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- Федор Достоевский
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- Стр. 47/453
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He
was
about
to
feel
it
with
his
finger
,
but
drew
back
his
hand
and
indeed
it
was
evident
without
that
.
Meanwhile
there
was
a
perfect
pool
of
blood
.
All
at
once
he
noticed
a
string
on
her
neck
;
he
tugged
at
it
,
but
the
string
was
strong
and
did
not
snap
and
besides
,
it
was
soaked
with
blood
.
He
tried
to
pull
it
out
from
the
front
of
the
dress
,
but
something
held
it
and
prevented
its
coming
.
In
his
impatience
he
raised
the
axe
again
to
cut
the
string
from
above
on
the
body
,
but
did
not
dare
,
and
with
difficulty
,
smearing
his
hand
and
the
axe
in
the
blood
,
after
two
minutes
’
hurried
effort
,
he
cut
the
string
and
took
it
off
without
touching
the
body
with
the
axe
;
he
was
not
mistaken
—
it
was
a
purse
.
On
the
string
were
two
crosses
,
one
of
Cyprus
wood
and
one
of
copper
,
and
an
image
in
silver
filigree
,
and
with
them
a
small
greasy
chamois
leather
purse
with
a
steel
rim
and
ring
.
The
purse
was
stuffed
very
full
;
Raskolnikov
thrust
it
in
his
pocket
without
looking
at
it
,
flung
the
crosses
on
the
old
woman
’
s
body
and
rushed
back
into
the
bedroom
,
this
time
taking
the
axe
with
him
.
He
was
in
terrible
haste
,
he
snatched
the
keys
,
and
began
trying
them
again
.
But
he
was
unsuccessful
.
They
would
not
fit
in
the
locks
.
It
was
not
so
much
that
his
hands
were
shaking
,
but
that
he
kept
making
mistakes
;
though
he
saw
for
instance
that
a
key
was
not
the
right
one
and
would
not
fit
,
still
he
tried
to
put
it
in
.
Suddenly
he
remembered
and
realised
that
the
big
key
with
the
deep
notches
,
which
was
hanging
there
with
the
small
keys
could
not
possibly
belong
to
the
chest
of
drawers
(
on
his
last
visit
this
had
struck
him
)
,
but
to
some
strong
box
,
and
that
everything
perhaps
was
hidden
in
that
box
.
He
left
the
chest
of
drawers
,
and
at
once
felt
under
the
bedstead
,
knowing
that
old
women
usually
keep
boxes
under
their
beds
.
And
so
it
was
;
there
was
a
good
-
sized
box
under
the
bed
,
at
least
a
yard
in
length
,
with
an
arched
lid
covered
with
red
leather
and
studded
with
steel
nails
.
The
notched
key
fitted
at
once
and
unlocked
it
.
At
the
top
,
under
a
white
sheet
,
was
a
coat
of
red
brocade
lined
with
hareskin
;
under
it
was
a
silk
dress
,
then
a
shawl
and
it
seemed
as
though
there
was
nothing
below
but
clothes
.
The
first
thing
he
did
was
to
wipe
his
blood
-
stained
hands
on
the
red
brocade
.
“
It
’
s
red
,
and
on
red
blood
will
be
less
noticeable
,
”
the
thought
passed
through
his
mind
;
then
he
suddenly
came
to
himself
.
“
Good
God
,
am
I
going
out
of
my
senses
?
”
he
thought
with
terror
.
But
no
sooner
did
he
touch
the
clothes
than
a
gold
watch
slipped
from
under
the
fur
coat
.
He
made
haste
to
turn
them
all
over
.
There
turned
out
to
be
various
articles
made
of
gold
among
the
clothes
—
probably
all
pledges
,
unredeemed
or
waiting
to
be
redeemed
—
bracelets
,
chains
,
ear
-
rings
,
pins
and
such
things
.
Some
were
in
cases
,
others
simply
wrapped
in
newspaper
,
carefully
and
exactly
folded
,
and
tied
round
with
tape
.
