At last, about half-past ten, the prince was left alone. His head ached. Colia was the last to go, after having helped him to change his wedding clothes. They parted on affectionate terms, and, without speaking of what had happened, Colia promised to come very early the next day. He said later that the prince had given no hint of his intentions when they said good-bye, but had hidden them even from him. Soon there was hardly anyone left in the house. Burdovsky had gone to see Hippolyte; Keller and Lebedeff had wandered off together somewhere.

“And you are _not_, I presume, eh?”

“He may not be home for a week.”

“Well, but--have you taken the purse away now?”
Hippolyte looked around at the laughing guests. The prince observed that his teeth were chattering as though in a violent attack of ague.
“Nastasia Philipovna!” said the general, in persuasive but agitated tones.
“I knew it, but I have a right. I... I...” stammered the “son of Pavlicheff.”

“Oh no! I have been here a long while,” replied Colia, who was at the front door when the general met him. “I am keeping Hippolyte company. He is worse, and has been in bed all day. I came down to buy some cards. Marfa Borisovna expects you. But what a state you are in, father!” added the boy, noticing his father’s unsteady gait. “Well, let us go in.”

“Where’s your brother?”

“How did you come here?” she asked, at last.
“Ask Gavrila Ardalionovitch to step this way,” said she to the man who answered.

“Everybody takes you in and deceives you; you went to town yesterday. I dare swear you went down on your knees to that rogue, and begged him to accept your ten thousand roubles!”

“I tell you it’s true,” said Rogojin quietly, but with eyes ablaze with passion.
“Can’t you even load a pistol?”
“Dear me! How you have gone into all the refinements and details of the question! Why, my dear fellow, you are not a caligraphist, you are an artist! Eh, Gania?”

“I, too, should have been unable to tear my eyes away,” said Aglaya.

Mrs. Epanchin reflected a moment. The next minute she flew at the prince, seized his hand, and dragged him after her to the door.
The presence of certain of those in the room surprised the prince vastly, but the guest whose advent filled him with the greatest wonder--almost amounting to alarm--was Evgenie Pavlovitch. The prince could not believe his eyes when he beheld the latter, and could not help thinking that something was wrong.
“Did you hit her?”
“Have you just seen Lizabetha Prokofievna?” asked the prince, scarcely believing his ears.

The general sat on and on. He had ordered a fresh bottle when the prince arrived; this took him an hour to drink, and then he had another, and another, during the consumption of which he told pretty nearly the whole story of his life. The prince was in despair. He felt that though he had but applied to this miserable old drunkard because he saw no other way of getting to Nastasia Philipovna’s, yet he had been very wrong to put the slightest confidence in such a man.

“And it’s Siberia for sacrilege, isn’t it?”

“How annoying!” exclaimed the prince. “I thought... Tell me, is he...”

“No.”

Hippolyte raised his head with an effort, saying:
“What on earth will she say to me, I wonder?” he thought to himself.
But this intercession seemed to rekindle the general.
“Pavlicheff?--Pavlicheff turned Roman Catholic? Impossible!” he cried, in horror.
“I have observed,” said the prince, “that he seems to be an object of very singular interest to you, Evgenie Pavlovitch. Why is it?”

“Lef Nicolaievitch,” said Rogojin, after a pause, during which the two walked along a little further, “I have long wished to ask you, do you believe in God?”

“I’m very, very glad to hear of this, Parfen,” said the prince, with real feeling. “Who knows? Maybe God will yet bring you near to one another.”

“What? You don’t mean to say that he went there yesterday!” cried Gania, flushing red with shame and anger. “Good heavens, Varia! Speak! You have just been there. _Was_ he there or not, _quick?_” And Gania rushed for the door. Varia followed and caught him by both hands.
“Did she bring you with her of her own accord?”