ot even run in to Kirillov's, but
only called the old woman. Marie was in despair and indignation that "he
could dream of leaving her alone."

"But," he cried ecstatically, "this is the very last step! And then for
a new life and we'll never, never think of the old horrors again!"

He somehow appeased her and promised to be back at nine o'clock; he
kissed her warmly, kissed the baby and ran down quickly to Erkel.

They set off together to Stavrogin's park at Skvoreshniki, where, in a
secluded place at the very edge of the park where it adjoined the pine
wood, he had, eighteen months before, buried the printing press which
had been entrusted to him. It was a wild and deserted place, quite
hidden and at some distance from the Stavrogins' house. It was two or
perhaps three miles from Filipov's house.

"Are we going to walk all the way? I'll take a cab."

"I particularly beg you not to," replied Erkel.

They insisted on that. A cabman would be a witness.

"Well... bother! I don't care, only to make an end of it."

They walked very fast.

"Erkel, you little boy," cried Shatov, "have you ever been happy?"

"You seem to be very happy just now," observed Erkel with curiosity.

CHAPTER VI. A BUSY NIGHT

During that day Virginsky had spent two hours in running round to
see the members of the quintet and to inform them that Shatov would
certainly not give information, because his wife had come back and given
birth to a child, and no one "who knew anything of human nature" could
suppose that Shatov could be a danger at this moment. But to his
discomfiture he found none of them at home except Erkel and Lyamshin.
Erkel listened in silence, looking candidly into his eyes, and in answer
to the direct question "Would he go at six o'clock or not?" he replied
with the brightest of smiles that "of course he would go."

Lyamshin was in bed, seriously ill, as it seemed, with his head covered
with a quilt. He was alarmed at Virginsky's coming in, and as soon as
the latter began speaking he waved him off from under the bedclothes,
entreating him to let him alone. He listened to all he said about
Shatov, however, and seemed for some reason extremely struck by the news
that Virginsky had found no one at home. It seemed that Lyamshin
knew already (through Liputin) of Fedka's death, and hurriedly and
incoherently told Virginsky about it, at which the latter seemed struck
in his turn. To Virginsky's direct question, "Should they