nd there in the farthest corner found
a little door, which led out into a narrow and deserted lane, and was
always kept locked. It appeared that Alexey Yegorytch had the key in his
hand.

"Won't the door creak?" Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch inquired again.

But Alexey Yegorytch informed him that it had been oiled yesterday "as
well as to-day." He was by now wet through. Unlocking the door he gave
the key to Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch.

"If it should be your pleasure to be taking a distant walk, I would warn
your honour that I am not confident of the folk here, especially in
the back lanes, and especially beyond the river," he could not resist
warning him again. He was an old servant, who had been like a nurse to
Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch, and at one time used to dandle him in his arms;
he was a grave and severe man who was fond of listening to religious
discourse and reading books of devotion.

"Don't be uneasy, Alexey Yegorytch."

"May God's blessing rest on you, sir, but only in your righteous
undertakings."

"What?" said Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch, stopping short in the lane.

Alexey Yegorytch resolutely repeated his words. He had never before
ventured to express himself in such language in his master's presence.

Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch locked the door, put the key in his pocket, and
crossed the lane, sinking five or six inches into the mud at every step.
He came out at last into a long deserted street. He knew the town like
the five fingers of his hand, but Bogoyavlensky Street was a long way
off. It was past ten when he stopped at last before the locked gates of
the dark old house that belonged to Filipov. The ground floor had stood
empty since the Lebyadkins had left it, and the windows were boarded up,
but there was a light burning in Shatov's room on the second floor. As
there was no bell he began banging on the gate with his hand. A window
was opened and Shatov peeped out into the street. It was terribly dark,
and difficult to make out anything. Shatov was peering out for some
time, about a minute.

"Is that you?" he asked suddenly.

"Yes," replied the uninvited guest.

Shatov slammed the window, went downstairs and opened the gate. Nikolay
Vsyevolodovitch stepped over the high sill, and without a word passed by
him straight into Kirillov's lodge.

V

There everything was unlocked and all the doors stood open. The passage
and the first two rooms were dark, but there was a light shining in the
last, in wh