I asked him directly, but very coolly, what he needed it for. And to this day I cannot understand how such a degree of naïveté was possible in a seemingly “practical” and not stupid man, as Vasin defined him. He explained to me quite directly that at Dergachev’s, as he suspected, “most likely something forbidden, strictly forbidden, is going on, and so, having investigated, I might make myself a little profit from it.” And, smiling, he winked at me with his left eye.
I answered precisely nothing in the affirmative, but pretended I was thinking it over and “promised to think,” after which I quickly left. Things were getting complicated: I flew to Vasin’s and just caught him at home.
“Ah, and you, too!” he said mysteriously on seeing me.
Not picking up his phrase, I went straight to the point and told him. He was visibly struck, though he didn’t lose his equanimity. He asked me to repeat it all in detail.
“Might it not well be that you misunderstood?”
“No, I understood correctly, the meaning was perfectly straightforward.”
“In any case I’m extremely grateful to you,” he added sincerely. “Yes, indeed, if that’s how it all was, then he supposed you wouldn’t be able to hold out against a certain sum.”
“And besides, he knew my situation all too well: I’ve been gambling, I’ve behaved badly, Vasin.”
“I heard about that.”
“The most puzzling thing of all for me is that he knows about you, that you go there, too,” I risked asking.
“He knows only too well,” Vasin replied quite simply, “that I have nothing to do with them. And all these young people are mostly babblers—and nothing more. You, however, may remember that better than anyone.”
It seemed to me as if he was not trusting me with something.
“In any case I’m extremely grateful to you.”
“I’ve heard that Mr. Stebelkov’s affairs are somewhat in disorder,” I made another attempt to ask. “At least I’ve heard about some shares . . .”
“What shares have you heard about?”
I deliberately mentioned the “shares,” but, naturally, not in order to tell him the prince’s secret from yesterday. I only wanted to drop a hint and see by his face, by his eyes, whether he knew anything about the shares. I achieved my goal: by an imperceptible and instant movement in his face, I guessed that he might know something here as well. I didn’t reply to his question, “What shares?” but remained silent; and he, curiously, didn’t pursue it.
“How is Lizaveta Makarovna’s health?” he inquired with concern.
“She’s well. My sister has always respected you . . .”
Pleasure flashed in his eyes: I had guessed long ago that he was not indifferent to Liza.
“Prince Sergei Petrovich came to see me the other day,” he suddenly imparted.
“When?” I cried.
“Exactly four days ago.”
“Not yesterday?”
“No, not yesterday.” He looked at me questioningly.
“Later maybe I’ll tell you about this meeting in more detail, but now I find it necessary to warn you,” Vasin said enigmatically, “that he appeared to me then to be in an abnormal state of spirit and . . . even of mind. However, I’ve had yet another visit,” he suddenly smiled, “just before you, and I was also forced to conclude that the visitor was not quite in a normal state.”
“The prince was just here?”
“No, not the prince, I’m not talking about the prince now. Andrei Petrovich Versilov was just here and . . . do you know anything? Has anything happened to him?”
“Maybe so, but what precisely went on between you and him?” I asked hastily.
“Of course, I ought to keep this a secret . . . We’re having a strange conversation, you and I, all too secretive,” he smiled again. “However, Andrei Petrovich didn’t order me to keep it a secret. But you’re his son, and since I know your feelings for him, this time it even seems I’ll do well to warn you. Imagine, he came to me with a question: ‘If it so happens, one of these days, very soon, that he needs to fight a duel, would I agree to play the role of his second?’ Naturally, I roundly refused him.”
I was infinitely amazed; this news was the most alarming of all: something had come out, something had gone on, something had certainly happened that I still didn’t know about! I suddenly had a fleeting recollection of Versilov saying to me yesterday, “I won’t come to you, but you’ll come running to me.” I flew to Prince Nikolai Ivanovich’s, with a still greater presentiment that the answer was there. Vasin, saying good-bye, thanked me once more.
II
