LYDIA SHOUSTOVA'S HOME.
Nekhludoff awoke next morning feeling as if he had been guilty of some iniquity the day before. He began considering. He could not remember having done anything wrong; he had committed no evil act, but he had had evil thoughts. He had thought that all his present resolutions to marry Katusha and to give up his land were unachievable dreams; that he should be unable to bear it; that it was artificial, unnatural; and that he would have to go on living as he lived.
He had committed no evil action, but, what was far worse than an evil action, he had entertained evil thoughts whence all evil actions proceed. An evil action may not be repeated, and can be repented of; but evil thoughts generate all evil actions.
An evil action only smooths the path for other evil acts; evil thoughts uncontrollably drag one along that path.
When Nekhludoff repeated in his mind the thoughts of the day before, he was surprised that he could for a moment have believed these thoughts. However new and difficult that which he had decided to do might be, he knew that it was the only possible way of life for him now, and however easy and natural it might have been to return to his former state, he knew that state to be death.
Yesterday's temptation seemed like the feeling when one awakes from deep sleep, and, without feeling sleepy, wants to lie comfortably in bed a little longer, yet knows that it is time to rise and commence the glad and important work that awaits one.
On that, his last day in Petersburg, he went in the morning to the Vasilievski Ostrov to see Shoustova. Shoustova lived on the second floor, and having been shown the back stairs, Nekhludoff entered straight into the hot kitchen, which smelt strongly of food. An elderly woman, with turned-up sleeves, with an apron and spectacles, stood by the fire stirring something in a steaming pan.
"Whom do you want?" she asked severely, looking at him over her spectacles.
Before Nekhludoff had time to answer, an expression of fright and joy appeared on her face.
"Oh, Prince!" she exclaimed, wiping her hands on her apron. "But why have you come the back way? Our Benefactor! I am her mother. They have nearly killed my little girl. You have saved us," she said, catching hold of Nekhludoff's hand and trying to kiss it.
"I went to see you yesterday. My sister asked me to. She is here. This way, this way, please," said Shoustova's mother, as she led the way through a narrow door, and a dark passage, arranging her hair and pulling at her tucked-up skirt. "My sister's name is Kornilova. You must have heard of her," she added, stopping before a closed door. "She was mixed up in a political affair. An extremely clever woman!"
Shoustova's mother opened the door and showed Nekhludoff into a little room where on a sofa with a table before it sat a plump, short girl with fair hair that curled round her pale, round face, which was very like her mother's. She had a striped cotton blouse on.
Opposite her, in an armchair, leaning forward, so that he was nearly bent double, sat a young fellow with a slight, black beard and moustaches.
"Lydia, Prince Nekhludoff!" he said.
The pale girl jumped up, nervously pushing back a lock of hair behind her ear, and gazing at the newcomer with a frightened look in her large, grey eyes.
"So you are that dangerous woman whom Vera Doukhova wished me to intercede for?" Nekhludoff asked, with a smile.
"Yes, I am," said Lydia Shoustova, her broad, kind, child-like smile disclosing a row of beautiful teeth. "It was aunt who was so anxious to see you. Aunt!" she called out, in a pleasant, tender voice through a door.
"Your im*ment grieved Vera Doukhova very much," said Nekhludoff.
"Take a seat here, or better here," said Shoustova, pointing to the battered easy-chair from which the young man had just risen.
"My cousin, Zakharov," she said, noticing that Nekhludoff looked at the young man.
The young man greeted the visitor with a smile as kindly as Shoustova's, and when Nekhludoff sat down he brought himself another chair, and sat by his side. A fair-haired schoolboy of about 10 also came into the room and silently sat down on the window-sill.
"Vera Doukhova is a great friend of my aunt's, but I hardly know her," said Shoustova.
Then a woman with a very pleasant face, with a white blouse and leather belt, came in from the next room.
"How do you do? Thanks for coming," she began as soon as she had taken the place next Shoustova's on the sofa.
"Well, and how is Vera. You have seen her? How does she bear her fate?"
