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He broke off evidently waiting for a word。 Razumov remained
silent。 Haldin nodded his head dejectedly twice。
〃Of course。 Of course；〃he murmured。 。 。 。 〃Ah！ weary work！〃
He remained perfectly still for a moment； then made Razumov's
leaden heart strike a ponderous blow by springing up briskly。
〃So be it；〃 he cried sadly in a low； distinct tone。 〃Farewell then。〃
Razumov started forward； but the sight of Haldin's raised hand
checked him before he could get away from the table。 He leaned
on it heavily； listening to the faint sounds of some town clock
tolling the hour。 Haldin； already at the door； tall and straight
as an arrow； with his pale face and a hand raised attentively；
might have posed for the statue of a daring youth listening
to an inner voice。 Razumov mechanically glanced down at his
watch。 When he looked towards the door again Haldin had
vanished。 There was a faint rustling in the outer room； the
feeble click of a bolt drawn back lightly。 He was gonealmost
as noiseless as a vision。
Razumov ran forward unsteadily； with parted； voiceless lips。 The
outer door stood open。 Staggering out on the landing； he leaned
far over the banister。 Gazing down into the deep black shaft
with a tiny glimmering flame at the bottom； he traced by ear the
rapid spiral descent of somebody running down the stairs on
tiptoe。 It was a light； swift； pattering sound； which sank away
from him into the depths： a fleeting shadow passed over the
glimmera wink of the tiny flame。 Then stillness。
Razumov hung over； breathing the cold raw air tainted by the evil
smells of the unclean staircase。 All quiet。
He went back into his room slowly； shutting the doors after him。
The peaceful steady light of his reading…lamp shone on the watch。
Razumov stood looking down at the little white dial。 It wanted yet
three minutes to midnight。 He took the watch into his hand fumblingly。
〃Slow；〃 he muttered； and a strange fit of nervelessness came over
him。 His knees shook； the watch and chain slipped through his
fingers in an instant and fell on the floor。 He was so startled
that he nearly fell himself。 When at last he regained enough
confidence in his limbs to stoop for it he held it to his ear at
once。 After a while he growled
〃Stopped；〃 and paused for quite a long time before he muttered sourly
〃It's done。 。 。 。 And now to work。〃
He sat down； reached haphazard for a book； opened it in middle and
began to read； but after going conscientiously over two lines he lost
his hold on the print completely and did not try to regain it。 He thought
〃There was to a certainty a police agent of some sort watching
the house across the street。〃
He imagined him lurking in a dark gateway； goggle…eyed； muffled
up in a cloak to the nose and with a General's plumed； cocked hat
on his head。 This absurdity made him start in the chair convulsively。
He literally had to shake his head violently to get rid of it。
The man would be disguised perhaps as a peasant 。 。 。a beggar。 。 。 。
Perhaps he would be just buttoned up in a dark overcoat and carrying
a loaded sticka shifty…eyed rascal； smelling of raw onions and spirits。
This evocation brought on positive nausea。 〃Why do I want to
bother about this？〃 thought Razumov with disgust。 〃Am I a gendarme？
Moreover； it is done。〃
He got up in great agitation。 It was not done。 Not yet。 Not
till half…past twelve。 And the watch had stopped。 This reduced
him to despair。 Impossible to know the time！ The andlady and
all the people across the landing were asleep。 How could he go
and。 。 。God knows what they would imagine； or how much they
would guess。 He dared not go into the streets to find out。
〃I am a suspect now。 There's no use shirking that fact；〃 he said
to himself bitterly。 If Haldin from some cause or another gave
them the slip and。failed to turn up in the Karabelnaya the police
would be invading his lodging。 And if he were not in he could
never clear himself。 Never。 Razumov looked wildly about as if
for some means of seizing upon time which seemed to have escaped
him altogether。 He had never； as far as he could remember； heard
the striking of that town clock in his rooms before this night。
And he was not even sure now whether he had heard it really on
this night。
He went to the window and stood there with slightly bent head
on the watch for the faint sound。 'I will stay here till I hear
something；〃 he said to himself。 He stood still； his ear turned
to the panes。 An atrocious aching numbness with shooting pains
in his back and legs tortured him。 He did not budge。 His mind
hovered on the borders of delirium。 He heard himself suddenly
saying； 〃I confess；〃 as a person might do on the rack。 〃I am on
the rack；〃 he thought。 He felt ready to swoon。 The faint deep
boom of the distant clock seemed to explode in his headhe heard
it so clearly。 。 。 。 One！
If Haldin had not turned up the police would have been already
here ransacking the house。 No sound reached him。 This time it
was done。
He dragged himself painfully to the table and dropped into the
chair。 He flung the book away and took a square sheet of paper。
It was like the pile of sheets covered with his neat minute
handwriting； only blank。 He took a pen brusquely and dipped it
with a vague notion of going on with the writing of his
essaybut his pen remained poised over the sheet。 It hung there
for some time before it came down and formed long scrawly
letters。
Still…faced and his lips set hard； Razumov began to write。 When
he wrote a large hand his neat writing lost its character
altogetherbecame unsteady； almost childish。 He wrote five
lines one under the other。
History not Theory。
Patriotism not Internationalism。
Evolution not Revolution。
Direction not Destruction。
Unity not Disruption。
He gazed at them dully。 Then his eyes strayed to the bed and
reInajned fixed there for a good many minutes； while his
right hand groped all over the table for the penknife。
He rose at last； and walking up with measured steps stabbed the
paper with the penknife to the lath and plaster wall at the head
of the bed。 This done he stepped back a pace and flourished his
hand with a glance round the room。
After that he never looked again at the bed。 He took his big
cloak down from its peg and； wrapping himself up closely； went to
lie down on the hard horse…hair sofa at the other side of his
room。 A leaden sleep closed his eyelids at once。 Several times
that night he woke up shivering from a dream of walking through
drifts of snow in a Russia where he was as completely alone as
any betrayed autocrat could be； an immense； wintry Russia which；
somehow； his view could embrace in all its enormous expanse as if
it were a map。 But after each shuddering start his heavy eyelids
fell over his glazed eyes and he slept again。
III
Appro