Федор Достоевский
Uncle's Dream; and The Permanent Husband
CHAPTER X
On they flew.
I have said already that this very day, on her first drive after the prince, Maria Alexandrovna had been inspired with a great idea! and I promised to reveal this idea in its proper place. But I am sure the reader has guessed it already! – It was, to “confiscate” the prince in her turn, and carry him off to the village where, at this moment, her husband Afanassy Matveyevitch vegetated alone.
I must admit that our heroine was growing more and more anxious as the day went on; but this is often the case with heroes of all kinds, just before they attain their great ends! Some such instinct whispered to her that it was not safe to remain in Mordasoff another hour, if it could be avoided; – but once in the country house, the whole town might go mad and stand on its head, for all she cared!
Of course she must not lose time, even there! All sorts of things might happen – even the police might interfere. (Reader, I shall never believe, for my part, that my heroine really had the slightest fear of the vulgar police force; but as it has been rumoured in Mordasoff that at this moment such a thought did pass through her brain, why, I must record the fact.)
In a word she saw clearly that Zina's marriage with the prince must be brought about at once, without delay! It was easily done: the priest at the village should perform the ceremony; why not the day after to-morrow? or indeed, in case of need, to-morrow? Marriages had often been brought about in less time than this – in two hours, she had heard! It would be easy enough to persuade the prince that haste and simplicity would be in far better taste than all the usual pomps and vanities of common everyday weddings. In fact, she relied upon her skill in putting the matter to the old man as a fitting dramatic issue to a romantic story of love, and thus to touch the most sensitive string of his chivalrous heart.
In case of absolute need there was always the possibility of making him drunk, or rather of keeping him perpetually drunk. And then, come what might, Zina would be a princess! And if this marriage were fated to produce scandal among the prince's relations and friends in St. Petersburg and Moscow, Maria Alexandrovna comforted herself with the reflection that marriages in high life nearly always were productive of scandal; and that such a result might fairly be looked upon as “good form,” and as peculiar to aristocratic circles.
Besides, she felt sure that Zina need only show herself in society, with her mamma to support her, and every one of all those countesses and princes should very soon either acknowledge her of their own accord, or yield to the head-washing that Maria Alexandrovna felt herself so competent to give to any or all of them, individually or collectively.
It was in consequence of these reflections that Maria Alexandrovna was now hastening with all speed towards her village, in order to bring back Afanassy Matveyevitch, whose presence she considered absolutely necessary at this crisis. It was desirable that her husband should appear and invite the prince down to the country: she relied upon the appearance of the father of the family, in dress-coat and white tie, hastening up to town on the first rumours of the prince's arrival there, to produce a very favourable impression upon the old man's self-respect: it would flatter him; and after such a courteous action, followed by a polite and warmly-couched invitation to the country, the prince would hardly refuse to go.
At last the carriage stopped at the door of a long low wooden house, surrounded by old lime trees. This was the country house, Maria Alexandrovna's village residence.
Lights were burning inside.
“Where's my old fool?” cried Maria Alexandrovna bursting like a hurricane into the sitting-room.
“Whats this towel lying here for? – Oh! – he's been wiping his head, has he. What, the baths again! and tea – of course tea! – always tea! Well, what are you winking your eyes at me for, you old fool? – Here, why is his hair not cropped? Grisha, Grisha! – here; why didn't you cut your master's hair, as I told you?”
Maria Alexandrovna, on entering the room, had intended to greet her husband more kindly than this; but seeing that he had just been to the baths and that he was drinking tea with great satisfaction, as usual, she could not restrain her irritable feelings.
She felt the contrast between her own activity and intellectual energy, and the stolid indifference and sheep-like contentedness of her husband, and it went to her heart!
Meanwhile the “old fool,” or to put it more politely, he who had been addressed by that title, sat at the tea-urn, and stared with open mouth, in abject alarm, opening and shutting his lips as he gazed at the wife of his bosom, who had almost petrified him by her sudden appearance.
At the door stood the sleepy, fat Grisha, looking on at the scene, and blinking both eyes at periodical intervals.
“I couldn't cut his hair as you wished, because he wouldn't let me!” he growled at last. “ ‘You'd better let me do it!’ – I said, ‘or the mistress'll be down one of these days, and then we shall both catch it!’ ”
“No,” he says, “I want it like this now, and you shall cut it on Sunday. I like it long!”
