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peasant in a full open coat and with keys on his belt。 〃Get along！
He is a rogue and no mistake。 Get along！〃
And seizing Raskolnikov by the shoulder he flung him into the
street。 He lurched forward； but recovered his footing； looked at the
spectators in silence and walked away。
〃Strange man！〃 observed the workman。
〃There are strange folks about nowadays；〃 said the woman。
〃You should have taken him to the police station all the same；〃 said
the man in the long coat。
〃Better have nothing to do with him；〃 decided the big porter。 〃A
regular rogue！ Just what he wants； you may be sure； but once take
him up； you won't get rid of him。。。。 We know the sort！〃
〃Shall I go there or not？〃 thought Raskolnikov； standing in the
middle of the thoroughfare at the cross roads； and he looked about
him； as though expecting from some one a decisive word。 But no sound
came； all was dead and silent like the stones on which he walked； dead
to him； to him alone。。。。 All at once at the end of the street； two
hundred yards away； in the gathering dusk he saw a crowd and heard
talk and shouts。 In the middle of the crowd stood a carriage。。。。 A
light gleamed in the middle of the street。 〃What is it？〃 Raskolnikov
turned to the right and went up to the crowd。 He seemed to clutch at
everything and smiled coldly when he recognised it； for he had fully
made up his mind to go to the police station and knew that it would
all soon be over。
Chapter Seven
AN ELEGANT carriage stood in the middle of the road with a pair of
spirited grey horses； there was no one in it； and the coachman had got
off his box and stood by； the horses were being held by the
bridle。。。 A mass of people had gathered round； the police standing
in front。 One of them held a lighted lantern which he was turning on
something lying close to the wheels。 Every one was talking；
shouting； exclaiming； the coachman seemed at a loss and kept
repeating：
〃What a misfortune！ Good Lord； what a misfortune！〃
Raskolnikov pushed his way in as far as he could； and succeeded at
last in seeing the object of the commotion and interest。 On the ground
a man who had been run over lay apparently unconscious； and covered
with blood； he was very badly dressed； but not like a workman。 Blood
was flowing from his head and face； his face was crushed； mutilated
and disfigured。 He was evidently badly injured。
〃Merciful heaven！〃 wailed the coachman； 〃what more could I do？ If
I'd been driving fast or had not shouted to him； but I was going
quietly； not in a hurry。 Every one could see I was going along just
like everybody else。 A drunken man can't walk straight； we all
know。。。。 I saw him crossing the street； staggering and almost falling。
I shouted again and a second and a third time； then I held the
horses in； but he fell straight under their feet！ Either he did it
on purpose or he was very tipsy。。。。 The horses are young and ready
to take fright。。。 they started； he screamed。。。 that made them worse。
That's how it happened！〃
〃That's just how it was；〃 a voice in the crowd confirmed。
〃He shouted； that's true； he shouted three times；〃 another voice
declared。
〃Three times it was； we all heard it；〃 shouted a third。
But the coachman was not very much distressed and frightened。 It was
evident that the carriage belonged to a rich and important person
who was awaiting it somewhere； the police； of course； were in no
little anxiety to avoid upsetting his arrangements。 All they had to do
was to take the injured man to the police station and the hospital。 No
one knew his name。
Meanwhile Raskolnikov had squeezed in and stooped closer over him。
The lantern suddenly lighted up the unfortunate man's face。 He
recognised him。
〃I know him！ I know him！〃 he shouted； pushing to the front。 〃It's
a government clerk retired from the service； Marmeladov。 He lives
close by in Kozel's house。。。。 Make haste for a doctor！ I will pay；
see。〃 He pulled money out of his pocket and showed it to the
policeman。 He was in violent agitation。
The police were glad that they had found out who the man was。
Raskolnikov gave his own name and address； and； as earnestly as if
it had been his father； he besought the police to carry the
unconscious Marmeladov to his lodging at once。
〃Just here； three houses away；〃 he said eagerly； 〃the house
belongs to Kozel； a rich German。 He was going home； no doubt drunk。
I know him； he is a drunkard。 He has a family there； a wife； children；
he has one daughter。。。。 It will take time to take him to the hospital；
and there is sure to be a doctor in the house。 I'll pay； I'll pay！
At least he will be looked after at home。。。 they will help him at
once。 But he'll die before you get him to the hospital。〃 He managed to
slip something unseen into the policeman's hand。 But the thing was
straightforward and legitimate； and in any case help was closer
here。 They raised the injured man； people volunteered to help。
Kozel's house was thirty yards away。 Raskolnikov walked behind；
carefully holding Marmeladov's head and showing the way。
〃This way； this way！ We must take him upstairs head foremost。 Turn
round！ I'll pay； I'll make it worth your while；〃 he muttered。
Katerina Ivanovna had just begun； as she always did at every free
moment； walking to and fro in her little room from window to stove and
back again； with her arms folded across her chest； talking to
herself and coughing。 Of late she had begun to talk more than ever
to her eldest girl； Polenka； a child of ten； who； though there was
much she did