you shame yourself by desiring to
go with Rogojin? You are delirious. You have returned to Mr. Totski his
seventy-five thousand roubles, and declared that you will leave this
house and all that is in it, which is a line of conduct that not one
person here would imitate. Nastasia Philipovna, I love you! I would die
for you. I shall never let any man say one word against you, Nastasia
Philipovna! and if we are poor, I can work for both."

As the prince spoke these last words a titter was heard from
Ferdishenko; Lebedeff laughed too. The general grunted with irritation;
Ptitsin and Totski barely restrained their smiles. The rest all sat
listening, open-mouthed with wonder.

"But perhaps we shall not be poor; we may be very rich, Nastasia
Philipovna." continued the prince, in the same timid, quivering tones.
"I don't know for certain, and I'm sorry to say I haven't had an
opportunity of finding out all day; but I received a letter from Moscow,
while I was in Switzerland, from a Mr. Salaskin, and he acquaints me
with the fact that I am entitled to a very large inheritance. This
letter--"

The prince pulled a letter out of his pocket.

"Is he raving?" said the general. "Are we really in a mad-house?"

There was silence for a moment. Then Ptitsin spoke.

"I think you said, prince, that your letter was from Salaskin? Salaskin
is a very eminent man, indeed, in his own world; he is a wonderfully
clever solicitor, and if he really tells you this, I think you may be
pretty sure that he is right. It so happens, luckily, that I know his
handwriting, for I have lately had business with him. If you would allow
me to see it, I should perhaps be able to tell you."

The prince held out the letter silently, but with a shaking hand.

"What, what?" said the general, much agitated.

"What's all this? Is he really heir to anything?"

All present concentrated their attention upon Ptitsin, reading the
prince's letter. The general curiosity had received a new fillip.
Ferdishenko could not sit still. Rogojin fixed his eyes first on the
prince, and then on Ptitsin, and then back again; he was extremely
agitated. Lebedeff could not stand it. He crept up and read over
Ptitsin's shoulder, with the air of a naughty boy who expects a box on
the ear every moment for his indiscretion.

XVI.

"It's good business," said Ptitsin, at last, folding the letter and
handing it back to the prince. "You will receive, without the slightest
trouble, by