It was half-past seven when he rang at the bell.
At first fortune seemed to smile upon him. As soon as he was announced he was received with extraordinary rapidity.
"As though she were waiting for me," thought Mitya, and as soon as he had been led to the drawing-room, the lady of the house herself ran in, and declared at once that she was expecting him.
"I was expecting you! I was expecting you!
Though I'd no reason to suppose you would come to see me, as you will admit yourself. Yet, I did expect you. You may marvel at my instinct, Dmitri Fyodorovitch, but I was convinced all the morning that you would come."
"That is certainly wonderful, madam," observed Mitya, sitting down limply, "but I have come to you on a matter of great importance.... On a matter of supreme importance for me, that is, madam... for me alone... and I hasten- "
"I know you've come on most important business. Dmitri Fyodorovitch; it's not a case of presentiment, no reactionary harking back to the miraculous (have you heard about Father Zossima?). This is a case of mathematics: you couldn't help coming, after all that has passed with Katerina Ivanovna; you couldn't, you couldn't, that's a mathematical certainty."
"The realism of actual life, madam, that's what it is.
But allow me to explain-"
"Realism indeed, Dmitri Fyodorovitch.
I'm all for realism now. I've seen too much of miracles.
You've heard that Father Zossima is dead?"
"No, madam, it's the first time I've heard of it." Mitya was a little surprised.
The image of Alyosha rose to his mind.
"Last night, and only imagine-"
"Madam," said Mitya, "I can imagine nothing except that I'm in a desperate position, and that if you don't help me, everything will come to grief, and I first of all.
Excuse me for the triviality of the expression, but I'm in a fever-"
"I know, I know that you're in a fever. You could hardly fail to be, and whatever you may say to me, I know beforehand.
I have long been thinking over your destiny, Dmitri Fyodorovitch, I am watching over it and studying it.... Oh, believe me, I'm an experienced doctor of the soul, Dmitri Fyodorovitch."
"Madam, if you are an experienced doctor, I'm certainly an experienced patient," said Mitya, with an effort to be polite, "and I feel that if you are watching over my destiny in this way, you will come to my help in my ruin, and so allow me, at least to explain to you the plan with which I have ventured to come to you... and what I am hoping of you.... I have come, madam-"
"Don't explain it. It's of secondary importance.
But as for help, you're not the first I have helped, Dmitri Fyodorovitch.
You have most likely heard of my cousin, Madame Belmesov. Her husband was ruined, 'had come to grief,' as you characteristically express it, Dmitri Fyodorovitch. I recommended him to take to horse-breeding, and now he's doing well.
Have you any idea of horse-breeding, Dmitri Fyodorovitch?"
"Not the faintest, madam; ah, madam, not the faintest!" cried Mitya, in nervous impatience, positively starting from his seat. "I simply implore you, madam, to listen to me. Only give me two minutes of free speech that I may just explain to you everything, the whole plan with which I have come.
Besides, I am short of time. I'm in a fearful hurry," Mitya cried hysterically, feeling that she was just going to begin talking again, and hoping to cut her short. "I have come in despair... in the last gasp of despair, to beg you to lend me the sum of three thousand, a loan, but on safe, most safe security, madam, with the most trustworthy guarantees!
Only let me explain-"
"You must tell me all that afterwards, afterwards!" Madame Hohlakov with a gesture demanded silence in her turn, "and whatever you may tell me, I know it all beforehand; I've told you so already.
You ask for a certain sum, for three thousand, but I can give you more, immeasurably more; I will save you, Dmitri Fyodorovitch, but you must listen to me."
Mitya started from his seat again.
"Madam, will you really be so good!" he cried, with strong feeling. "Good God, you've saved me!
You have saved a man from a violent death, from a bullet.... My eternal gratitude
"I will give you more, infinitely more than three thousand!" cried Madame Hohlakov, looking with a radiant smile at Mitya's ecstasy.
"Infinitely?
But I don't need so much.
I only need that fatal three thousand, and on my part I can give security for that sum with infinite gratitude, and I propose a plan which-"
"Enough, Dmitri Fyodorovitch, it's said and done." Madame Hohlakov cut him short, with the modest triumph of beneficence. "I have promised to save you, and I will save you.
I will save you as I did Belmesov.
What do you think of the gold mines, Dmitri Fyodorovitch?"
"Of the gold mines, madam?
I have never thought anything about them."
"But I have thought of them for you.
Thought of them over and over again.
I have been watching you for the last month.
I've watched you a hundred times as you've walked past, saying to myself: That's a man of energy who ought to be at the gold mines.
I've studied your gait and come to the conclusion: that's a man who would find gold."
"From my gait, madam?" said Mitya, smiling.
"Yes, from your gait.
You surely don't deny that character can be told from the gait, Dmitri Fyodorovitch?
Science supports the idea.