Fyodor Dostoevsky: The Idiot

PART IV 11. CHAPTER XI. (continued)

"I thought you would. 'They'll talk about it,' I thought; so I determined to go and fetch you to spend the night here--'We will be together,' I thought, 'for this one night--'"

"Rogojin, WHERE is Nastasia Philipovna?" said the prince, suddenly rising from his seat. He was quaking in all his limbs, and his words came in a scarcely audible whisper. Rogojin rose also.

"There," he whispered, nodding his head towards the curtain.

"Asleep?" whispered the prince.

Rogojin looked intently at him again, as before.

"Let's go in--but you mustn't--well--let's go in."

He lifted the curtain, paused--and turned to the prince. "Go in," he said, motioning him to pass behind the curtain. Muishkin went in.

It's so dark," he said.

"You can see quite enough," muttered Rogojin.

"I can just see there's a bed--"

"Go nearer," suggested Rogojin, softly.

The prince took a step forward--then another--and paused. He stood and stared for a minute or two.

Neither of the men spoke a word while at the bedside. The prince's heart beat so loud that its knocking seemed to be distinctly audible in the deathly silence.

But now his eyes had become so far accustomed to the darkness that he could distinguish the whole of the bed. Someone was asleep upon it--in an absolutely motionless sleep. Not the slightest movement was perceptible, not the faintest breathing could be heard. The sleeper was covered with a white sheet; the outline of the limbs was hardly distinguishable. He could only just make out that a human being lay outstretched there.