“What! – So you wish to curl it without my leave, do you! What an idea – as if you could wear curls with your sheep-face underneath! Good gracious, what a mess you've made of the place; and what's the smell – what have you been doing, idiot, eh!” cried Maria Alexandrovna, waxing more and more angry, and turning furiously upon the wretched and perfectly innocent Afanassy!
“Mam – mammy!” muttered the poor frightened master of the house, gazing with frightened eyes at the mistress, and blinking with all his might – “mammy!”
“How many times have I dinned into your stupid head that I am not your ‘mammy.’ How can I be your mammy, you idiotic pigmy? How dare you call a noble lady by such a name; a lady whose proper place is in the highest circles, not beside an ass like yourself!”
“Yes – yes, – but – but, you are my legal wife, you know, after all; – so I – it was husbandly affection you know – ” murmured poor Afanassy, raising both hands to his head as he spoke, to defend his hair from the tugs he evidently expected.
“Oh, idiot that you are! did anyone ever hear such a ridiculous answer as that – legal wife, indeed! Who ever heard the expression ‘legal wife,’ in good society – nasty low expression! And how dare you remind me that I am your wife, when I use all my power and do all I possibly can at every moment to forget the fact, eh? What are you covering your head with your hands for? Look at his hair – now: wet, as wet as reeds! it will take three hours to dry that head! How on earth am I to take him like this? How can he show his face among respectable people? What am I to do?”
And Maria Alexandrovna bit her finger-nails with rage as she walked furiously up and down the room.
It was no very great matter, of course; and one that was easily set right; but Maria Alexandrovna required a vent for her feelings and felt the need of emptying out her accumulated wrath upon the head of the wretched Afanassy Matveyevitch; for tyranny is a habit recallable at need.
Besides, everyone knows how great a contrast there is between the sweetness and refinement shown by many ladies of a certain class on the stage, as it were, of society life, and the revelations of character behind the scenes at home; and I was anxious to bring out this contrast for my reader's benefit.
Afanassy watched the movements of his terrible spouse in fear and trembling; perspiration formed upon his brow as he gazed.
“Grisha!” she cried at last, “dress your master this instant! Dress-coat, black trousers, white waistcoat and tie, quick! Where's his hairbrush – quick, quick!”
“Mam – my! Why, I've just been to the bath. I shall catch cold if I go up to town just now!”
“You won't catch cold!”
“But – mammy, my hair's quite wet!”
“We'll dry it in a minute. Here, Grisha, take this brush and brush away till he's dry, – harder – harder – much harder! There, that's better!”
Grisha worked like a man. For the greater convenience of his herculean task he seized his master's shoulder with one hand as he rubbed violently with the other. Poor Afanassy grunted and groaned and almost wept.
“Now, then, lift him up a bit. Where's the pomatum? Bend your head, duffer! – bend lower, you abject dummy!” And Maria Alexandrovna herself undertook to pomade her husband's hair, ploughing her hands through it without the slightest pity. Afanassy heartily wished that his shock growth had been cut. He winced, and groaned and moaned, but did not cry out under the painful operation.
“You suck my life-blood out of me – bend lower, you idiot!” remarked the fond wife – “bend lower still, I tell you!”
“How have I sucked your life blood?” asked the victim, bending his head as low as circumstances permitted.
“Fool! – allegorically, of course – can't you understand? Now, then, comb it yourself. Here, Grisha, dress him, quick!”
Our heroine threw herself into an arm-chair, and critically watched the ceremony of adorning her husband. Meanwhile the latter had a little opportunity to get his breath once more and compose his feelings generally; so that when matters arrived at the point where the tie is tied, he had even developed so much audacity as to express opinions of his own as to how the bow should be manufactured.
At last, having put his dress-coat on, the lord of the manor was his brave self again, and gazed at his highly ornate person in the glass with great satisfaction and complacency.
“Where are you going to take me to?” he now asked, smiling at his reflected self.
Maria Alexandrovna could not believe her ears.
“What —what? How dare you ask me where I am taking you to, sir!”
“But – mammy – I must know, you know – ”
“Hold your tongue! You let me hear you call me mammy again, especially where we are going to now! you sha'n't have any tea for a month!”
The frightened consort held his peace.
“Look at that, now! You haven't got a single 'order' to put on – sloven!” she continued, looking at his black coat with contempt.
“The Government awards orders, mammy; and I am not a sloven, but a town councillor!” said Afanassy, with a sudden excess of noble wrath.
