"Your Excellency, by God, you can't call them that, the less so as there are some quite worthy people among them. Man's circumstances are very difficult, Your Excellency, very, very difficult. It may so happen that a man seems thoroughly guilty; but once you go into it—it wasn't him at all."
"But what will they themselves say if I overlook it? Some of them will turn up their noses still more, and even say that they scared me. They'll be the first not to respect...”
"Your Excellency, allow me to give you my opinion: gather them all together, let them know that you are informed of everything and present to them your own position exactly as you have just now been pleased to present it to me, and ask their advice: what would each of them do in your place?"
"Do you really think they will understand the noblest impulses better than chicanery and opportunism? Believe me, they'll laugh at me."
"I don't think so, Your Excellency. The Russian man, even one who is worse than others, still has a sense of justice. Unless he's some sort of Jew, and not a Russian. No, Your Excellency, you have nothing to hide. Tell them exactly as you told me. For they denounce you as an ambitious and proud man who won't even listen to anything, so self-confident you are—so let them see it all as it is. What do you care? Your cause is right. Tell it to them as if you were bringing your confession not to them, but to God Himself."
"Afanasy Vassilyevich," the prince said, reflecting, "I'll think about it, and meanwhile I thank you very much for your advice."
"And order Chichikov's release, Your Excellency."
"Tell this Chichikov to take himself away from here as soon as possible, and the further the better. Him I can never forgive."
Murazov bowed and went straight from the prince to Chichikov. He found Chichikov already in good spirits, quite calmly occupied with a rather decent dinner that had been brought to him in covered dishes from some quite decent kitchen. From the first phrases of their conversation, the old man understood at once that Chichikov had already managed to talk with one or two of the pettifogging officials. He even understood that the invisible participation of the expert lawyer had interfered here.
"Listen, Pavel Ivanovich, sir," he said, "I am bringing you freedom, on condition that you leave town at once. Get all your belongings ready—and go with God, don't put it off for a moment, because things are worse than you think. I know, sir, that there's a man here who is inciting you; I tell you in secret that yet another case is developing here, and that no powers will save him. He is glad, of course, to drag others down, so as not to be bored, but things are getting sorted out. I left you in a good state of mind— better than you're in now. My advice is not offered lightly. By God, the point is not in this property, on account of which people argue and stab each other, as if one could have well-being in this life without thinking about the next. Believe me, Pavel Ivanovich, sir, until people abandon all that they wrangle over and eat each other for on earth, and think about the well-being of their spiritual property, there won't be any well-being of earthly property. There will be times of hunger and poverty, as much for all the people as for each one separately . . . That is clear, sir. Whatever you say, the body does depend on the soul. How then can you want things to go properly? Think not about dead souls, but about your living soul, and God help you on a different path! I, too, am leaving tomorrow. Hurry! or without me there will be trouble."
Having said this, the old man left. Chichikov fell to thinking. The meaning of life again seemed of no small importance. "Murazov is right," he said, "it's time for a different path!" Having said this, he left the prison. One sentry lugged the chest, another the suitcase with linen. Selifan and Petrushka were as glad of their master's deliverance as of God knows what.
"Well, my gentles," said Chichikov, addressing them benignly, "we must pack up and go."
"We'll get rolling, Pavel Ivanovich," said Selifan. "The road must have settled: there's been enough snow. It's time, truly, that we quit this town. I'm so sick of it I don't even want to look at it."
