"Rogues indeed! Why, they are only children and babies. Fifty banded together for such purposes! Is it possible? Three would be quite sufficient, and then they should be sure of one another--not babble over their cups. The babies! Then to hire unreliable people to change the notes at the money changers', persons whose hands tremble as they receive the rubles. On such their lives depend! Far better to strangle yourself! The man goes in, receives the change, counts some over, the last portion he takes on faith, stuffs all in his pocket, rushes away and the murder is out.
All is lost by one foolish man. Is it not ridiculous?""That his hands should shake?" replied Zametoff. "No; that is quite likely. Yours would not, I suppose? I could not endure it, though. For a paltry reward of a hundred rubles to go on such a mission! And where? Into a banker's office with forged notes! Ishould certainly lose my head. Would not you?"Raskolnikoff felt again a strong impulse to make a face at him. Ashiver ran down his back. "You would not catch me acting so foolishly," he commenced. "This is how I should do. I should count over the first thousand very carefully, perhaps four times, right to the end, carefully examine each note, and then only pass to the second thousand, count these as far as the middle of the bundle, take out a note, hold it to the light, turn it over, then hold it to the light again, and say, 'I fear this is a bad note,'
and then begin to relate some story about a lost note. Then there would be a third thousand to count. Not yet, please, there is a mistake in the second thousand. No, it is correct. And so Ishould proceed until I had received all. At last I should turn to go, open the door, but, no, pardon me! I should return, ask some question, receive some explanation, and there it is all done.""What funny things you do say!" said Zametoff with a smile. "You are all very well theoretically, but try it and see. Look, for example, at the murder of the money lender, a case in point. There was a desperate villain who in broad daylight stopped at nothing, and yet his hand shook, did it not?--and he could not finish, and left all the spoil behind him. The deed evidently robbed him of his presence of mind."This language nettled Raskolnikoff. "You think so? Then lay your hand upon him," said he, maliciously delighted to tease him.
"Never fear but we shall!"
"You? Go to, you know nothing about it. All you think of inquiring is whether a man is flinging money about; he is--then, ergo he is guilty.""That is exactly what they do," replied Zametoff, "they murder, risk their lives, and then rush to the public house and are caught.
Their lavishness betrays them. You see they are not all so crafty as you are. You would not run there, I suppose?"Raskolnikoff frowned and looked steadily at Zametoff. "You seem anxious to know how I should act," he said with some displeasure.
"I should very much like to know," replied Zametoff in a serious tone. He seemed, indeed, very anxious.
"Very much?"
"Very much."
"Good. This would be my plan," Raskolnikoff said, as he again bent near to the face of his listener, and speaking in such a tragic whisper as almost to make the latter shudder. "I should take the money and all I could find, and make off, going, however, in no particular direction, but on and on until I came to some obscure and inclosed place, where no one was about--a market garden, or any such-like spot. I should then look about me for a stone, perhaps a pound and a half in weight, lying, it may be, in a corner against a partition, say a stone used for building purposes; this I should lift up and under it there would be a hole. In that hole I should deposit all the things I had got, roll back the stone, stamp it down with my feet, and be off. For a year I should let them lie--for two years, three years. Now then, search for them! Where are they?""You are indeed mad," said Zametoff, also in a low tone, but turning away from Raskolnikoff. The latter's eyes glistened, he became paler than ever, while his upper lip trembled violently. He placed his face closer, if possible, to that of Zametoff, his lips moving as if he wished to speak, but no words escaped them--several moments elapsed--Raskolnikoff knew what he was doing, but felt utterly unable to control himself, that strange impulse was upon him as when he stood at the bolted door, to come forth and let all be known.
"What if I killed the old woman and Elizabeth?" he asked suddenly, and then--came to himself.
Zametoff turned quite pale; then his face changed to a smile. "Can it be so?" he muttered to himself.
Raskolnikoff eyed him savagely. "Speak out. What do you think?
Yes? Is it so?"
"Of course not. I believe it now less than ever," replied Zametoff hastily.
"Caught at last! caught, my fine fellow! What people believe less than ever, they must have believed once, eh?""Not at all. You frightened me into the supposition," said Zametoff, visibly confused.
"So you do not think this? Then why those questions in the office?
Why did the lieutenant question me after my swoon? Waiter," he cried, seizing his cap, "here, how much?""Thirty kopecks, sir," replied the man.
"There you are, and twenty for yourself. Look, what a lot of money!" turning to Zametoff and thrusting forth his shaking hand filled with the twenty-five rubles, red and blue notes. "Whence comes all this? Where did I obtain these new clothes from? You know I had none. You have asked the landlady, I suppose? Well, no matter!--Enough! Adieu, most affectionately."He went out, shaking from some savage hysterical emotion, a mixture of delight, gloom, and weariness. His face was drawn as if he had just recovered from a fit; and, as his agitation of mind increased, so did his weakness.
Meanwhile, Zametoff remained in the restaurant where Raskolnikoff had left him, deeply buried in thought, considering the different points Raskolnikoff had placed before him.