“What, what —what! So you've learned to argue now, have you – you mongrel, you? However, I haven't time to waste over you now, or I'd – but I sha'n't forget it. Here, Grisha, give him his fur coat and his hat – quick; and look here, Grisha, when I'm gone, get these three rooms ready, and the green room, and the corner bedroom. Quick – find your broom; take the coverings off the looking-glasses and clocks, and see that all is ready and tidy within an hour. Put on a dress coat, and see that the other men have gloves: don't lose time. Quick, now!”
She entered the carriage, followed by Afanassy. The latter sat bewildered and lost.
Meanwhile Maria Alexandrovna reflected as to how best she could drum into her husband's thick skull certain essential instructions with regard to the present situation of affairs. But Afanassy anticipated her.
“I had a very original dream to-day, Maria Alexandrovna,” he observed quite unexpectedly, in the middle of a long silence.
“Tfu! idiot. I thought you were going to say something of terrific interest, from the look of you. Dream, indeed! How dare you mention your miserable dreams to me! Original, too! Listen here: if you dare so much as remind me of the word ‘dream,’ or say anything else, either, where we are going to-day, I – I don't know what I won't do to you! Now, look here: Prince K. has arrived at my house. Do you remember Prince K.?”
“Oh, yes, mammy, I remember; and why has he done us this honour?”
“Be quiet; that's not your business. Now, you are to invite him, with all the amiability you can, to come down to our house in the country, at once! That is what I am taking you up for. And if you dare so much as breathe another word of any kind, either to-day or to-morrow, or next day, without leave from me, you shall herd geese for a whole year. You're not to say a single word, mind! and that's all you have to think of. Do you understand, now?”
“Well, but if I'm asked anything?”
“Hold your tongue all the same!”
“Oh, but I can't do that – I can't do – ”
“Very well, then; you can say ‘H'm,’ or something of that sort, to give them the idea that you are very wise indeed, and like to think well before answering.”
“H'm.”
“Understand me, now. I am taking you up because you are to make it appear that you have just heard of the prince's visit, and have hastened up to town in a transport of joy to express your unbounded respect and gratitude to him, and to invite him at once to your country house! Do you understand me?”
“H'm.”
“I don't want you to say ‘H'm’ now, you fool! You must answer me when I speak!”
“All right – all right, mammy. All shall be as you wish; but why am I to ask the prince down?”
“What – what! arguing again. What business is it of yours why you are to invite him? How dare you ask questions!”
“Why it's all the same thing, mammy. How am I to invite him if I must not say a word?”
“Oh, I shall do all the talking. All you have to do is to bow. Do you hear? Bow; and hold your hat in your hand and look polite. Do you understand, or not?”
“I understand, mam – Maria-Alexandrovna.”
“The prince is very witty, indeed; so mind, if he says anything either to yourself or anyone else, you are to laugh cordially and merrily. Do you hear me?”
“H'm.”
“Don't say ‘H'm’ to me, I tell you. You are to answer me plainly and simply. Do you hear me, or not?”
“Yes, yes; I hear you, of course. That's all right. I only say ‘H'm,’ for practice; I want to get into the way of saying it. But look here, mammy, it's all very well; you say I'm not to speak, and if he speaks to me I'm to look at him and laugh – but what if he asks me a question?”
“Oh – you dense log of a man! I tell you again, you are to be quiet. I'll answer for you. You have simply got to look polite, and smile!”
“But he'll think I am dumb!” said Afanassy.
“Well, and what if he does. Let him! You'll conceal the fact that you are a fool, anyhow!”
“H'm, and if other people ask me questions?”
“No one will; there'll be no one to ask you. But if there should be anyone else in the room, and they ask you questions, all you have to do is to smile sarcastically. Do you know what a sarcastic smile is?”
“What, a witty sort of smile, is it, mammy?”
“I'll let you know about it! Witty, indeed! Why, who would think of expecting anything witty from a fool like you. No, sir, a jesting smile —jesting and contemptuous!”
“H'm.”
“Good heavens. I'm afraid for this idiot,” thought Maria Alexandrovna to herself. “I really think it would have been almost better to leave him behind, after all.” So thinking, nervous and anxious, Maria Alexandrovna drove on. She looked out of the window, and she fidgeted, and she bustled the coachman up. The horses were almost flying through the air; but to her they appeared to be crawling. Afanassy sat silent and thoughtful in the corner of the carriage, practising his lessons. At last the carriage arrived at the town house.
