"Good evening.You're here, too! How glad I am to find you here, too! Gentlemen, gentlemen, I- " (He addressed the Polish gentleman with the pipe again, evidently taking him for the most important person present.) "I flew here....I wanted to spend my last day, my last hour in this room, in this very room...where I, too, adored...my queen....Forgive me, Panie," he cried wildly, "I flew here and vowed- Oh, don't be afraid, it's my last night! Let's drink to our good understanding.They'll bring the wine at once....Ibrought this with me." (Something made him pull out his bundle of notes.) "Allow me, panie! I want to have music, singing, a revel, as we had before.But the worm, the unnecessary worm, will crawl away, and there'll be no more of him.I will commemorate my day of joy on my last night."He was almost choking.There was so much, so much he wanted to say, but strange exclamations were all that came from his lips.The Pole gazed fixedly at him, at the bundle of notes in his hand;looked at Grushenka, and was in evident perplexity.
"If my suverin lady is permitting- " he was beginning.
"What does 'suverin' mean? 'Sovereign,' I suppose?" interrupted Grushenka."I can't help laughing at you, the way you talk.Sit down, Mitya, what are you talking about? Don't frighten us, please.
You won't frighten us, will you? If you won't, I am glad to see you...""Me, me frighten you?" cried Mitya, flinging up his hands."Oh, pass me by, go your way, I won't hinder you!..."And suddenly he surprised them all, and no doubt himself as well, by flinging himself on a chair, and bursting into tears, turning his head away to the opposite wall, while his arms clasped the back of the chair tight, as though embracing it.
"Come, come, what a fellow you are!" cried Grushenka reproachfully."That's just how he comes to see me- he begins talking, and I can't make out what he means.He cried like that once before, and now he's crying again! It's shamefull Why are you crying? As though you had anything to cry for!" she added enigmatically, emphasising each word with some irritability.
"I...I'm not crying....Well, good evening!" He instantly turned round in his chair, and suddenly laughed, not his abrupt wooden laugh, but a long, quivering, inaudible nervous laugh.
"Well, there you are again....Come, cheer up, cheer up!"Grushenka said to him persuasively."I'm very glad you've come, very glad, Mitya, do you hear, I'm very glad! I want him to stay here with us," she said peremptorily, addressing the whole company, though her words were obviously meant for the man sitting on the sofa.
"I wish it, I wish it! And if he goes away I shall go, too!" she added with flashing eyes.
"What my queen commands is law!" pronounced the Pole, gallantly kissing Grushenka's hand."I beg you, panie, to join our company,"he added politely, addressing Mitya.
Mitya was jumping up with the obvious intention of delivering another tirade, but the words did not come.
"Let's drink, Panie," he blurted out instead of ****** a speech.
Everyone laughed.
"Good heavens! I thought he was going to begin again!" Grushenka exclaimed nervously."Do you hear, Mitya," she went on insistently, "don't prance about, but it's nice you've brought the champagne.Iwant some myself, and I can't bear liqueurs.And best of all, you've come yourself.We were fearfully dull here....You've come for a spree again, I suppose? But put your money in your pocket.Where did you get such a lot?"Mitya had been, all this time, holding in his hand the crumpled bundle of notes on which the eyes of all, especially of the Poles, were fixed.In confusion he thrust them hurriedly into his pocket.
He flushed.At that moment the innkeeper brought in an uncorked bottle of champagne, and glasses on a tray.Mitya snatched up the bottle, but he was so bewildered that he did not know what to do with it.Kalgonov took it from him and poured out the champagne.
"Another! Another bottle!" Mitya cried to the inn-keeper, and, forgetting to clink glasses with the Pole whom he had so solemnly invited to drink to their good understanding, he drank off his glass without waiting for anyone else.His whole countenance suddenly changed.The solemn and tragic expression with which he had entered vanished completely, and a look of something childlike came into his face.He seemed to have become suddenly gentle and subdued.He looked shyly and happily at everyone, with a continual nervous little laugh, and the blissful expression of a dog who has done wrong, been punished, and forgiven.He seemed to have forgotten everything, and was looking round at everyone with a childlike smile of delight.
He looked at Grushenka, laughing continually, and bringing his chair close up to her.By degrees he had gained some idea of the two Poles, though he had formed no definite conception of them yet.
The Pole on the sofa struck him by his dignified demeanour and his Polish accent; and, above all, by his pipe."Well, what of it? It's a good thing he's smoking a pipe," he reflected.The Pole's puffy, middle-aged face, with its tiny nose and two very thin, pointed, dyed and impudent-looking moustaches, had not so far roused the faintest doubts in Mitya.He was not even particularly struck by the Pole's absurd wig made in Siberia, with love-locks foolishly combed forward over the temples."I suppose it's all right since he wears a wig," he went on, musing blissfully.The other, younger Pole, who was staring insolently and defiantly at the company and listening to the conversation with silent contempt, still only impressed Mitya by his great height, which was in striking contrast to the Pole on the sofa."If he stood up he'd be six foot three." The thought flitted through Mitya's mind.It occurred to him, too, that this Pole must be the friend of the other, as it were, a "bodyguard," and no doubt the big Pole was at the disposal of the little Pole with the pipe.But this all seemed to Mitya perfectly right and not to be questioned.
