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fearful burden that had so long been weighing upon him； and all at
once there was a sense of relief and peace in his soul。 〃Lord；〃 he
prayed； 〃show me my path… I renounce that accursed。。。 dream of mine。〃
Crossing the bridge； he gazed quietly and calmly at the Neva； at the
glowing red sun setting in the glowing sky。 In spite of his weakness
he was not conscious of fatigue。 It was as though an abscess that
had been forming for a month past in his heart had suddenly broken。
Freedom； freedom！ He was free from that spell； that sorcery； that
obsession！
Later on； when he recalled that time and all that happened to him
during those days； minute by minute； point by point； he was
superstitiously impressed by one circumstance； which though in
itself not very exceptional； always seemed to him afterwards the
predestined turning…point of his fate。 He could never understand and
explain to himself why； when he was tired and worn out； when it
would have been more convenient for him to go home by the shortest and
most direct way； he had returned by the Hay Market where he had no
need to go。 It was obviously and quite unnecessarily out of his way；
though not much so。 It is true that it happened to him dozens of times
to return home without noticing what streets he passed through。 But
why； he was always asking himself； why had such an important； such a
decisive and at the same time such an absolutely chance meeting
happened in the Hay Market （where he had moreover no reason to go）
at the very hour； the very minute of his life when he was just in
the very mood and in the very circumstances in which that meeting
was able to exert the gravest and most decisive influence on his whole
destiny？ As though it had been lying in wait for him on purpose！
It was about nine o'clock when he crossed the Hay Market。 At the
tables and the barrows； at the booths and the shops； all the market
people were closing their establishments or clearing away and
packing up their wares and； like their customers； were going home。
Ragpickers and costermongers of all kinds were crowding round the
taverns in the dirty and stinking courtyards of the Hay Market。
Raskolnikov particularly liked this place and the neighbouring alleys；
when he wandered aimlessly in the streets。 Here his rags did not
attract contemptuous attention； and one could walk about in any attire
without scandalising people。 At the corner of an alley a huckster
and his wife had two tables set out with tapes； thread； cotton
handkerchiefs； &c。 They； too； had got up to go home； but were
lingering in conversation with a friend； who had just come up to them。
This friend was Lizaveta Ivanovna； or； as every one called her；
Lizaveta； the younger sister of the old pawnbroker； Alyona Ivanovna；
whom Raskolnikov had visited the previous day to pawn his watch and
make his experiment。。。。 He already knew all about Lizaveta and she
knew him a little too。 She was a single woman of about thirty…five；
tall； clumsy； timid； submissive and almost idiotic。 She was a complete
slave and went in fear and trembling of her sister； who made her
work day and night； and even beat her。 She was standing with a
bundle before the huckster and his wife； listening earnestly and
doubtfully。 They were talking of something with special warmth。 The
moment Raskolnikov caught sight of her； he was overcome by a strange
sensation as it were of intense astonishment； though there was nothing
astonishing about this meeting。
〃You could make up your mind for yourself； Lizaveta Ivanovna；〃 the
huckster was saying aloud。 〃Come round tomorrow about seven。 They will
be here too。〃
〃To…morrow？〃 said Lizaveta slowly and thoughtfully； as though unable
to make up her mind。
〃Upon my word； what a fright you are in of Alyona Ivanovna；〃 gabbled
the huckster's wife； a lively little woman。 〃I look at you； you are
like some little babe。 And she is not your own sister either…
nothing but a stepsister and what a hand she keeps over you！〃
〃But this time don't say a word to Alyona Ivanovna；〃 her husband
interrupted； 〃that's my advice； but come round to us without asking。
It will be worth your while。 Later on your sister herself may have a
notion。〃
〃Am I to come？〃
〃About seven o'clock to…morrow。 And they will be here。 You will be
able to decide for yourself。〃
〃And we'll have a cup of tea；〃 added his wife。
〃All right； I'll come；〃 said Lizaveta； still pondering； and she
began slowly moving away。
Raskolnikov had just passed and heard no more。 He passed softly；
unnoticed； trying not to miss a word。 His first amazement was followed
by a thrill of horror； like a shiver running down his spine。 He had
learnt； he had suddenly quite unexpectedly learnt； that the next day
at seven o'clock Lizaveta； the old woman's sister and only
companion； would be away from home and that therefore at seven o'clock
precisely the old woman would be left alone。
He was only a few steps from his lodging。 He went in like a man
condemned to death。 He thought of nothing and was incapable of
thinking； but he felt suddenly in his whole being that he had no
more freedom of thought； no will； and that everything was suddenly and
irrevocably decided。
Certainly； if he had to wait whole years for a suitable opportunity；
he could not reckon on a more certain step towards the success of
the plan than that which had just presented itself。 In any case； it
would have been difficult to find out beforehand and with certainty；
with greater exactness and less risk； and without dangerous
inquiries and investigations； that next day at a certain time an old
woman； on whose life an attempt was contemplated； would be at home and
entirely alone。