my forefathers, they have
always been a poor lot; my own father was a sublieutenant in the army. I
don't know how Mrs. Epanchin comes into the Muishkin family, but she is
descended from the Princess Muishkin, and she, too, is the last of her
line."

"And did you learn science and all that, with your professor over
there?" asked the black-haired passenger.

"Oh yes--I did learn a little, but--"

"I've never learned anything whatever," said the other.

"Oh, but I learned very little, you know!" added the prince, as though
excusing himself. "They could not teach me very much on account of my
illness."

"Do you know the Rogojins?" asked his questioner, abruptly.

"No, I don't--not at all! I hardly know anyone in Russia. Why, is that
your name?"

"Yes, I am Rogojin, Parfen Rogojin."

"Parfen Rogojin? dear me--then don't you belong to those very Rogojins,
perhaps--" began the clerk, with a very perceptible increase of civility
in his tone.

"Yes--those very ones," interrupted Rogojin, impatiently, and with scant
courtesy. I may remark that he had not once taken any notice of the
blotchy-faced passenger, and had hitherto addressed all his remarks
direct to the prince.

"Dear me--is it possible?" observed the clerk, while his face assumed an
expression of great deference and servility--if not of absolute
alarm: "what, a son of that very Semen Rogojin--hereditary honourable
citizen--who died a month or so ago and left two million and a half of
roubles?"

"And how do _you_ know that he left two million and a half of roubles?"
asked Rogojin, disdainfully, and no deigning so much as to look at the
other. "However, it's true enough that my father died a month ago, and
that here am I returning from Pskoff, a month after, with hardly a boot
to my foot. They've treated me like a dog! I've been ill of fever at
Pskoff the whole time, and not a line, nor farthing of money, have I
received from my mother or my confounded brother!"

"And now you'll have a million roubles, at least--goodness gracious me!"
exclaimed the clerk, rubbing his hands.

"Five weeks since, I was just like yourself," continued Rogojin,
addressing the prince, "with nothing but a bundle and the clothes I
wore. I ran away from my father and came to Pskoff to my aunt's house,
where I caved in at once with fever, and he went and died while I was
away. All honour to my respected father's memory--but he uncommonly
nearly killed me, all the same. Give you m