It is settled _for certain_ that Dounia and I are to set off for Petersburg, exactly when I don't know, but very, very soon, possibly in a week.
It all depends on Pyotr Petrovitch who will let us know when he has had time to look round him in Petersburg.
To suit his own arrangements he is anxious to have the ceremony as soon as possible, even before the fast of Our Lady, if it could be managed, or if that is too soon to be ready, immediately after.
Oh, with what happiness I shall press you to my heart!
Dounia is all excitement at the joyful thought of seeing you, she said one day in joke that she would be ready to marry Pyotr Petrovitch for that alone.
She is an angel!
She is not writing anything to you now, and has only told me to write that she has so much, so much to tell you that she is not going to take up her pen now, for a few lines would tell you nothing, and it would only mean upsetting herself; she bids me send you her love and innumerable kisses.
But although we shall be meeting so soon, perhaps I shall send you as much money as I can in a day or two.
Now that everyone has heard that Dounia is to marry Pyotr Petrovitch, my credit has suddenly improved and I know that Afanasy Ivanovitch will trust me now even to seventy-five roubles on the security of my pension, so that perhaps I shall be able to send you twenty-five or even thirty roubles.
I would send you more, but I am uneasy about our travelling expenses; for though Pyotr Petrovitch has been so kind as to undertake part of the expenses of the journey, that is to say, he has taken upon himself the conveyance of our bags and big trunk (which will be conveyed through some acquaintances of his), we must reckon upon some expense on our arrival in Petersburg, where we can't be left without a halfpenny, at least for the first few days.
But we have calculated it all, Dounia and I, to the last penny, and we see that the journey will not cost very much.
It is only ninety versts from us to the railway and we have come to an agreement with a driver we know, so as to be in readiness; and from there Dounia and I can travel quite comfortably third class.
So that I may very likely be able to send to you not twenty-five, but thirty roubles.
But enough; I have covered two sheets already and there is no space left for more; our whole history, but so many events have happened!
And now, my precious Rodya, I embrace you and send you a mother's blessing till we meet.
Love Dounia your sister, Rodya; love her as she loves you and understand that she loves you beyond everything, more than herself.
She is an angel and you, Rodya, you are everything to us--our one hope, our one consolation.
If only you are happy, we shall be happy.
Do you still say your prayers, Rodya, and believe in the mercy of our Creator and our Redeemer?
I am afraid in my heart that you may have been visited by the new spirit of infidelity that is abroad to-day; If it is so, I pray for you.
Remember, dear boy, how in your childhood, when your father was living, you used to lisp your prayers at my knee, and how happy we all were in those days.
Good-bye, till we meet then--I embrace you warmly, warmly, with many kisses.
"Yours till death,
"PULCHERIA RASKOLNIKOV."
Almost from the first, while he read the letter, Raskolnikov's face was wet with tears; but when he finished it, his face was pale and distorted and a bitter, wrathful and malignant smile was on his lips.
He laid his head down on his threadbare dirty pillow and pondered, pondered a long time.
His heart was beating violently, and his brain was in a turmoil.
At last he felt cramped and stifled in the little yellow room that was like a cupboard or a box.
His eyes and his mind craved for space.
He took up his hat and went out, this time without dread of meeting anyone; he had forgotten his dread.
He turned in the direction of the Vassilyevsky Ostrov, walking along Vassilyevsky Prospect, as though hastening on some business, but he walked, as his habit was, without noticing his way, muttering and even speaking aloud to himself, to the astonishment of the passers-by.
Many of them took him to be drunk.
CHAPTER IV
His mother's letter had been a torture to him, but as regards the chief fact in it, he had felt not one moment's hesitation, even whilst he was reading the letter.
The essential question was settled, and irrevocably settled, in his mind:
"Never such a marriage while I am alive and Mr. Luzhin be damned!"
"The thing is perfectly clear," he muttered to himself, with a malignant smile anticipating the triumph of his decision.
"No, mother, no, Dounia, you won't deceive me! and then they apologise for not asking my advice and for taking the decision without me!
I dare say!
They imagine it is arranged now and can't be broken off; but we will see whether it can or not!
A magnificent excuse: 'Pyotr Petrovitch is such a busy man that even his wedding has to be in post-haste, almost by express.'
No, Dounia, I see it all and I know what you want to say to me; and I know too what you were thinking about, when you walked up and down all night, and what your prayers were like before the Holy Mother of Kazan who stands in mother's bedroom.
Bitter is the ascent to Golgotha....
Hm... so it is finally settled; you have determined to marry a sensible business man, Avdotya Romanovna, one who has a fortune (has _already_ made his fortune, that is so much more solid and impressive) a man who holds two government posts and who shares the ideas of our most rising generation, as mother writes, and who _seems_ to be kind, as Dounia herself observes.
That _seems_ beats everything!
And that very Dounia for that very
'_seems_' is marrying him!
Splendid! splendid!
"...
But I should like to know why mother has written to me about 'our most rising generation'?