"She does not complain," said Nekhludoff. "She says she feels perfectly happy."'
"Ah, that's like Vera. I know her," said the aunt, smiling and shaking her head. "One must know her. She has a fine character. Everything for others; nothing for herself."
"No, she asked nothing for herself, but only seemed concerned about your niece. What seemed to trouble her most was, as she said, that your niece was im*ed for nothing."
"Yes, that's true," said the aunt. "It is a dreadful business. She suffered, in reality, because of me."
"Not at all, aunt. I should have taken the papers without you all the same."
"Allow me to know better," said the aunt. "You see," she went on to Nekhludoff, "it all happened because a certain person asked me to keep his papers for a time, and I, having no house at the time, brought them to her. And that very night the police searched her room and took her and the papers, and have kept her up to now, demanding that she should say from whom she had them."
"But I never told them," said Shoustova quickly, pulling nervously at a lock that was not even out of place.
"I never said you did" answered the aunt.
"If they took Mitin up it was certainly not through me," said Shoustova, blushing, and looking round uneasily.
"Don't speak about it, Lydia dear," said her mother.
"Why not? I should like to relate it," said Shoustova, no longer smiling nor pulling her lock, but twisting it round her finger and getting redder.
"Don't forget what happened yesterday when you began talking about it."
"Not at all---Leave me alone, mamma. I did not tell, I only kept quiet. When he examined me about Mitin and about aunt, I said nothing, and told him I would not answer."
"Then this--Petrov--"
"Petrov is a spy, a gendarme, and a blackguard," put in the aunt, to explain her niece's words to Nekhludoff.
"Then he began persuading," continued Shoustova, excitedly and hurriedly. "'Anything you tell me,' he said, 'can harm no one; on the contrary, if you tell me, we may be able to set free innocent people whom we may be uselessly tormenting.' Well, I still said I would not tell. Then he said, 'All right, don't tell, but do not deny what I am going to say.' And he named Mitin."
"Don't talk about it," said the aunt.
"Oh, aunt, don't interrupt," and she went on pulling the lock of hair and looking round. "And then, only fancy, the next day I hear--they let me know by knocking at the wall--that Mitin is arrested. Well, I think I have betrayed him, and this tormented me so--it tormented me so that I nearly went mad."
"And it turned out that it was not at all because of you he was taken up?"
"Yes, but I didn't know. I think, 'There, now, I have betrayed him.' I walk and walk up and down from wall to wall, and cannot help thinking. I think, 'I have betrayed him.' I lie down and cover myself up, and hear something whispering, 'Betrayed! betrayed Mitin! Mitin betrayed!' I know it is an hallucination, but cannot help listening. I wish to fall asleep, I cannot. I wish not to think, and cannot cease. That is terrible!" and as Shoustova spoke she got more and more excited, and twisted and untwisted the lock of hair round her finger.
"Lydia, dear, be calm," the mother said, touching her shoulder.
But Shoustova could not stop herself.
"It is all the more terrible--" she began again, but did not finish, and jumping up with a cry rushed out of the room.
Her mother turned to follow her.
"They ought to be hanged, the rascals!" said the schoolboy who was sitting on the window-sill.
"What's that?" said the mother.
"I only said--Oh, it's nothing," the schoolboy answered, and taking a cigarette that lay on the table, he began to smoke.
