The Brothers Karamazov
had left the young ladies and run in, looking strenuous and
ready for action. Pyotr Ilyitch was met with the astounding
news that old Fyodor Pavlovitch really had been murdered
that evening in his own house, murdered and robbed. The
news had only just reached them in the following manner:
Marfa Ignatyevna, the wife of old Grigory, who had been
knocked senseless near the fence, was sleeping soundly in
her bed and might well have slept till morning after the
draught she had taken. But, all of a sudden she waked up, no
doubt roused by a fearful epileptic scream from Smerdya-
kov, who was lying in the next room unconscious. That
scream always preceded his fits, and always terrified and
upset Marfa Ignatyevna. She could never get accustomed
to it. She jumped up and ran half-awake to Smerdyakov’s
room. But it was dark there, and she could only hear the
invalid beginning to gasp and struggle. Then Marfa Ig-
natyevna herself screamed out and was going to call her
husband, but suddenly realised that when she had got up,
he was not beside her in bed. She ran back to the bedstead
and began groping with her hands, but the bed was really
empty. Then he must have gone out where? She ran to the
steps and timidly called him. She got no answer, of course,
but she caught the sound of groans far away in the garden in
the darkness. She listened. The groans were repeated, and it
was evident they came from the garden.
‘Good Lord! just as it was with Lizaveta Smerdyashtcha-
ya!’ she thought distractedly. She went timidly down the
steps and saw that the gate into the garden was open.
‘He must be out there, poor dear,’ she thought. She went