Hardly, however, had Maria Alexandrovna mounted the outer steps when she became aware of a fine pair of horses trotting up – drawing a smart sledge with a hood to it. In fact, the very “turn-out” in which Anna Nicolaevna Antipova was generally to be seen.
Two ladies sat in the sledge. One of these was, of course, Mrs. Antipova herself; the other was Natalia Dimitrievna, of late the great friend and ally of the former lady.
Maria Alexandrovna's heart sank.
But she had no time to say a word, before another smart vehicle drove up, in which there reclined yet another guest. Exclamations of joy and delight were now heard.
“Maria Alexandrovna! and Afanassy Matveyevitch! Just arrived, too! Where from? How extremely delightful! And here we are, you see, just driven up at the right moment. We are going to spend the evening with you. What a delightful surprise.”
The guests alighted and fluttered up the steps like so many swallows.
Maria Alexandrovna could neither believe her eyes nor her ears.
“Curse you all!” she said to herself. “This looks like a plot – it must be seen to; but it takes more than a flight of magpies like you to get to windward of me. Wait a little!!”
CHAPTER XI
Mosgliakoff went out from Maria Alexandrovna's house to all appearances quite pacified. She had fired his ardour completely. His imagination was kindled.
He did not go to his godfather's, for he felt the need of solitude. A terrific rush of heroic and romantic thoughts surged over him, and gave him no rest.
He pictured to himself the solemn explanation he should have with Zina, then the generous throbs of his all-forgiving heart; his pallor and despair at the future ball in St. Petersburg; then Spain, the Guadalquiver, and love, and the old dying prince joining their hands with his last blessing. Then came thoughts of his beautiful wife, devoted to himself, and never ceasing to wonder at and admire her husband's heroism and exalted refinement of taste and conduct. Then, among other things, the attention which he should attract among the ladies of the highest circles, into which he would of course enter, thanks to his marriage with Zina – widow of the Prince K.: then the inevitable appointments, first as a vice-governor, with the delightful accompaniment of salary: in a word, all, all that Maria Alexandrovna's eloquence had pictured to his imagination, now marched in triumphant procession through his brain, soothing and attracting and flattering his self-love.
And yet – (I really cannot explain this phenomenon, however!) – and yet, no sooner did the first flush of this delightful sunrise of future delights pass off and fade away, than the annoying thought struck him: this is all very well, but it is in the future: and now, to-day, I shall look a dreadful fool. As he reflected thus, he looked up and found that he had wandered a long way, to some of the dirty back slums of the town. A wet snow was falling; now and again he met another belated pedestrian like himself. The outer circumstances began to anger Mosgliakoff, which was a bad sign; for when things are going well with us we are always inclined to see everything in a rose-coloured light.
Paul could not help remembering that up to now he had been in the habit of cutting a dash at Mordasoff. He had enjoyed being treated at all the houses he went to in the town, as Zina's accepted lover, and to be congratulated, as he often was, upon the honour of that distinction. He was proud of being her future husband; and here he was now with notice to quit. He would be laughed at. He couldn't tell everybody about the future scene in the ball-room at St. Petersburg, and the Guadalquiver, and all that! And then a thought came out into prominence, which had been uncomfortably fidgeting about in his brain for some time: “Was it all true? Would it really come about as Maria Alexandrovna had predicted?”
Here it struck him that Maria Alexandrovna was an amazingly cunning woman; that, however worthy she might be of universal esteem, still she was a known scandal-monger, and lied from morning to night! that, again, she probably had some good reason for wishing him out of the place to-night. He next bethought him of Zina, and of her parting look at him, which was very far from being expressive of passionate love; he remembered also, that, less than an hour ago she had called him a fool.
As he thought of the last fact Paul stopped in his tracks, as though shot; blushed, and almost cried for very shame! At this very moment he was unfortunate enough to lose his footing on the slippery pavement, and to go head-first into a snow-heap. As he stood shaking himself dry, a whole troop of dogs, which had long trotted barking at his heels, flew at him. One of them, a wretched little half-starved beast, went so far as to fix her teeth into his fur coat and hang therefrom. Swearing and striking out, Paul cleared his way out of the yelping pack at last, in a fury, and with rent clothes; and making his way as fast as he could to the corner of the street, discovered that he hadn't the slightest idea where he was. He walked up lanes, and down streets, and round corners, and lost himself more and more hopelessly; also his temper. “The devil take all these confounded exalted ideas!” he growled, half aloud; “and the archfiend take every one of you, you and your Guadalquivers and humbug!”
