"In the first place," began Ivan, "I know that epileptic fits can't be told beforehand.I've inquired; don't try and take me in.You can't foretell the day and the hour.How was it you told me the day and the hour beforehand, and about the cellar, too? How could you tell that you would fall down the cellar stairs in a fit, if you didn't sham a fit on purpose?""I had to go to the cellar anyway, several times a day, indeed,"Smerdyakov drawled deliberately."I fell from the garret just in the same way a year ago.It's quite true you can't tell the day and hour of a fit beforehand, but you can always have a presentiment of it.""But you did foretell the day and the hour!""In regard to my epilepsy, sir, you had much better inquire of the doctors here.You can ask them whether it was a real fit or a sham;it's no use my saying any more about it.""And the cellar? How could you know beforehand of the cellar?""You don't seem able to get over that cellar! As I was going down to the cellar, I was in terrible dread and doubt.What frightened me most was losing you and being left without defence in all the world.So I went down into the cellar thinking, 'Here, it'll come on directly, it'll strike me down directly, shall I fall?' And it was through this fear that I suddenly felt the spasm that always comes...and so I went flying.All that and all my previous conversation with you at the gate the evening before, when I told you how frightened I was and spoke of the cellar, I told all that to Doctor Herzenstube and Nikolay Parfenovitch, the investigating lawyer, and it's all been written down in the protocol.And the doctor here, Mr.Varvinsky, maintained to all of them that it was just the thought of it brought it on, the apprehension that I might fall.It was just then that the fit seized me.And so they've written it down, that it's just how it must have happened, simply from my fear."As he finished, Smerdyakov.drew a deep breath, as though exhausted.
"Then you have said all that in your evidence?" said Ivan, somewhat taken aback.He had meant to frighten him with the threat of repeating their conversation, and it appeared that Smerdyakov had already reported it all himself.
"What have I to be afraid of? Let them write down the whole truth," Smerdyakov pronounced firmly.
"And have you told them every word of our conversation at the gate?""No, not to say every word."
"And did you tell them that you can sham fits, as you boasted then?""No, I didn't tell them that either."
"Tell me now, why did you send me then to Tchermashnya?""I was afraid you'd go away to Moscow; Tchermashnya is nearer, anyway.""You are lying; you suggested my going away yourself; you told me to get out of the way of trouble.""That was simply out of affection and my sincere devotion to you, foreseeing trouble in the house, to spare you.Only I wanted to spare myself even more.That's why I told you to get out of harm's way, that you might understand that there would be trouble in the house, and would remain at home to protect your father.""You might have said it more directly, you blockhead!" Ivan suddenly fired up.
"How could I have said it more directly then? It was simply my fear that made me speak, and you might have been angry, too.I might well have been apprehensive that Dmitri Fyodorovitch would make a scene and carry away that money, for he considered it as good as his own; but who could tell that it would end in a murder like this? Ithought that he would only carry off the three thousand that lay under the master's mattress in the envelope, and you see, he's murdered him.
How could you guess it either, sir?"
"But if you say yourself that it couldn't be guessed, how could I have guessed and stayed at home? You contradict yourself!" said Ivan, pondering.
"You might have guessed from my sending you to Tchermashnya and not to Moscow.""How could I guess it from that?"
Smerdyakov seemed much exhausted, and again he was silent for a minute.
"You might have guessed from the fact of my asking you not to go to Moscow, but to Tchermashnya, that I wanted to have you nearer, for Moscow's a long way off, and Dmitri Fyodorovitch, knowing you are not far off, would not be so bold.And if anything had happened, you might have come to protect me, too, for I warned you of Grigory Vassilyevitch's illness, and that I was afraid of having a fit.And when I explained those knocks to you, by means of which one could go in to the deceased, and that Dmitri Fyodorovitch knew them all through me, I thought that you would guess yourself that he would be sure to do something, and so wouldn't go to Tchermashnya even, but would stay.""He talks very coherently," thought Ivan, "though he does mumble; what's the derangement of his faculties that Herzenstube talked of?""You are cunning with me, damn you!" he exclaimed, getting angry.
"But I thought at the time that you quite guessed," Smerdyakov parried with the simplest air.
"If I'd guessed, I should have stayed," cried Ivan.
"Why, I thought that it was because you guessed, that you went away in such a hurry, only to get out of trouble, only to run away and save yourself in your fright.""You think that everyone is as great a coward as yourself?""Forgive me, I thought you were like me.""Of course, I ought to have guessed," Ivan said in agitation; "and I did guess there was some mischief brewing on your part...only you are lying, you are lying again," he cried, suddenly recollecting.
"Do you remember how you went up to the carriage and said to me, 'It's always worth while speaking to a clever man'? So you were glad Iwent away, since you praised me?"
Smerdyakov sighed again and again.A trace of colour came into his face.
"If I was pleased," he articulated rather breathlessly, "it was simply because you agreed not to go to Moscow, but to Tchermashnya.
For it was nearer, anyway.Only when I said these words to you, it was not by way of praise, but of reproach.You didn't understand it.""What reproach?"
