Part 4 · Chapter 3

The truth was, right up until the very end, he honestly never expected things to go down like this. He's been totally overbearing, seriously, never thinking two women with nothing could get away from his grip.

That feeling got even stronger because of his ego and how full of himself he was - like, ridiculously so. Pyotr Petrovitch, who’d clawed his way up from nothing, was super into admiring himself, thought he was the smartest person ever, and sometimes even flexed in the mirror when he was alone.

But what he valued most of all was the money he’d earned through hard work and all sorts of schemes. That money made him feel like he was on the same level as everyone who’s been above him before.

When he’s been seriously reminding Dounia that he decided to take her in despite what people were saying, Pyotr Petrovitch was being totally genuine and, honestly, felt genuinely ticked off at such "major disrespect. But when he made Dounia his offer, he knew the rumors were totally bogus.

Marfa Petrovna had already shut them down, and everyone in town believed her and was defending Dounia. He wouldn’t have denied that he knew all that at the time. Still, he thought highly of his own decision to lift Dounia up and thought it was kind of a heroic move.

When he talked about it with Dounia, he let slip the feeling he cherished and admired, and he couldn’t understand why others didn’t feel the same way. He’s gone to see Raskolnikov feeling like a benefactor about to get thanked for doing something good and get some sweet praise.

And as he headed downstairs now, he felt seriously wronged and unappreciated.

Dounia was totally essential to him; life without her was unthinkable. For years, he’s had these vivid dreams about getting married, but he just kept waiting and building up his money.

He’d obsess over this image - a girl who was good, poor (she had to be poor), really young, super pretty, from a good family with a good education, really shy, who’s been through a lot and is totally humbled by him, someone who would worship him, admire only him, and look up to him her whole life as her savior.

He’d imagined so many scenes, so many romantic moments, when he was done with work! And now, the dream he’s had for years was almost real; he was impressed by Avdotya Romanovna's beauty and education, her helpless situation was a huge draw. He’s found even more than he hoped for.

Here was a girl with pride, character, virtue, and an education and background even better than his (he felt that), and this girl would be totally grateful for his generosity, would humble herself before him, and he’s have complete, total power over her! ...

Not long ago, he’d also, after a lot of thought and hesitation, made a big change in his career and was now getting into a wider range of business. With this change, his dreams of moving up in society seemed likely to come true. ... He was, basically, determined to try his luck in Petersburg.

He knew that women could really move things. The charm of a smart, virtuous, well-educated woman could make his path easier, attract people to him, and make him look amazing. And now, everything was ruined!

This sudden, awful breakup hit him like a lightning bolt; it felt like a sick joke, a total absurdity. He’d only been a little bit bossy, hadn’t even gotten a chance to say what he wanted, just made a joke, got carried away - and it ended so seriously.

And, of course, he did care about Dounia in his own way; he already had her in his dreams - and then, all of a sudden! No! The next day, the very next day, it had to be fixed, smoothed over, settled. Above all, he had to crush that clueless guy who was the reason for it all.

With a bad feeling, he couldn't help remembering Razumihin, but he quickly reassured himself about that; it was like that guy could even be on his level! The guy he really worried about was Svidrigaïlov... He had a lot to deal with, seriously.

"No, I’m more to blame than anyone!" said Dounia, hugging and kissing her mom. "I was tempted by his money, but on my honor, brother, I had no idea he was such a trashy guy. If I’d seen through him before, nothing would have tempted me! Don’t blame me!"

"God saved us! God saved us!" muttered Pulcheria Alexandrovna, but almost without realizing it, like she could barely grasp what had happened.

They were all relieved, and in five minutes, they were laughing. Only now and then did Dounia turn pale and frown, remembering what had gone down. Pulcheria Alexandrovna was surprised to find that she was glad, too; she’d only thought a breakup with Luzhin was a disaster that morning.

Razumihin was thrilled. He didn’t dare express his joy fully yet, but he was buzzing with excitement, like a ton of weight had lifted off his heart. Now he had the right to dedicate his life to them, to help them out... Anything could happen now!

But he was scared to think about more possibilities and didn’t want to let his imagination run wild. But Raskolnikov just sat there, almost sulky and uninterested. Even though he’d been the most insistent about getting rid of Luzhin, he seemed the least concerned about what had happened.

Dounia couldn’t help thinking that he was still mad at her, and Pulcheria Alexandrovna watched him nervously.

"What did Svidrigaïlov say to you?" asked Dounia, approaching him.

"Yes, yes !" cried Pulcheria Alexandrovna.

Raskolnikov looked up.

"He wants to give you ten thousand rubles and wants to see you, right here in front of me."

"See her? Absolutely not!" cried Pulcheria Alexandrovna. "And how dare he offer her money!"

