h
his finger) "about which I held my tongue--in the first place, because
it wasn't worth talking about, and secondly, because I only answered
questions. I don't care to put myself forward in such matters; in that
I see the distinction between a rogue and an honest man forced by
circumstances. Well, in short, we'll dismiss that. But now... now that
these fools... now that this has come to the surface and is in your
hands, and I see that you'll find out all about it--for you are a man
with eyes and one can't tell beforehand what you'll do--and these fools
are still going on, I... I... well, the fact is, I've come to ask you
to save one man, a fool too, most likely mad, for the sake of his youth,
his misfortunes, in the name of your humanity.... You can't be so humane
only in the novels you manufacture!" he said, breaking off with coarse
sarcasm and impatience.

In fact, he was seen to be a straightforward man, awkward and
impolitic from excess of humane feeling and perhaps from excessive
sensitiveness--above all, a man of limited intelligence, as Von Lembke
saw at once with extraordinary subtlety. He had indeed long suspected
it, especially when during the previous week he had, sitting alone
in his study at night, secretly cursed him with all his heart for the
inexplicable way in which he had gained Yulia Mihailovna's good graces.

"For whom are you interceding, and what does all this mean?" he inquired
majestically, trying to conceal his curiosity.

"It... it's... damn it! It's not my fault that I trust you! Is it
my fault that I look upon you as a most honourable and, above all, a
sensible man... capable, that is, of understanding... damn..."

The poor fellow evidently could not master his emotion.

"You must understand at last," he went on, "you must understand that in
pronouncing his name I am betraying him to you--I am betraying him, am I
not? I am, am I not?"

"But how am I to guess if you don't make up your mind to speak out?"

"That's just it; you always cut the ground from under one's feet with
your logic, damn it.... Well, here goes... this 'noble personality,'
this 'student'... is Shatov... that's all."

"Shatov? How do you mean it's Shatov?"

"Shatov is the 'student' who is mentioned in this. He lives here, he was
once a serf, the man who gave that slap...."

"I know, I know." Lembke screwed up his eyes. "But excuse me, what is he
accused of? Precisely and, above all, what is your petition?"

"I b