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Yet I didn’t spend three thousand, but fifteen hundred. And the other fifteen hundred I sewed into a little bag. That’s how it was, gentlemen. That’s where I got that money yesterday....” “This is almost miraculous,” murmured Nikolay Parfenovitch.
“How do you mean?” faltered Nikolay Parfenovitch, “when at five o’clock on the same day, from your own confession—” “Damn five o’clock on the same day and my own confession! That’s nothing to do with it now! That money was my own, my own, that is, stolen by me ... not mine, I mean, but stolen by me, and it was fifteen hundred roubles, and I had it on me all the time, all the time ...”
“I should have called it sensible and moral on your part not to have squandered it all,” chuckled Nikolay Parfenovitch, “for after all what does it amount to?” “Why, that I stole it, that’s what it amounts to! Oh, God, you horrify me by not understanding!
They recollected every farthing and included it in the reckoning. Nikolay Parfenovitch hurriedly added up the total. “With this eight hundred you must have had about fifteen hundred at first?” “I suppose so,” snapped Mitya. “How is it they all assert there was much more?” “Let them assert it.” “But you asserted it yourself.” “Yes, I did, too.”
Nikolay Parfenovitch suddenly got up, and informed Mitya firmly that it was his duty and obligation to conduct a minute and thorough search “of your clothes and everything else....” “By all means, gentlemen. I’ll turn out all my pockets, if you like.” And he did, in fact, begin turning out his pockets. “It will be necessary to take off your clothes, too.” “What! Undress? Ugh! Damn it!
We will arrange something. And meanwhile take off your socks.” “You’re not joking? Is that really necessary?” Mitya’s eyes flashed. “We are in no mood for joking,” answered Nikolay Parfenovitch sternly. “Well, if I must—” muttered Mitya, and sitting down on the bed, he took off his socks. He felt unbearably awkward.
“Why, I didn’t notice the blood at all at the time,” answered Mitya. “That’s quite likely. It does happen sometimes.” The prosecutor exchanged glances with Nikolay Parfenovitch. “I simply didn’t notice. You’re quite right there, prosecutor,” Mitya assented suddenly. Next came the account of Mitya’s sudden determination to “step aside” and make way for their happiness.
Nikolay Parfenovitch Nelyudov, the young investigating lawyer, who had only come from Petersburg two months before, was sitting in the next room with the young ladies. People talked about it afterwards and wondered that all the gentlemen should, as though intentionally, on the evening of “the crime” have been gathered together at the house of the executive authority.
Forgive me, gentlemen, I’m making such an outcry because I’ve had that thought in my mind so lately, only the day before yesterday, that night when I was having all that bother with Lyagavy, and afterwards yesterday, all day yesterday, I remember, till that happened ...” “Till what happened?” put in Nikolay Parfenovitch inquisitively, but Mitya did not hear it.
Nikolay Parfenovitch, moreover, in the presence of the peasant witnesses, passed his fingers along the collar, the cuffs, and all the seams of the coat and trousers, obviously looking for something—money, of course. He didn’t even hide from Mitya his suspicion that he was capable of sewing money up in his clothes. “He treats me not as an officer but as a thief,” Mitya muttered to himself.
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