llow. The prince shuddered.

"Let's go," said Rogojin, touching his shoulder. They left the alcove
and sat down in the two chairs they had occupied before, opposite to one
another. The prince trembled more and more violently, and never took his
questioning eyes off Rogojin's face.

"I see you are shuddering, Lef Nicolaievitch," said the latter, at
length, "almost as you did once in Moscow, before your fit; don't you
remember? I don't know what I shall do with you--"

The prince bent forward to listen, putting all the strain he could
muster upon his understanding in order to take in what Rogojin said, and
continuing to gaze at the latter's face.

"Was it you?" he muttered, at last, motioning with his head towards the
curtain.

"Yes, it was I," whispered Rogojin, looking down.

Neither spoke for five minutes.

"Because, you know," Rogojin recommenced, as though continuing a former
sentence, "if you were ill now, or had a fit, or screamed, or anything,
they might hear it in the yard, or even in the street, and guess that
someone was passing the night in the house. They would all come and
knock and want to come in, because they know I am not at home. I didn't
light a candle for the same reason. When I am not here--for two or
three days at a time, now and then--no one comes in to tidy the house
or anything; those are my orders. So that I want them to not know we are
spending the night here--"

"Wait," interrupted the prince. "I asked both the porter and the woman
whether Nastasia Philipovna had spent last night in the house; so they
knew--"

"I know you asked. I told them that she had called in for ten minutes,
and then gone straight back to Pavlofsk. No one knows she slept here.
Last night we came in just as carefully as you and I did today. I
thought as I came along with her that she would not like to creep in so
secretly, but I was quite wrong. She whispered, and walked on tip-toe;
she carried her skirt over her arm, so that it shouldn't rustle, and
she held up her finger at me on the stairs, so that I shouldn't make
a noise--it was you she was afraid of. She was mad with terror in the
train, and she begged me to bring her to this house. I thought of taking
her to her rooms at the Ismailofsky barracks first; but she wouldn't
hear of it. She said, 'No--not there; he'll find me out at once there.
Take me to your own house, where you can hide me, and tomorrow we'll set
off for Moscow.' Thence she would go to Orel,