ten it was perfect nonsense. He was a marked man on that
side. And that was nothing. It was what that miserable phantom stood for
which had to be got out of the way.... "If one only could go and spit
it all out at some of them--and take the consequences."

He imagined himself accosting the red-nosed student and suddenly shaking
his fist in his face. "From that one, though," he reflected, "there's
nothing to be got, because he has no mind of his own. He's living in
a red democratic trance. Ah! you want to smash your way into universal
happiness, my boy. I will give you universal happiness, you silly,
hypnotized ghoul, you! And what about my own happiness, eh? Haven't I
got any right to it, just because I can think for myself?..."

And again, but with a different mental accent, Razumov said to himself,
"I am young. Everything can be lived down." At that moment he was
crossing the room slowly, intending to sit down on the sofa and try to
compose his thoughts. But before he had got so far everything abandoned
him--hope, courage, belief in himself trust in men. His heart had, as it
were, suddenly emptied itself. It was no use struggling on. Rest, work,
solitude, and the frankness of intercourse with his kind were alike
forbidden to him. Everything was gone. His existence was a great cold
blank, something like the enormous plain of the whole of Russia levelled
with snow and fading gradually on all sides into shadows and mists.

He sat down, with swimming head, closed his eyes, and remained like
that, sitting bolt upright on the sofa and perfectly awake for the
rest of the night; till the girl bustling into the outer room with
the samovar thumped with her fist on the door, calling out, "Kirylo
Sidorovitch, please! It is time for you to get up!"

Then, pale like a corpse obeying the dread summons of judgement, Razumov
opened his eyes and got up.

Nobody will be surprised to hear, I suppose, that when the summons came
he went to see Councillor Mikulin. It came that very morning, while,
looking white and shaky, like an invalid just out of bed, he was trying
to shave himself. The envelope was addressed in the little attorney's
handwriting. That envelope contained another, superscribed to Razumov,
in Prince K---'s hand, with the request "Please forward under cover
at once" in a corner. The note inside was an autograph of Councillor
Mikulin. The writer stated candidly that nothing had arisen which needed
clearing up, but never