"The troikas are waiting with their little bells!"
Nastasya Filippovna snatched up the packet with both hands.
"Ganka, I've got an idea: I want to reward you, because why should you lose everything?
Rogozhin, will he crawl to Vassilievsky Island for three roubles?"
"He will!"
"Well, then listen, Ganya, I want to look at your soul for the last time; you've been tormenting me for three long months; now it's my turn.
Do you see this packet? There's a hundred thousand in it!
I'm now going to throw it into the fireplace, onto the fire, before everyone, all these witnesses!
As soon as it catches fire all over, go into the fireplace, only without gloves, with your bare hands, with your sleeves rolled up, and pull the packet out of the fire!
If you pull it out, it's yours, the whole hundred thousand is yours!
You'll only burn your fingers a little—but it's a hundred thousand, just think!
It won't take long to snatch it out!
And I'll admire your soul as you go into the fire after my money.
They're all witnesses that the packet will be yours!
And if you don't get it out, it will burn; I won't let anyone else touch it.
Stand back!
Everybody!
It's my money!
I got it for a night with Rogozhin.
Is it my money, Rogozhin?"
"Yours, my joy!
Yours, my queen!"
"Well, then everybody stand back, I do as I like!
Don't interfere!
Ferdyshchenko, stir up the fire."
"Nastasya Filippovna, my hands refuse to obey!" the flabbergasted Ferdyshchenko replied.
"Ahh!" Nastasya Filippovna cried, seized the fire tongs, separated two smoldering logs, and as soon as the fire blazed up, threw the packet into it.
A cry was heard all around; many even crossed themselves.
"She's lost her mind, she's lost her mind!" they cried all around.
"Maybe .. . maybe we should tie her up?" the general whispered to Ptitsyn. "Or send for . . . she's lost her mind, hasn't she?
Lost her mind?"
"N-no, this may not be entirely madness," Ptitsyn whispered, pale as a sheet and trembling, unable to tear his eyes from the packet, which was beginning to smolder.
"She's mad, isn't she?
Isn't she mad?" the general pestered Totsky.
"I told you she was a colorful woman," murmured Afanasy Ivanovich, also gone somewhat pale.
"But, after all, it's a hundred thousand! . . ."
"Lord, Lord!" was heard on all sides.
Everyone crowded around the fireplace, everyone pushed in order to see, everyone exclaimed . . . Some even climbed onto chairs to look over the heads.
Darya Alexeevna ran to the other room and exchanged frightened whispers with Katya and Pasha about something.
The German beauty fled.
"Dearest lady!
Queen!
Almighty one!" Lebedev screamed, crawling on his knees before Nastasya Filippovna and reaching out towards the fireplace. "A hundred thousand!
A hundred thousand!
I saw it myself, I was there when they wrapped it!
Dearest lady!
Merciful one!
Order me into the fireplace: I'll go all the way in, I'll put my whole gray head into the fire! ...
A crippled wife, thirteen children—all orphaned, I buried my father last week, he sits there starving, Nastasya Filippovna!!" and, having screamed, he began crawling into the fireplace.
"Away!" cried Nastasya Filippovna, pushing him aside. "Step back, everybody!