beheld Razumov in the grounds of
the Chateau Borel, standing stockstill, bare-headed in the rain, at the
foot of the terrace. She had screamed out to him, by name, to know
what was the matter. He never even raised his head. By the time she had
dressed herself sufficiently to run downstairs he was gone. She started
in pursuit, and rushing out into the road, came almost directly upon the
arrested tramcar and the small knot of people picking up Razumov. That
much Tekla had told me herself one afternoon we happened to meet at the
door of the hospital, and without any kind of comment. But I did not
want to meditate very long on the inwardness of this peculiar episode.

"Yes, Natalia Victorovna, he shall need somebody when they dismiss him,
on crutches and stone deaf from the hospital. But I do not think that
when he rushed like an escaped madman into the grounds of the Chateau
Borel it was to seek the help of that good Tekla."

"No," said Natalia, stopping short before me, "perhaps not." She sat
down and leaned her head on her hand thoughtfully. The silence lasted
for several minutes. During that time I remembered the evening of his
atrocious confession--the plaint she seemed to have hardly enough life
left in her to utter, "It is impossible to be more unhappy...." The
recollection would have given me a shudder if I had not been lost
in wonder at her force and her tranquillity. There was no longer any
Natalia Haldin, because she had completely ceased to think of herself.
It was a great victory, a characteristically Russian exploit in
self-suppression.

She recalled me to myself by getting up suddenly like a person who has
come to a decision. She walked to the writing-table, now stripped of all
the small objects associated with her by daily use--a mere piece of dead
furniture; but it contained something living, still, since she took from
a recess a flat parcel which she brought to me.

"It's a book," she said rather abruptly. "It was sent to me wrapped
up in my veil. I told you nothing at the time, but now I've decided to
leave it with you. I have the right to do that. It was sent to me. It
is mine. You may preserve it, or destroy it after you have read it. And
while you read it, please remember that I was defenceless. And that
he.."

"Defenceless!" I repeated, surprised, looking hard at her.

"You'll find the very word written there," she whispered. "Well, it's
true! I _was_ defenceless--but perhaps you were able to se