Mitya jumped back into the garden and bent over the fallen man. In Mityas hands was a brass pestle, and he ung it mechanically in the grass. The pestle fell two paces from Grigory, not in the grass but on the path, in a most conspicuous place. For some seconds he examined the prostrate gure before him. The old mans head was covered with blood. Mitya put out his hand and began feeling it. He remembered afterwards clearly, that he had been awfully anxious to make sure whether he had broken the old mans skull, or simply stunned him with the pestle. But the blood was owing horribly; and in a moment Mityas ngers were drenched with the hot stream. He remembered taking out of his pocket the clean white handkerchief with which he had provided himself for his visit to Madame Hohlakov, and putting it to the old mans head, senselessly trying to wipe the blood from his face and temples. But the handkerchief was instantly soaked with blood.

Good heavens! what am I doing it for? thought Mitya, suddenly pulling himself together. If I have broken his skull, how can I nd out now? And what difference does it make now? he added, hopelessly. If Ive killed him, Ive killed him.... Youve come to grief, old man, so there you must lie! he said aloud. And suddenly turning to the fence, he vaulted over it into the lane and fell to runningthe handkerchief soaked with blood he held, crushed up in his right st, and as he ran he thrust it into the back pocket of his coat. He ran headlong, and the few passers-by who met him in the dark, in the streets, remembered afterwards that they had met a man running that night. He ew back again to the widow Morozovs house.

Immediately after he had left it that evening, Fenya had rushed to the chief porter, Nazar Ivanovitch, and besought him, for Christs sake, not to let the captain in again to-day or to-morrow. Nazar Ivanovitch promised, but went upstairs to his mistress who had suddenly sent for him, and meeting his nephew, a boy of twenty, who had recently come from the country, on the way up told him to take his place, but forgot to mention the captain. Mitya, running up to the gate, knocked. The lad instantly recognized him, for Mitya had more than once tipped him. Opening the gate at once, he let him in, and hastened to inform him with a good-humored smile that Agrafena Alexandrovna is not at home now, you know. Where is she then, Prohor? asked Mitya, stopping short. She set off this evening, some two hours ago, with Timofey, to Mokroe. What for? cried Mitya. That I cant say. To see some ofcer. Some one invited her and horses were sent to fetch her. Mitya left him, and ran like a madman to Fenya.

Chapter V. A Sudden Resolution She was sitting in the kitchen with her grandmother; they were both just going to bed. Relying on Nazar Ivanovitch, they had not locked themselves in. Mitya ran in, pounced on Fenya and seized her by the throat. Speak at once! Where is she? With whom is she now, at Mokroe? he roared furiously. Both the women squealed. Aie! Ill tell you. Aie! Dmitri Fyodorovitch, darling, Ill tell you everything directly, I wont hide anything, gabbled Fenya, frightened to death; shes gone to Mokroe, to her ofcer. What ofcer? roared Mitya. To her ofcer, the same one she used to know, the one who threw her over ve years ago, cackled Fenya, as fast as she could