v's evidence was a
failure, too, but from quite a different reason. He appeared in ragged and
dirty clothes, muddy boots, and in spite of the vigilance and expert
observation of the police officers, he turned out to be hopelessly drunk.
On being asked about Mitya's attack upon him, he refused to answer.

"God bless him. Ilusha told me not to. God will make it up to me yonder."

"Who told you not to tell? Of whom are you talking?"

"Ilusha, my little son. 'Father, father, how he insulted you!' He said
that at the stone. Now he is dying...."

The captain suddenly began sobbing, and plumped down on his knees before
the President. He was hurriedly led away amidst the laughter of the
public. The effect prepared by the prosecutor did not come off at all.

Fetyukovitch went on making the most of every opportunity, and amazed
people more and more by his minute knowledge of the case. Thus, for
example, Trifon Borissovitch made a great impression, of course, very
prejudicial to Mitya. He calculated almost on his fingers that on his
first visit to Mokroe, Mitya must have spent three thousand roubles, "or
very little less. Just think what he squandered on those gypsy girls
alone! And as for our lousy peasants, it wasn't a case of flinging half a
rouble in the street, he made them presents of twenty-five roubles each,
at least, he didn't give them less. And what a lot of money was simply
stolen from him! And if any one did steal, he did not leave a receipt. How
could one catch the thief when he was flinging his money away all the
time? Our peasants are robbers, you know; they have no care for their
souls. And the way he went on with the girls, our village girls! They're
completely set up since then, I tell you, they used to be poor." He
recalled, in fact, every item of expense and added it all up. So the
theory that only fifteen hundred had been spent and the rest had been put
aside in a little bag seemed inconceivable.

"I saw three thousand as clear as a penny in his hands, I saw it with my
own eyes; I should think I ought to know how to reckon money," cried
Trifon Borissovitch, doing his best to satisfy "his betters."

When Fetyukovitch had to cross-examine him, he scarcely tried to refute
his evidence, but began asking him about an incident at the first carousal
at Mokroe, a month before the arrest, when Timofey and another peasant
called Akim had picked up on the floor in the passage a hundred roubles
dropped by Mitya whe