement, went to take his message again.Madame Hohlakov was impressed.She thought a little, asked what he looked like, and learned that he was very well dressed, young, and so polite." We may note, parenthetically, that Pyotr Ilyitch was a rather good-looking young man, and well aware of the fact.Madame Hohlakov made up her mind to see him.She was in her dressing-gown and slippers, but she flung a black shawl over her shoulders."The official" was asked to walk into the drawing-room, the very room in which Mitya had been received shortly before.The lady came to meet her visitor, with a sternly inquiring countenance, and, without asking him to sit down, began at once with the question:
"What do you want?"
"I have ventured to disturb you, madam, on a matter concerning our common acquaintance, Dmitri Fyodorovitch Karamazov," Perhotin began.
But he had hardly uttered the name, when the lady's face showed signs of acute irritation.She almost shrieked, and interrupted him in a fury:
"How much longer am I to be worried by that awful man?" she cried hysterically."How dare you, sir, how could you venture to disturb a lady who is a stranger to you, in her own house at such an hour!...And to force yourself upon her to talk of a man who came here, to this very drawing-room, only three hours ago, to murder me, and went stamping out of the room, as no one would go out of a decent house.Let me tell you, sir, that I shall lodge a complaint against you, that I will not let it pass.Kindly leave me at once...Iam a mother....I...I-"
"Murder! then he tried to murder you, too?""Why, has he killed somebody else?" Madame Hohlakov asked impulsively.
"If you would kindly listen, madam, for half a moment, I'll explain it all in a couple of words," answered Perhotin, firmly."At five o'clock this afternoon Dmitri Fyodorovitch borrowed ten roubles from me, and I know for a fact he had no money.Yet at nine o'clock, he came to see me with a bundle of hundred-rouble notes in his hand, about two or three thousand roubles.His hands and face were all covered with blood, and he looked like a madman.When I asked him where he had got so much money, he answered that he had just received it from you, that you had given him a sum of three thousand to go to the gold mines..."Madame Hohlakov's face assumed an expression of intense and painful excitement.
"Good God! He must have killed his old father!" she cried, clasping her hands."I have never given him money, never! Oh, run, run!...Don't say another word Save the old man...run to his father...run!""Excuse me, madam, then you did not give him money? You remember for a fact that you did not give him any money?""No, I didn't, I didn't! I refused to give it him, for he could not appreciate it.He ran out in a fury, stamping.He rushed at me, but I slipped away....And let me tell you, as I wish to hide nothing from you now, that he positively spat at me.Can you fancy that! But why are we standing? Ah, sit down.""Excuse me, I..."
"Or better run, run, you must run and save the poor old man from an awful death!""But if he has killed him already?"
"Ah, good heavens, yes! Then what are we to do now? What do you think we must do now?"Meantime she had made Pyotr Ilyitch sit down and sat down herself, facing him briefly, but fairly clearly, Pyotr Ilyitch told her the history of the affair, that part of it at least which he had himself witnessed.He described, too, his visit to Fenya, and told her about the pestle.All these details produced an overwhelming effect on the distracted lady, who kept uttering shrieks, and covering her face with her hands...
"Would you believe it, I foresaw all this! I have that special faculty, whatever I imagine comes to pass.And how often I've looked at that awful man and always thought, that man will end by murdering me.And now it's happened...that is, if he hasn't murdered me, but only his own father, it's only because the finger of God preserved me, and what's more, he was ashamed to murder me because, in this very place, I put the holy ikon from the relics of the holy martyr, Saint Varvara, on his neck....And to think how near I was to death at that minute I went close up to him and he stretched out his neck to me!...Do you know, Pyotr Ilyitch (I think you said your name was Pyotr Ilyitch), I don't believe in miracles, but that ikon and this unmistakable miracle with me now- that shakes me, and I'm ready to believe in anything you like.Have you heard about Father Zossima?...But I don't know what I'm saying...and only fancy, with the ikon on his neck he spat at me....He only spat, it's true, he didn't murder me and...he dashed away! But what shall we do, what must we do now? What do you think?"Pyotr Ilyitch got up, and announced that he was going straight to the police captain, to tell him all about it, and leave him to do what he thought fit.