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Updated: May 21, 2025
"I assure you that maman's doing it on purpose," Liza thought necessary to explain to Shatov. "She's really heard of Shakespeare. I read her the first act of Othello myself. But she's in great pain now. Maman, listen, it's striking twelve, it's time you took your medicine." "The doctor's come," a maid-servant announced at the door.
Bill Shatov, formerly organizer of the I.W.W., who is commissar of police for Petrograd and also commissar for one of the northern armies, introduced me to Madame Lelina, and accompanied me the first day on our visits.
What's more I did not even yet understand exactly what I had to arrange; an interview, but what sort of an interview? And how could I bring them together? My only hope was Shatov, though I could be sure that he wouldn't help me in any way. But all the same, I hurried to him. I did not find him at home till past seven o'clock that evening.
This was why she decided at once to go when Shatov came to fetch her, though she was tired out, as she had been hard at work at a confinement ah! the night before. She had always been convinced that "a wretched creature like Shatov was capable of any political baseness," but the arrival of Marya Ignatyevna put things in a different light.
"He died at seven o'clock this evening, or rather, at seven o'clock yesterday evening, and now it's one o'clock." "You have killed him!... And I foresaw it yesterday!" "No doubt you did! With this revolver here." What was there to foresee in that? I made that as plain as possible over and over again. Shatov was meaning to betray us; I was watching him, and it could not be left like that.
How cramped you are here. How cold it is!" "Oh, I'll get some logs for the fire directly, some logs... I've got logs." Shatov was all astir. "Logs... that is... but I'll get tea directly," he waved his hand as though with desperate determination and snatched up his cap. "Where are you going? So you've no tea in the house?"
"By now, she must be with my wife... don't keep me... it's not my fault you are a fool." "That's a lie, I am not a fool. Excuse me, I really can't..." And utterly distraught he began shutting the casement again for the third time, but Shatov gave such a yell that he put his head out again. "But this is simply an unprovoked assault! What do you want of me, what is it, what is it, formulate it?
Shatov did not bow or offer him his hand, but at once pronounced hurriedly in a loud voice: "Well, where have you put the spade, and haven't you another lantern? You needn't be afraid, there's absolutely no one here, and they wouldn't hear at Skvoreshniki now if we fired a cannon here. This is the place, here this very spot."
"You are all half-hearted chickens," he observed to Virginsky in joke. "All who are like you, though in you, Virginsky, I have not observed that narrow-mindedness I found in Petersburg, chez ces siminaristes. But you're a half-hatched chicken all the same. Shatov would give anything to hatch out, but he's half-hatched too." "And I?" Liputin inquired.
THE CATASTROPHE WITH Liza and the death of Marya Timofyevna made an overwhelming impression on Shatov. I have already mentioned that that morning I met him in passing; he seemed to me not himself. He went in the morning to look at the corpses, but as far as I know gave no evidence of any sort that morning.
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