Mosgliakoff was not in a pretty humour at this moment.
At last, tired and horribly angry, after two hours of walking, he reached the door of Maria Alexandrovna's house.
Observing a host of carriages standing outside, he paused to consider.
“Surely she has not a party to-night!” he thought, “and if she has, why has she a party?”
He inquired of the servants, and found out that Maria Alexandrovna had been out of town, and had fetched up Afanassy Matveyevitch, gorgeous in his dress-suit and white tie. He learned, further, that the prince was awake, but had not as yet made his appearance in the “salon.”
On receiving this information, Paul Mosgliakoff said not a word, but quietly made his way upstairs to his uncle's room.
He was in that frame of mind in which a man determines to commit some desperate act, out of revenge, aware at the time, and wide awake to the fact that he is about to do the deed, but forgetting entirely that he may very likely regret it all his life afterwards!
Entering the prince's room, he found that worthy seated before the glass, with a perfectly bare head, but with whiskers and napoleon stuck on. His wig was in the hands of his old and grey valet, his favourite Ivan Pochomitch, and the latter was gravely and thoughtfully combing it out.
As for the prince, he was indeed a pitiable object! He was not half awake yet, for one thing; he sat as though he were still dazed with sleep; he kept opening and shutting his mouth, and stared at Mosgliakoff as though he did not know him!
“Well, how are you, uncle?” asked Mosgliakoff.
“What, it's you, is it!” said the prince. “Ye – yes; I've been as – leep a little while! Oh, heavens!” he cried suddenly, with great animation, “why, I've got no wi – ig on!”
“Oh, never mind that, uncle; I'll help you on with it, if you like!”
“Dear me; now you've found out my se – ecret! I told him to shut the door. Now, my friend, you must give me your word in – stantly, that you'll never breathe a hint of this to anyone – I mean about my hair being ar – tificial!”
“Oh, uncle! As if I could be guilty of such meanness?” cried Paul, who was anxious to please the prince, for reasons of his own.
“Ye – yes, ye – yes. Well, as I see you are a good fe – ellow, I – I'll just as – tonish you a little: I'll tell you all my secrets! How do you like my mous – tache, my dear boy?”
“Wonderful, uncle, wonderful! It astonishes me that you should have been able to keep it so long!”
“Sp – are your wonder, my friend, it's ar – tificial!”
“No!! That's difficult to believe! Well, and your whiskers, uncle! admit – you black them, now don't you?”
“Black them? Not – only I don't black them, but they, too, are ar – tificial!” said the Prince, regarding Mosgliakoff with a look of triumph.
“What! Artificial? No, no, uncle! I can't believe that! You're laughing at me!”
“Parole d'honneur, mon ami!” cried the delighted old man; “and fancy, all – everybody is taken in by them just as you were! Even Stepanida Matveyevna cannot believe they are not real, sometimes, although she often sticks them on herself! But, I am sure, my dear friend, you will keep my se – cret. Give me your word!”
“I do give you my word, uncle! But surely you do not suppose I would be so mean as to divulge it?”
“Oh, my boy! I had such a fall to-day, without you. The coachman upset me out of the carriage again!”
“How? When?”
“Why, we were driving to the mo – nastery, when? – ”
“I know, uncle: that was early this morning!”
“No, no! A couple of hours ago, not more! I was driving along with him, and he suddenly took and up – set me!”
“Why, my dear uncle, you were asleep,” began Paul, in amazement!
“Ye – yes, ye – yes. I did have a sleep; and then I drove away, at least I – at least I – dear me, how strange it all seems!”
“I assure you, uncle, you have been dreaming! You saw all this in a dream! You have been sleeping quietly here since just after dinner!”
“No!” And the prince reflected. “Ye – yes. Perhaps I did see it all in a dream! However, I can remember all I saw quite well. First, I saw a large bull with horns; and then I saw a pro – curor, and I think he had huge horns too. Then there was Napoleon Buonaparte. Did you ever hear, my boy, that people say I am so like Napoleon Buonaparte? But my profile is very like some old pope. What do you think about it, my bo – oy?”
“I think you are much more like Napoleon Buonaparte, uncle!”
“Why, ye – yes, of course – full face; so I am, my boy, so I am! I dreamt of him on his is – land, and do you know he was such a merry, talk – ative fellow, he quite am – used me!”