聂赫留朵夫早晨醒来的第一个感觉，就是昨天他做了一件卑劣的事。
他开始回想：卑劣的事没有做过，坏的行为也没有，但有过一些想法，一些坏的想法，那就是他现在的种种打算，例如同卡秋莎结婚，把土地一交一给农民等，都是不能实现的，都无法坚持，都脱离实际，都不自然，他应该象过去那样生活才是。
坏行为确实没有，但有比坏行为坏得多的东西。那就是引起种种坏行为的思想。坏行为可以不再重犯，并为此感到后悔，但坏思想却经常产生坏行为。
一种坏行为只能为其他坏行为开路；而坏思想却会拖着人顺着那条路一直往下滑。
早晨聂赫留朵夫在头脑里重一温一昨天的思想，不由得感到惊奇，他怎么会有那些想法，哪怕只有一刹那。不论他打算做的事是多么新奇，多么困难，他知道，这样行动是他现在唯一的出路。他知道，恢复原来的生活是多么轻而易举，但那是死路一条。他现在觉得，昨天的诱一惑好比一个睡过头的人，他已经不想再睡，却还要赖在一床一上，迷糊一会儿，虽然明明知道，他该起一床一去做那些等着他去做的重要而快乐的事。
今天是他在彼得堡逗留的最后一天。他一早就到瓦西里耶夫岛去看望舒斯托娃。
舒斯托娃住在二楼。聂赫留朵夫按照扫院子人的指点，找到后门，顺着陡直的楼梯上去，一脚踏进闷热的食物味道很浓的厨房。一个上了年纪的女人戴着眼镜，系着围裙，卷起袖子，站在炉子旁边，在一口热气腾腾的锅里搅拌什么东西。
“您找谁？”她从眼镜架上边瞅着来客，厉声问。
不等聂赫留朵夫报名，那女人脸上就现出惊喜一交一集的神色。
“哦，公爵！”那女人用围裙擦擦手，惊叫起来。“您怎么走后楼梯呀？您是我们的恩人！我就是她的母亲。本来他们会把我们的姑一娘一完全给毁掉的。您是我们的救星啊！”她说着抓住聂赫留朵夫的手，拚命吻着。“我昨天到您那儿去过。是我妹妹特意要我去的。她就在这里。您跟我来，这边走，这边走，”舒斯托娃的母亲说着，领聂赫留朵夫穿过一道狭门和一条黑暗的小过道，一路上放下掖起的衣襟，理理头发。“我妹妹叫柯尔尼洛娃，您大概听人说起过吧，”她在门口站住，轻声加了一句。“她被牵连到政治事件里去了。她是个非常聪明的女人。”
舒斯托娃的母亲打开一扇走廊门，把聂赫留朵夫领到一个小房间里。房间里放着一张桌子，桌子后面的长沙发上坐着一个身一体丰满、个儿不高的姑一娘一，身穿一件条纹布上衣，一头淡黄的鬈发围着一张苍白的圆脸，相貌很象她的母亲。她对面的单人沙发上坐着一个男青年，腰弯得很低，穿一件领子绣花的俄国式衬衫，嘴唇上和下巴上都留着黑色的一胡一子。他们两人谈得津津有味，直到聂赫留朵夫进门，才回过头来。
“丽达，聂赫留朵夫公爵来了，他就是……”
脸色苍白的姑一娘一紧张地跳起来，把一绺从耳朵后面披下来的头发撩回去，睁着她那双灰色的大眼睛瞪前来客。
“那么，你就是薇拉托我营救的那个危险女人吗？”聂赫留朵夫说，笑眯眯地向她伸出手来。
“是的，我就是，”丽达说，露出一排好看的牙齿，象孩子般善良地笑了一笑。“我姨一妈一很想见见您呢。姨一妈一！”她用婉转悦耳的声音对着门叫了一声。
“薇拉因为您被捕心里很难过，”聂赫留朵夫说。
“请坐，或者这儿坐舒服些，”丽达指着青年刚才坐过的那把破沙发说。“这是我的表哥扎哈罗夫，”她发觉聂赫留朵夫打量那青年的目光，说。
那青年也象丽达一样和善地微笑着，同客人握手问好。等聂赫留朵夫在位子上坐下，他就搬过窗口一把椅子，坐在旁边。从另一扇门里又进来一个浅黄头发的中学生，大约十六岁的样子，一声不响地坐到窗台上。
“薇拉是我姨一妈一的好朋友，可我简直不认识她，”丽达说。
