The Brothers Karamazov

It was decided that if there was tea ready downstairs (for Mikhail Makarovich had certainly gone “for a cup of tea”), they would have some tea and then “carry on, carry on.” And they would put off real tea and “a little something” until they had a free moment. Tea was indeed found downstairs, and was quickly brought upstairs. Mitya at first refused the cup Nikolai Parfenovich kindly offered him, but then asked for it himself and greedily drank it. Generally he looked even somehow surprisingly worn out. What, one might have thought, would one night of carousing mean for a man of such strength, even coupled with the strongest sensations? Yet he himself felt that he could hardly hold himself upright, and at times everything seemed to start swimming and turning before his eyes. “A little more and I’ll probably start raving,” he thought to himself.

Chapter 8: The Evidence of the Witnesses. The Wee One

The interrogation of the witnesses began. But we shall not continue our story in the same detail as we have maintained up to now. And therefore we shall omit how Nikolai Parfenovich impressed upon each witness called that he should give evidence truthfully and conscientiously, and that later he would have to repeat his evidence under oath; and how, finally, each witness was required to sign the transcript of his evidence, and so on and so forth. We shall note only one thing, that the main point to which the interrogators directed all their attention was predominantly the same question of the three thousand roubles—that is, whether it had been three thousand or fifteen hundred the first time, when Dmitri Fyodorovich gave his first party there, at Mokroye, a month ago, and three thousand or fifteen hundred yesterday, when Dmitri Fyodorovich gave his second party. Alas, all the evidence from first to last turned out to be against Mitya, and none in his favor, and some of the evidence even introduced new, almost astounding facts in refutation of his evidence. The first to be interrogated was Trifon Borisich. He came before the interrogators without a trace of fear; on the contrary, with a look of stern and severe indignation at the accused, thereby undoubtedly imparting to himself an air of extreme truthfulness and self-respect. He spoke little and with reserve, waiting for each question, answering precisely and deliberately. He testified firmly and without hesitation that the amount spent a month ago could not possibly have been less than three thousand, that all the peasants there would testify to having heard about the three thousand from “Mitri Fyodorovich” himself: “Look how much he threw away on the gypsy girls alone. It must have been over a thousand just on them.”

“Probably not even five hundred,” Mitya observed gloomily in response, “only I wasn’t counting at the time, I was drunk, more’s the pity ...”

Mitya was now sitting to one side, his back to the curtains, listening gloomily, with a sad and tired look, as if to say: “Eh, tell them whatever you like, it makes no difference now!”

“Over a thousand went to them, Mitri Fyodorovich,” Trifon Borisovich countered firmly. “You were throwing it away for nothing, and they were picking it up. They’re pilfering folk, cheats, horse thieves, they were driven away from here, otherwise they’d testify themselves to how much they profited from you. I saw the amount you had in your hands myself—I didn’t count it, you didn’t let me, that’s true, but I could tell by eye, and I remember it was much more than fifteen hundred ... Fifteen hundred, hah! I’ve seen money enough, I can tell ...”

As for the amount yesterday, Trifon Borisich testified outright that Dmitri Fyodorovich himself had announced to him, as soon as he dismounted, that he had brought three thousand.

“Come now, did I say that, Trifon Borisich,” Mitya objected, “did I really announce so positively that I had brought three thousand?”

“You did, Mitri Fyodorovich. You said it in front of Andrei. Andrei’s still here, he hasn’t gone yet, call him in. And in the main room there, when you were giving treats to the chorus, you shouted right out that you were leaving your sixth thousand here—including the ones before, that’s what it means. Stepan and Semyon heard it, and Pyotr Fomich Kalganov was standing next to you then, maybe the gentleman also remembers...”

The evidence concerning the sixth thousand was received with remarkable impression by the interrogators. They liked the new version: three and three makes six, meaning that three thousand then and three thousand now would take care of all six, the result was clear.