CHAPTER VII.

He was in a great hurry to "know all." In order to lose no time about finding out what he felt he must know at once, he told the coachman to drive him straight to Trusotsky's rooms. On the way he changed his mind; "let him come to me, himself," he thought, "and meanwhile I can attend to my cursed law business."

But to-day he really felt that he was too absent to attend to anything at all; and at five o'clock he set out with the intention of dining. And at this moment, for the first time, an amusing idea struck him. What if he really only hindered his law business by meddling as he did, and hunting his wretched lawyer about the place, when the latter plainly avoided meeting him? Velchaninoff laughed merrily over this idea. "And yet," he thought; "if this notion had struck me in the evening instead of now, how angry I should have been!" He laughed again, more merrily than before. But in spite of his merriness he grew more and more thoughtful and impatient, and could settle to nothing, nor could he think out what he most wanted to reflect upon.

"I _must_ have that fellow here!" he said at length; "I must read the mystery of _him_ first of all, and then I can settle what to do next.

There's a duel in this business!"

Returning home at seven o'clock he did not find Pavel Pavlovitch there, which fact first surprised him, then angered him, then depressed him, and at last, frightened him.

"G.o.d knows, G.o.d knows how it will all end!" he cried; first trying to settle himself on a sofa, and then marching up and down the room, and all the while looking at his watch every other minute.

At length-at about nine o'clock-Pavel Pavlovitch appeared.

"If this man was cunning enough to mean it he could not have managed better in order to put me into a state of nervousness!" thought Velchaninoff, though his heart bounded for joy to see his guest arrive.

To Velchaninoff's cordial inquiry as to why he was so late, Pavel Pavlovitch smiled disagreeably-took a seat with easy familiarity, carelessly threw his c.r.a.pebound hat on a chair,-and made himself perfectly at home. Velchaninoff observed and took stock of the careless manner adopted by his visitor; it was not like yesterday. Velchaninoff then quietly, and in a few words, gave Pavel Pavlovitch an account of what he had done with Liza, of how kindly she had been received, of how good it would be for the child down there; then he led the conversation to the topic of the Pogoryeltseffs, leaving Liza out of the talking altogether, and spoke of how kind the whole family were, of how long he had known them, and so on.

Pavel Pavlovitch listened absently, occasionally looking ironically at his host from under his eyelashes.

"What an enthusiast you are!" he muttered at last, smiling very unpleasantly.

"Hum, you seem in a bad humour to-day!" remarked Velchaninoff with annoyance.

"And why shouldn't I be as wicked as my neighbours?" cried Pavel Pavlovitch suddenly! He said this so abruptly that he gave one the idea that he had pounced out of a corner where he had been lurking, on purpose to make a dash at the first opportunity.

"Oh dear me! do as you like, pray!" laughed Velchaninoff; "I only thought something had put you out, perhaps!"

"So it has," cried Pavel Pavlovitch, as though proud of the fact.

"Well, what was it?"

Pavel Pavlovitch waited a moment or two before he replied.

"Why it's that Stepan Michailovitch Bagantoff of ours-up to his tricks again; he's a shining light among the highest circles of society-he is!"

"Wouldn't he receive you again-or what?"

"N-no! not quite that, this time; on the contrary I was allowed to go in for the first time on record, and I had the honour of musing over his features, too!-but he happened to be a corpse, that's all!"

"What! Bagantoff dead?" cried Velchaninoff, in the greatest astonishment; though there was no particular reason why he _should_ be surprised.

"Yes-my unalterable-six-years-standing friend is dead!-died yesterday at about mid-day, and I knew nothing of it! Perhaps he died just when I called there-who knows? To-morrow is the funeral! he's in his coffin at this moment! Died of nervous fever; and they let me in to see him-they did indeed!-to contemplate his features! I told them I was a great friend-and therefore they allowed me in! A pretty trick he has played me-this dear friend of six years' standing! why-perhaps I came to St. Petersburg _specially for him_!"

"Well-it's hardly worth your while to be angry with him about it, is it-he didn't die on purpose!" said Velchaninoff laughing.

"Oh, but I'm speaking out of pure sympathy-he was a _dear_ friend to me!

oh a _very_ dear friend!"

Pavel Pavlovitch gave a smile of detestable irony and cunning.

"Do you know what, Alexey Ivanovitch," he resumed, "I think you ought to treat me to something,-I have often treated you; I used to be your host every blessed day, sir, at T--, for a whole year! Send for a bottle of wine, do-my throat is so dry!"

"With pleasure-why didn't you say so before! what would you like?"

"Don't say 'you!' say 'we'! we'll drink together of course!" said Pavel Pavlovitch defiantly, but at the same time looking into Velchaninoff's eyes with some concern.

"Shall it be champagne?"

"Of course! it isn't time for vodki yet!"

Velchaninoff rose slowly-rang the bell and gave Mavra the necessary orders.

"We'll drink to this happy meeting of friends after nine years' parting!"

said Pavel Pavlovitch, with a very inappropriate and unnecessary giggle.

"Why, you are the only real, true friend left to me now! Bagantoff is no more! it quite reminds one of the great poet:

"Great Patroclus is no more, Mean Thersites liveth yet!"

-and so on,-don't you know!"

At the name "Thersites" Pavel Pavlovitch touched his own breast.

"I wish you would speak plainly, you pig of a fellow!" said Velchaninoff to himself, "I hate hints!" His own anger was on the rise, and he had long been struggling with his self-restraint.

"Look here,-tell me this, since you consider Bagantoff to have been guilty before you (as I see you do) surely you must be glad that your betrayer is dead? What are you so angry about?"

"Glad! Why should I be glad?"

"I judge by what I should imagine your feelings to be."

"Ha-ha! well, this time you are a little bit in error as to my feelings, for once! A certain sage has said 'my good enemy is dead, but I have a still better one alive! ha-ha!"

"Well but you saw him alive for five years at a stretch,-I should have thought that was enough to contemplate his features in!" said Velchaninoff angrily and contemptuously.

"Yes, but how was I to know then, sir?" snapped Pavel Pavlovitch-jumping out of an ambush once more, as it were,-delighted to be asked a question which he had long awaited; "why, what do you take me for, Alexey Ivanovitch?" at this moment there was in the speaker's face a new expression altogether, transfiguring entirely the hitherto merely disagreeably malicious look upon it.

"Do you mean to say you knew nothing of it?" said Velchaninoff in astonishment.

"How! Didn't know? As if I could have known it and--Oh, you race of Jupiters! you reckon a man to be no better than a dog, and judge of him by your own sentiments. Look here, sir,-there, look at that." So saying, he brought his fist madly down upon the table with a resounding bang, and immediately afterwards looked frightened at his own act.

Velchaninoff's face beamed.

"Listen, Pavel Pavlovitch," he said; "it is entirely the same thing to me whether you knew or did not know all about it. If you did not know, so much the more honourable is it for you; but-I can't understand why you should have selected me for your confidant."

"I wasn't talking of you; don't be angry, it wasn't about you," muttered Pavel Pavlovitch, with his eyes fixed on the ground.