"Oh, he is much more likely not to kill anyone at all," said the prince,
gazing thoughtfully at Evgenie. The latter laughed disagreeably.

"Well, au revoir! Did you observe that he 'willed' a copy of his
confession to Aglaya Ivanovna?"

"Yes, I did; I am thinking of it."

"In connection with 'the ten,' eh?" laughed Evgenie, as he left the
room.

An hour later, towards four o'clock, the prince went into the park.
He had endeavoured to fall asleep, but could not, owing to the painful
beating of his heart.

He had left things quiet and peaceful; the invalid was fast asleep, and
the doctor, who had been called in, had stated that there was no special
danger. Lebedeff, Colia, and Burdovsky were lying down in the sick-room,
ready to take it in turns to watch. There was nothing to fear,
therefore, at home.

But the prince's mental perturbation increased every moment. He wandered
about the park, looking absently around him, and paused in astonishment
when he suddenly found himself in the empty space with the rows of
chairs round it, near the Vauxhall. The look of the place struck him
as dreadful now: so he turned round and went by the path which he had
followed with the Epanchins on the way to the band, until he reached the
green bench which Aglaya had pointed out for their rendezvous. He sat
down on it and suddenly burst into a loud fit of laughter, immediately
followed by a feeling of irritation. His disturbance of mind continued;
he felt that he must go away somewhere, anywhere.

Above his head some little bird sang out, of a sudden; he began to peer
about for it among the leaves. Suddenly the bird darted out of the tree
and away, and instantly he thought of the "fly buzzing about in the
sun's rays" that Hippolyte had talked of; how that it knew its place
and was a participator in the universal life, while he alone was an
"outcast." This picture had impressed him at the time, and he meditated
upon it now. An old, forgotten memory awoke in his brain, and suddenly
burst into clearness and light. It was a recollection of Switzerland,
during the first year of his cure, the very first months. At that time
he had been pretty nearly an idiot still; he could not speak properly,
and had difficulty in understanding when others spoke to him. He climbed
the mountain-side, one sunny morning, and wandered long and aimlessly
with a certain thought in his brain, which would not become clear. Above
him was the blazing sky, below, t