Part 1 Chapter 7-1

Crime and Punishment 146 of 967 And leaving her, he passed straight into the
room uninvited. The old woman ran after him; her tongue was unloosed.
‘Good heavens! What it is? Who is it? What do you want?’ ‘Why, Alyona
Ivanovna, you know me ... Raskolnikov ... here, I brought you the pledge I
promised the other day ...’ And he held out the pledge. The old woman
glanced for a moment at the pledge, but at once stared in the eyes of her
uninvited visitor. She looked intently, maliciously and mistrustfully. A
minute passed; he even fancied something like a sneer in her eyes, as though
she had already guessed everything. He felt that he was losing his head, that
he was almost frightened, so frightened that if she were to look like that and
not say a word for another half minute, he thought he would have run away
from her. ‘Why do you look at me as though you did not know me?’ he said
suddenly, also with malice. ‘Take it if you like, if not I’ll go elsewhere, I am
in a hurry.’ He had not even thought of saying this, but it was suddenly said
of itself. The old woman recovered herself, and her visitor’s resolute tone
evidently restored her confidence.
Crime and Punishment 147 of 967 ‘But why, my good sir, all of a minute....
What is it?’ she asked, looking at the pledge. ‘The silver cigarette case; I
spoke of it last time, you know.’ She held out her hand. ‘But how pale you
are, to be sure ... and your hands are trembling too? Have you been bathing,
or what?’ ‘Fever,’ he answered abruptly. ‘You can’t help getting pale ... if
you’ve nothing to eat,’ he added, with difficulty articulating the words. His
strength was failing him again. But his answer sounded like the truth; the old
woman took the pledge. ‘What is it?’ she asked once more, scanning
Raskolnikov intently, and weighing the pledge in her hand. ‘A thing ...
cigarette case.... Silver.... Look at it.’ ‘It does not seem somehow like silver....
How he has wrapped it up!’ Trying to untie the string and turning to the
window, to the light (all her windows were shut, in spite of the stifling heat),
she left him altogether for some seconds and stood with her back to him. He
unbuttoned his coat and freed the axe from the noose, but did not yet take it
out altogether, simply holding it in his right hand under the
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Crime and Punishment 148 of 967 coat. His hands were fearfully weak, he felt
them every moment growing more numb and more wooden. He was afraid he
would let the axe slip and fall.... A sudden giddiness came over him. ‘But
what has he tied it up like this for?’ the old woman cried with vexation and
moved towards him. He had not a minute more to lose. He pulled the axe
quite out, swung it with both arms, scarcely conscious of himself, and almost
without effort, almost mechanically, brought the blunt side down on her head.
He seemed not to use his own strength in this. But as soon as he had once
brought the axe down, his strength returned to him. The old woman was as
always bareheaded. Her thin, light hair, streaked with grey, thickly smeared
with grease, was plaited in a rat’s tail and fastened by a broken horn comb
which stood out on the nape of her neck. As she was so short, the blow fell on
the very top of her skull. She cried out, but very faintly, and suddenly sank all
of a heap on the floor, raising her hands to her head. In one hand she still held
‘the pledge.’ Then he dealt her another and another blow with the blunt side
and on the same spot. The blood gushed as from an overturned glass, the
body fell back. He stepped back, let it fall, and at once bent over her face; she
was dead. Her eyes seemed to be
Crime and Punishment 149 of 967 starting out of their sockets, the brow and the
whole face were drawn and contorted convulsively. He laid the axe on the
ground near the dead body and felt at once in her pocket (trying to avoid the
streaming body)—the same right-hand pocket from which she had taken the
key on his last visit. He was in full possession of his faculties, free from
confusion or giddiness, but his hands were still trembling. He remembered
afterwards that he had been particularly collected and careful, trying all the
time not to get smeared with blood.... He pulled out the keys at once, they
were all, as before, in one bunch on a steel ring. He ran at once into the
bedroom with them. It was a very small room with a whole shrine of holy
images. Against the other wall stood a big bed, very clean and covered with a
silk patchwork wadded quilt. Against a third wall was a chest of drawers.
Strange to say, so soon as he began to fit the keys into the chest, so soon as
he heard their jingling, a convulsive shudder passed over him. He suddenly
felt tempted again to give it all up and go away. But that was only for an
instant; it was too late to go back. He positively smiled at himself, when
suddenly another terrifying idea occurred to his mind. He suddenly fancied
that the old woman might be still alive and might recover her senses. Leaving
the keys in the chest, he ran back to
Crime and Punishment 150 of 967 the body, snatched up the axe and lifted it
once more over the old woman, but did not bring it down. There was no
doubt that she was dead. Bending down and examining her again more
closely, he saw clearly that the skull was broken and even battered in on one
side. 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.
Crime and Punishment 151 of 967 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
Crime and Punishment 152 of 967 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
Crime and Punishment 153 of 967