Then Raskolnikov repeated (kind of dryly) his conversation with Svidrigaïlov, leaving out the whole thing about Marfa Petrovna’s ghostly visits - he just wanted to avoid a long, drawn-out conversation.

"What did you tell him?" asked Dounia.

"At first, I told him I wouldnn't be a messenger. Then he said he’d do everything he could to see you himself, without my help. He swore his feelings for you were just a phase, that he didn’t feel anything for you anymore. He doesn’t want you to marry Luzhin..."

"his story was pretty messed up, honestly."

"What do you make of him, Rodya? What’s your gut feeling?"

"I’m honestly confused by him. He’s offering you ten thousand, but claims he’s not doing so well. He says he’s leaving, and ten minutes later, he forgets he said it. Then he says he’s getting married and already picked out a girl..."

There’s definitely a reason behind all this, probably not a good one. But it’s weird how clumsy he is about it if he’s planning something against you... Of course, I turned down the money for you, one time for all. He’s just really strange, overall... You’d almost think he was crazy.

"But I could be wrong; maybe it’s just an act. Marfa Petrovna’s death really seemed to shake him up."

"God rest her soul," exclaimed Pulcheria Alexandrovna. "I’m going to pray for her forever! Where would we be now, Dounia, without those three thousand? It’s like a gift from heaven!"

"Why, Rodya, this morning we had only three rubles in our pocket, and Dounia and I were about to pawn her watch to avoid borrowing from that guy until he offered help."

Dounia seemed really thrown by Svidrigaïlov’s offer. She just stood there, lost in thought.

"He’s got some seriously messed-up plan," she whispered to herself, almost shuddering.

Raskolnikov noticed how terrified she was.

"I’m guessing I’ll have to see him again," he said to Dounia.

"We’ll keep an eye on him! I’ll track him down!" cried Razumihin, excitedly. "I won’t lose sight of him. Rodya gave me permission. He told me himself just now. ‘Take care of my sister.’ Will you give me permission, too, Avdotya Romanovna?"

Dounia smiled and held out her hand, but the worry didn’t leave her face. Pulcheria Alexandrovna looked at her nervously, but those three thousand rubles definitely seemed to have a calming effect.

About fifteen minutes later, they were all chatting animatedly. Even Raskolnikov listened carefully for a while, though he didn’t say much. Razumihin was doing most of the talking.

"And why, why would you leave?" he went on, super enthusiastic.

"And what are you even going to do in some tiny town? The best thing is, you’re all here together, and you need each other - you really do need each other, trust me. At least for a while... Take me into partnership, and I promise we’ll come up with a brilliant idea. Listen!"

I’ll explain the whole project in detail! It all popped into my head this morning, before anything even happened... You know what; I have an uncle, I need to introduce you to him (a really accommodating and respectable old guy).

This uncle has a thousand rubles, and he lives off his pension, so he doesn’t need the money. For the last two years, he’s been bugging me to borrow it from him and pay him six percent interest. I know what that means; he just wants to help me.

"Last year, I didn’t need it, but this year, I decided to borrow it as soon as he showed up. Then you lend me another thousand of your three, and we’ll have enough to start. So we’ll go into partnership, and what are we going to do?"

Then Razumihin started explaining his plan, and he laid out how most publishers and booksellers have no clue what they’re selling, which is why they're usually not very good. He explained that decent publications actually pay well and can make a profit, sometimes a big one.

Razumihin had actually been dreaming of starting his own publishing company. For the past couple of years, he’s been working in publishing offices and knows three European languages well.

Though he told Raskolnikov six days before that he was "weak" in German, trying to get him to take half of his translation and half the payment for it. He lied then, and Raskolnikov knew he was lying.

"Seriously, why would we let this opportunity pass us by when we’ve got one of the main ingredients for success - money! Razumihin exclaimed excitedly. "Yeah, there’s gonna be a ton of work, but we’ll put in the effort - you, Avdotya Romanovna, I, Rodion..."

You can make a killer profit on some books these days! And the best part is we’ll know exactly what needs translating, and we’ll be translating, publishing, and learning all at once. I can be a huge help because I have experience.

For almost two years, I’ve been running around among publishers, and now I know every detail of their business. You don’t need to be a saint to make pots, trust me! Why, why would we let this chance slip!

I know - and I’m keeping it on the DL - two or three books that you could easily make a hundred rubles just by thinking of translating and publishing them. Seriously, I wouldn’t take five hundred for the idea of one of them. And what do you think?

"If I told a publisher, I bet they’d freak - they’re so clueless! And as for the business side, printing, paper, selling, you can trust me on that, I know my way around. We’ll start small and grow from there. At the very least, it’s gonna get us by and we’ll get our money back."