“Who, uncle – Napoleon?” asked Mosgliakoff, looking thoughtfully at the old man. A strange idea was beginning to occupy his brain – an idea which he could not quite put into shape as yet.
“Ye – yes, ye – yes, Nap – oleon. We talked about philosophical subjects. And do you know, my boy, I became quite sorry that the English had been so hard upon him. Of course, though, if one didn't chain him up, he would be flying at people's throats again! Still I'm sorry for him. Now I should have managed him quite differently. I should have put him on an uninhabited island.”
“Why uninhabited, uncle?” asked Mosgliakoff, absently.
“Well, well, an inhabited one, then; but the in – habitants must be good sort of people. And I should arrange all sorts of amusements for him, at the State's charge: theatres, balle's, and so on. And, of course, he should walk about, under proper su – pervision. Then he should have tarts (he liked tarts, you know), as many tarts as ever he pleased. I should treat him like a fa – ather; and he would end by being sorry for his sins, see if he wouldn't!”
Mosgliakoff listened absently to all this senile gabble, and bit his nails with impatience. He was anxious to turn the conversation on to the subject of marriage. He did not know quite clearly why he wished to do so, but his heart was boiling over with anger.
Suddenly the old man made an exclamation of surprise.
“Why, my dear boy, I declare I've forgotten to tell you about it. Fancy, I made an offer of marriage to-day!”
“An offer of marriage, uncle?” cried Paul, brightening up.
“Why, ye – yes! an offer. Pachomief, are you going? All right! Away with you! Ye – yes, c'est une charmante personne. But I confess, I took the step rather rash – ly. I only begin to see that now. Dear me! dear, dear me!”
“Excuse me, uncle; but when did you make this offer?”
“Well, I admit I don't know exactly when I made it! Perhaps I dre – dreamed it; I don't know. Dear me, how very strange it all seems!”
Mosgliakoff trembled with joy: his new idea blazed forth in full developed glory.
“And whom did you propose to?” he asked impatiently.
“The daughter of the house, my boy; that beau – tiful girl. I – I forget what they call her. Bu – but, my dear boy, you see I – I can't possibly marry. What am I to do?”
“Oh! of course, you are done for if you marry, that's clear. But let me ask you one more question, uncle. Are you perfectly certain that you actually made her an offer of marriage?”
“Ye – yes, I'm sure of it; I – I – .”
“And what if you dreamed the whole thing, just as you did that you were upset out of the carriage a second time?”
“Dear me! dear me! I – I really think I may have dreamed it; it's very awkward. I don't know how to show myself there, now. H – how could I find out, dear boy, for certain? Couldn't I get to know by some outside way whether I really did make her an offer of ma – arriage or not? Why, just you think of my dreadful po – sition!”
“Do you know, uncle, I don't think we need trouble ourselves to find out at all.”
“Why, wh – what then?”
“I am convinced that you were dreaming.”
“I – I think so myself, too, my dear fellow; es – pecially as I often have that sort of dream.”
“You see, uncle, you had a drop of wine for lunch, and then another drop or two for dinner, don't you know; and so you may easily have – ”
“Ye – yes, quite so, quite so; it may easily have been that.”
“Besides, my dear uncle, however excited you may have been, you would never have taken such a senseless step in your waking moments. So far as I know you, uncle, you are a man of the highest and most deliberate judgment, and I am positive that – ”
“Ye – yes, ye – yes.”
“Why, only imagine – if your relations were to get to hear of such a thing. My goodness, uncle! they were cruel enough to you before. What do you suppose they would do now, eh?”
“Goodness gracious!” cried the frightened old prince. “Good – ness gracious! Wh – why, what would they do, do you think?”
“Do? Why, of course, they would all screech out that you had acted under the influence of insanity: in fact, that you were mad; that you had been swindled, and that you must be put under proper restraint. In fact, they'd pop you into some lunatic asylum.”
Mosgliakoff was well aware of the best method of frightening the poor old man out of his wits.
“Gracious heavens!” cried the latter, trembling like a leaflet with horror. “Gra – cious heavens! would they really do that?”
“Undoubtedly; and, knowing this, uncle, think for yourself. Could you possibly have done such a thing with your eyes open? As if you don't understand what's good for you just as well as your neighbours. I solemnly affirm that you saw all this in a dream!”
“Of course, of course; un – doubtedly in a dream, un – doubtedly so! What a clever fellow you are, my dear boy; you saw it at once. I am deeply grate – ful to you for putting me right. I was really quite under the im – pression I had actually done it.”
