"Our fellows" were excited.
The events of the previous night had made a great impression on them, and I fancy they were in a panic.
The simple disorderliness in which they had so zealously and systematically taken part had ended in a way they had not expected.
The fire in the night, the murder of the Lebyadkins, the savage brutality of the crowd with Liza, had been a series of surprises which they had not anticipated in their programme.
They hotly accused the hand that had guided them of despotism and duplicity.
In fact, while they were waiting for Pyotr Stepanovitch they worked each other up to such a point that they resolved again to ask him for a definite explanation, and if he evaded again, as he had done before, to dissolve the quintet and to found instead a new secret society "for the propaganda of ideas" and on their own initiative on the basis of democracy and equality.
Liputin, Shigalov, and the authority on the peasantry supported this plan; Lyamshin said nothing, though he looked approving.
Virginsky hesitated and wanted to hear Pyotr Stepanovitch first.
It was decided to hear Pyotr Stepanovitch, but still he did not come; such casualness added fuel to the flames.
Erkel was absolutely silent and did nothing but order the tea, which he brought from his landladies in glasses on a tray, not bringing in the samovar nor allowing the servant to enter.
Pyotr Stepanovitch did not turn up till half-past eight.
With rapid steps he went up to the circular table before the sofa round which the company were seated; he kept his cap in his hand and refused tea.
He looked angry, severe, and supercilious.
He must have observed at once from their faces that they were "mutinous."
"Before I open my mouth, you've got something hidden; out with it."
Liputin began "in the name of all," and declared in a voice quivering with resentment "that if things were going on like that they might as well blow their brains out."
Oh, they were not at all afraid to blow their brains out, they were quite ready to, in fact, but only to serve the common cause (a general movement of approbation). So he must be more open with them so that they might always know beforehand, "or else what would things be coming to?" (Again a stir and some guttural sounds.) To behave like this was humiliating and dangerous. "We don't say so because we are afraid, but if one acts and the rest are only pawns, then one would blunder and all would be lost." (Exclamations. "Yes, yes."
General approval.)
"Damn it all, what do you want?"
"What connection is there between the common cause and the petty intrigues of Mr. Stavrogin?" cried Liputin, boiling over.
"Suppose he is in some mysterious relation to the centre, if that legendary centre really exists at all, it's no concern of ours.
And meantime a murder has been committed, the police have been roused; if they follow the thread they may find what it starts from."
"If Stavrogin and you are caught, we shall be caught too," added the authority on the peasantry.
"And to no good purpose for the common cause," Virginsky concluded despondently.
"What nonsense!
The murder is a chance crime; it was committed by Fedka for the sake of robbery."
"H'm! Strange coincidence, though," said Liputin, wriggling.
"And if you will have it, it's all through you."
"Through us?"
"In the first place, you, Liputin, had a share in the intrigue yourself; and the second chief point is, you were ordered to get Lebyadkin away and given money to do it; and what did you do?
If you'd got him away nothing would have happened."
"But wasn't it you yourself who suggested the idea that it would be a good thing to set him on to read his verses?"
"An idea is not a command.
The command was to get him away."
"Command!
Rather a queer word.... On the contrary, your orders were to delay sending him off."
"You made a mistake and showed your foolishness and self-will.
The murder was the work of Fedka, and he carried it out alone for the sake of robbery.
You heard the gossip and believed it.
You were scared.
Stavrogin is not such a fool, and the proof of that is he left the town at twelve o'clock after an interview with the vice-governor; if there were anything in it they would not let him go to Petersburg in broad daylight."
"But we are not making out that Mr. Stavrogin committed the murder himself," Liputin rejoined spitefully and unceremoniously. "He may have known nothing about it, like me; and you know very well that I knew nothing about it, though I am mixed up in it like mutton in a hash."
"Whom are you accusing?" said Pyotr Stepanovitch, looking at him darkly.
"Those whose interest it is to burn down towns."
"You make matters worse by wriggling out of it.
However, won't you read this and pass it to the others, simply as a fact of interest?"
He pulled out of his pocket Lebyadkin's anonymous letter to Lembke and handed it to Liputin.
The latter read it, was evidently surprised, and passed it thoughtfully to his neighbour; the letter quickly went the round.
"Is that really Lebyadkin's handwriting?" observed Shigalov.
"It is," answered Liputin and Tolkatchenko (the authority on the peasantry).