Dounia’s eyes were sparkling.

"I’m loving what you’re saying, Dmitri Prokofitch!" she said.

"I don’t know anything about it, of course," Pulcheria Alexandrovna chimed in, "it might be a good idea, but who knows? It’s new and untested. Of course, we’re gonna have to stay here for a bit."

She glanced at Rodya.

"What do you think, brother?" Dounia asked.

"I think he’s got a really good idea," he replied. "Of course, it’s too early to dream of a big publishing firm, but we could definitely put out five or six books and be sure of success. I know of one book myself that would be a guaranteed hit. And there’s no doubt he can handle it either."

"He knows the business... But we can talk it over later..."

"Let’s go! Razumihin shouted. "Hold up, there’s an apartment here in this building, owned by the same person. It’s a separate apartment, not connected to these rooms. It’s furnished, rent is reasonable, three rooms. Suppose you guys take it to start."

"I’ll pawn my watch tomorrow and get you the money, and everything can be sorted then. You all three can live together, and Rodya will be with you. But where are you heading off to, Rodya?"

"What, Rodya, you’re already leaving?" Pulcheria Alexandrovna asked in surprise.

"At this hour?" Razumihin exclaimed.

Dounia looked at her brother with disbelief. He had his cap in his hand, he was getting ready to leave them.

"You’d think I was burying you or saying goodbye forever," he said a little strangely.

He tried to smile, but it didn’t quite work.

"But who knows, maybe this is the last time we’ll see each other..." he let slip accidentally.

It was what he was thinking, and it somehow came out loud.

"What’s wrong with you?" his mother asked.

"Where are you going, Rodya?" Dounia asked, sounding a bit confused.

"Oh, I kinda have to..." he answered vaguely, as if unsure what to say.

But there was a look of determination in his pale face.

"I meant to say... like, on my way here... I was gonna tell you, Mom, and you, Dounia, that it would be better if we all went our separate ways for a bit. I’m not feeling good, I’m not at peace... I’ll come back later, I'll come on my own... when I can. I’m thinking about you, I love you..."

Just leave me, leave me alone. I decided this even before... I’m totally set on it. Whatever happens to me, whether I crash and burn or not, I need to be by myself. Forget about me, it's better. Don’t ask me what’s going on. When I can, I’ll come back or... I’ll call you.

"Maybe things will work out, but right now, if you love me, you gotta let me go... or I’m gonna start to hate you, I can feel it... Bye!"

"Oh my God!" cried Pulcheria Alexandrovna.

Both his mom and his sister were seriously freaked out. Razumihin was, too.

"Rodya, Rodya, please come back to us! Let’s go back to how things were!" cried his poor mom.

He turned slowly to the door and slowly walked out of the room. Dounia caught up to him.

"Brother, what are you doing to Mom?" she whispered, her eyes flashing with anger.

He just looked at her blankly.

"It’s fine, I’ll come back... I’m coming," he muttered quietly, like he wasn't even sure what he was saying, and he went out of the room.

"Selfish jerk!" cried Dounia.

"He’s not right in the head, but he’s not heartless. He’s losing it! Don’t you see? You’re heartless after that! Razumihin whispered in her ear, squeezing her hand tightly. "I’ll be right back," he shouted to his horrified mom, and he ran out of the room.

Raskolnikov was waiting for him at the end of the hallway.

"I knew you’d chase after me," he said. "Go back to them - be with them... be with them tomorrow and always... I... maybe I’ll come back... if I can. Bye."

And without shaking his hand, he walked away.

"But where are you going? What are you doing? What’s wrong with you? How can you be like this?" Razumihin muttered, totally lost.

Raskolnikov stopped again.

"Once and for all, don’t ask me about anything. I have nothing to tell you. Don’t come to see me. Maybe I’ll come back here... Just leave me, but don’t leave them. Do you get it?"

It was dark in the hallway, they were standing near the lamp. For a minute they stared at each other in silence. Razumihin remembered that minute forever. Raskolnikov’s intense, burning eyes seemed to pierce deeper every second, right into his soul, into his mind. Suddenly Razumihin jumped.

Something weird passed between them... some idea, some hint, as it were, slipped through... something awful, hideous, and suddenly understood by both of them... Razumihin turned pale.

"Do you understand now?" said Raskolnikov, his face twitching nervously. "Go back, go to them," he said suddenly, and turning quickly, he left the house.

I won’t describe how Razumihin went back to the ladies, how he calmed them down, how he insisted that Rodya needed rest, that Rodya was sure to come back, that he’d come every day, that he was really upset, that he shouldn’t be pushed, that he, Razumihin, would watch over him, would get him a doctor, the best doctor, a consultation...

Basically, from that evening Razumihin took his place with them as a son and a brother.