Demons

It goes without saying that she was inconvenienced that same morning, as having been the new mother's midwife; but they found out little: she recounted very sensibly and coolly everything she herself had seen and heard at Shatov's, but concerning the story that had gone on she made plain that she knew and understood nothing of it.

One can imagine what a hubbub arose all over town. A new "story," another killing! But there was something else here now: it was becoming clear that there indeed existed a secret society of killers, of arsonist-revolutionaries, of rebels. The terrible death of Liza, the murder of Stavrogin's wife, Stavrogin himself, the arson, the ball for the governesses, the licentiousness surrounding Yulia Mikhailovna... People even insisted on seeing some mystery in Stepan Trofimovich's disappearance. There was a great, great deal of whispering about Nikolai Vsevolodovich. Towards the end of the day they also learned of Pyotr Stepanovich's absence, and, strangely, he was talked about least of all. What was talked about most of all that day was "the senator."[206] A crowd stood almost all morning by Filippov's house. The authorities were indeed led astray by Kirillov's note. They believed both in Kirillov's killing of Shatov and in the "murderer's" suicide. However, if the authorities were at a loss, they were not entirely so. The word "park," for instance, so vaguely put into Kirillov's note, did not throw anyone off, as Pyotr Stepanovich had reckoned. The police rushed at once to Skvoreshniki, and not only because there is a park there, as there is not anywhere else in our town, but also even following some sort of instinct, since all the horrors of the recent days were either directly or partially co

He could not stand it. What happened to him was something that even Pyotr Stepanovich had begun to anticipate towards the end. Entrusted to Tolkachenko, and then to Erkel, he spent the whole of the next day lying in bed, apparently placid, his face turned to the wall, and without saying a word, barely answering when spoken to. He thus learned nothing throughout the day of what was happening in town. But Tolkachenko, who learned everything that was happening, took it into his head towards evening to drop his role with Lyamshin and absent himself from our town to the district capital—that is, simply to run away: truly, they lost their minds, as Erkel had prophesied about them all. I will note incidentally that Liputin also disappeared from town that same day, before noon. But with this one it somehow happened that his disappearance became known to the authorities only the next day, towards evening, when his family, all frightened by his absence but silent out of fear, were directly accosted with questions. But to continue about Lyamshin. As soon as he was left alone (Erkel, relying on Tolkachenko, had gone home even earlier), he at once ran out of the house and, of course, very soon learned how matters stood. Without even stopping at home, he took to his heels and ran wherever his legs would carry him. But the night was so dark, and the undertaking so terrible and toilsome, that having gone down two or three streets, he returned home and locked himself in for the whole night. It seems he made an attempt at suicide towards morning; but nothing came of it. He sat locked in until almost noon, however, and then— suddenly ran to the authorities. It is said that he crawled on his knees, sobbed and shrieked, kissed the floor, shouting that he was unworthy even to kiss the boots of the dignitaries who stood before him. He was calmed down and even treated benignly. The interrogation lasted, they say, about three hours. He declared everything, everything, told the i