out some few
explanations. Yet we feel that we ought to limit ourselves to the simple
record of facts, without much attempt at explanation, for a very patent
reason: because we ourselves have the greatest possible difficulty in
accounting for the facts to be recorded. Such a statement on our part
may appear strange to the reader. How is anyone to tell a story which he
cannot understand himself? In order to keep clear of a false position,
we had perhaps better give an example of what we mean; and probably the
intelligent reader will soon understand the difficulty. More especially
are we inclined to take this course since the example will constitute a
distinct march forward of our story, and will not hinder the progress of
the events remaining to be recorded.

During the next fortnight--that is, through the early part of July--the
history of our hero was circulated in the form of strange, diverting,
most unlikely-sounding stories, which passed from mouth to mouth,
through the streets and villas adjoining those inhabited by Lebedeff,
Ptitsin, Nastasia Philipovna and the Epanchins; in fact, pretty
well through the whole town and its environs. All society--both the
inhabitants of the place and those who came down of an evening for the
music--had got hold of one and the same story, in a thousand varieties
of detail--as to how a certain young prince had raised a terrible
scandal in a most respectable household, had thrown over a daughter of
the family, to whom he was engaged, and had been captured by a woman of
shady reputation whom he was determined to marry at once--breaking off
all old ties for the satisfaction of his insane idea; and, in spite of
the public indignation roused by his action, the marriage was to take
place in Pavlofsk openly and publicly, and the prince had announced his
intention of going through with it with head erect and looking the whole
world in the face. The story was so artfully adorned with scandalous
details, and persons of so great eminence and importance were
apparently mixed up in it, while, at the same time, the evidence was so
circumstantial, that it was no wonder the matter gave food for plenty of
curiosity and gossip.

According to the reports of the most talented gossip-mongers--those who,
in every class of society, are always in haste to explain every event
to their neighbours--the young gentleman concerned was of good family--a
prince--fairly rich--weak of intellect, but a democrat and a