have gone there so late at night.

Vainly trying to comfort himself with these reflections, the prince
reached the Ismailofsky barracks more dead than alive.

To his consternation the good people at the lodgings had not only heard
nothing of Nastasia, but all came out to look at him as if he were a
marvel of some sort. The whole family, of all ages, surrounded him, and
he was begged to enter. He guessed at once that they knew perfectly well
who he was, and that yesterday ought to have been his wedding-day; and
further that they were dying to ask about the wedding, and especially
about why he should be here now, inquiring for the woman who in all
reasonable human probability might have been expected to be with him in
Pavlofsk.

He satisfied their curiosity, in as few words as possible, with regard
to the wedding, but their exclamations and sighs were so numerous and
sincere that he was obliged to tell the whole story--in a short form,
of course. The advice of all these agitated ladies was that the prince
should go at once and knock at Rogojin's until he was let in: and when
let in insist upon a substantial explanation of everything. If Rogojin
was really not at home, the prince was advised to go to a certain house,
the address of which was given, where lived a German lady, a friend of
Nastasia Philipovna's. It was possible that she might have spent the
night there in her anxiety to conceal herself.

The prince rose from his seat in a condition of mental collapse. The
good ladies reported afterwards that "his pallor was terrible to see,
and his legs seemed to give way underneath him." With difficulty he was
made to understand that his new friends would be glad of his address, in
order to act with him if possible. After a moment's thought he gave the
address of the small hotel, on the stairs of which he had had a fit some
five weeks since. He then set off once more for Rogojin's.

This time they neither opened the door at Rogojin's flat nor at the one
opposite. The prince found the porter with difficulty, but when found,
the man would hardly look at him or answer his questions, pretending
to be busy. Eventually, however, he was persuaded to reply so far as to
state that Rogojin had left the house early in the morning and gone to
Pavlofsk, and that he would not return today at all.

"I shall wait; he may come back this evening."

"He may not be home for a week."

"Then, at all events, he DID sleep here, did he?"