Without
any
delay
,
he
began
filling
up
the
pockets
of
his
trousers
and
overcoat
without
examining
or
undoing
the
parcels
and
cases
;
but
he
had
not
time
to
take
many
.
.
.
.
He
suddenly
heard
steps
in
the
room
where
the
old
woman
lay
.
He
stopped
short
and
was
still
as
death
.
But
all
was
quiet
,
so
it
must
have
been
his
fancy
.
All
at
once
he
heard
distinctly
a
faint
cry
,
as
though
someone
had
uttered
a
low
broken
moan
.
Then
again
dead
silence
for
a
minute
or
two
.
He
sat
squatting
on
his
heels
by
the
box
and
waited
holding
his
breath
.
Suddenly
he
jumped
up
,
seized
the
axe
and
ran
out
of
the
bedroom
.
In
the
middle
of
the
room
stood
Lizaveta
with
a
big
bundle
in
her
arms
.
She
was
gazing
in
stupefaction
at
her
murdered
sister
,
white
as
a
sheet
and
seeming
not
to
have
the
strength
to
cry
out
.
Seeing
him
run
out
of
the
bedroom
,
she
began
faintly
quivering
all
over
,
like
a
leaf
,
a
shudder
ran
down
her
face
;
she
lifted
her
hand
,
opened
her
mouth
,
but
still
did
not
scream
.
She
began
slowly
backing
away
from
him
into
the
corner
,
staring
intently
,
persistently
at
him
,
but
still
uttered
no
sound
,
as
though
she
could
not
get
breath
to
scream
.
He
rushed
at
her
with
the
axe
;
her
mouth
twitched
piteously
,
as
one
sees
babies
’
mouths
,
when
they
begin
to
be
frightened
,
stare
intently
at
what
frightens
them
and
are
on
the
point
of
screaming
.
And
this
hapless
Lizaveta
was
so
simple
and
had
been
so
thoroughly
crushed
and
scared
that
she
did
not
even
raise
a
hand
to
guard
her
face
,
though
that
was
the
most
necessary
and
natural
action
at
the
moment
,
for
the
axe
was
raised
over
her
face
.
She
only
put
up
her
empty
left
hand
,
but
not
to
her
face
,
slowly
holding
it
out
before
her
as
though
motioning
him
away
.
The
axe
fell
with
the
sharp
edge
just
on
the
skull
and
split
at
one
blow
all
the
top
of
the
head
.
She
fell
heavily
at
once
.
Raskolnikov
completely
lost
his
head
,
snatching
up
her
bundle
,
dropped
it
again
and
ran
into
the
entry
.
Fear
gained
more
and
more
mastery
over
him
,
especially
after
this
second
,
quite
unexpected
murder
.
He
longed
to
run
away
from
the
place
as
fast
as
possible
.
And
if
at
that
moment
he
had
been
capable
of
seeing
and
reasoning
more
correctly
,
if
he
had
been
able
to
realise
all
the
difficulties
of
his
position
,
the
hopelessness
,
the
hideousness
and
the
absurdity
of
it
,
if
he
could
have
understood
how
many
obstacles
and
,
perhaps
,
crimes
he
had
still
to
overcome
or
to
commit
,
to
get
out
of
that
place
and
to
make
his
way
home
,
it
is
very
possible
that
he
would
have
flung
up
everything
,
and
would
have
gone
to
give
himself
up
,
and
not
from
fear
,
but
from
simple
horror
and
loathing
of
what
he
had
done
.
The
feeling
of
loathing
especially
surged
up
within
him
and
grew
stronger
every
minute
.
He
would
not
now
have
gone
to
the
box
or
even
into
the
room
for
anything
in
the
world
.
But
a
sort
of
blankness
,
even
dreaminess
,
had
begun
by
degrees
to
take
possession
of
him
;
at
moments
he
forgot
himself
,
or
rather
,
forgot
what
was
of
importance
,
and
caught
at
trifles
.
Glancing
,
however
,
into
the
kitchen
and
seeing
a
bucket
half
full
of
water
on
a
bench
,
he
bethought
him
of
washing
his
hands
and
the
axe
.
His
hands
were
sticky
with
blood
.