这时从隔壁房间里进来一个女人，生有一张讨人喜欢的聪明的脸，身穿白色短上衣，腰里束一条皮带。
“您好，您特地跑到这儿来，真是太感谢了，”她在长沙发上挨着丽达坐下，说。“哦，我们的薇拉怎么样？您见到她了？她过得怎么样？”
“她不抱怨，”聂赫留朵夫说，“她说她的自我感觉好得不能再好了。”
“唉，我的薇拉，我了解她，”姨一妈一笑着摇摇头说。“应该了解她。她是一个了不起的人。一心一意为别人，从来不替自己着想。”
“是的，她自己什么要求也没有，她只为您的外甥女一操一心。
她说，她难过的主要是您的外甥女无缘无故被捕了。”
“确实是这样，”姨一妈一说，“这事真糟糕！说实在的，她是在为我受罪。”
“根本不是的，姨一妈一！”丽达说。“即使您没有托我，我也会保管那些文件的。”
“这事我可知道得比你更清楚，”姨一妈一说。“不瞒您说，”她又转身对聂赫留朵夫说，“这是因为有人托我暂时保管一些文件，我自己没有房子，就把那些文件送到她那儿。不料当天晚上就来搜查，那些文件和她都被带走了。她一直关到现在，他们一逼一她说出这些文件是从谁手里拿来的。”
“我始终没有讲出来，”丽达慌忙说，神经质地撩一下头发，虽然那绺头发并不碍她的事。
“我又没有说你讲出来，”姨一妈一反驳说。
“他们逮捕了米丁，那也不是我把他供出来的，”丽达说，脸涨得通红，心神不宁地向四下里打量着。
“这事你不用提了，丽达，”做母亲的说。
“为什么不用提，我偏要讲，”丽达说，已经收起笑容，但脸色还是通红，她不再撩头发，却把一绺头发缠在手指上，不住地往四下里张望。
“昨天你一提到这事，不是出了岔子吗？”
“根本没有……您不要管，姨一妈一。我什么也没有说，一直没吭声。他两次审我，问到姨一妈一，问到米丁，我什么也没有说。我还对他声明，我什么话也不回答。于是那个……彼得罗夫……”
“彼得罗夫是个暗探，是个宪兵，是个大混蛋，”姨一妈一插嘴给聂赫留朵夫解释说。
“于是他，”丽达慌慌张张地继续说，“他就来劝我。他说：‘不论您对我说什么，都不会损害什么人，正好相反……您要是说出来，那么，那些也许是被我们冤枉受罪的人就可以获得自一由。’哼，可我还是咬定不说。于是他就说：‘嗯，好吧，您不说就不说，但我说出来您也别否认。’于是他就举出一个个名字来，也提到了米丁。”
“啊，你别说了，”姨一妈一说。
“哎，姨一妈一，您别打岔……”她不断地拉扯她那绺头发，老是往四下里张望。“到了第二天，真是想不到，忽然有人敲墙头告诉我，米丁被捕了。唉，我想这是我把他出卖了。我难受极了，难受得简直都快疯了。”
“其实他被捕同你完全没有关系，”姨一妈一说。
“可我当时不知道。我还以为是我把他出卖了。我从这边墙跟前走到那边墙跟前，走过来，走过去，脑子静不下来。总以为是我把他出卖了。我躺下来睡觉，盖上被子，就听见有人在我耳边说：‘你把米丁出卖了，你把米丁出卖了，米丁是你出卖的。’我知道这是幻觉，可是又无法克制。我想睡，睡不着；我要不想，又办不到。哦，这真是可怕！”丽达越说越激动，把一绺头发缠在手指上，再把它松开，不住地往四下里张望。
“丽达，你安静一下吧！”母亲说着碰碰她的肩膀。
可是丽达已克制不住了。
“这种事可怕就可怕在……”她又开口说，但不等说完就哇地一声哭了。她从沙发上跳起来，衣服在圈椅上钩了一下，从房间里冲出去。母亲跟着她跑出去。
“把那些混蛋统统绞死！”坐在窗台上的中学生说。
“你说什么？”母亲问。
“我没说什么……我只是随便说说，”中学生回答，抓起桌上的一支香烟，点上火，吸了起来。
