NEVEROFF'S FATE.
When, following Katusha, Nekhludoff returned to the men's room, he found every one there in agitation. Nabatoff, who went about all over the place, and who got to know everybody, and noticed everything, had just brought news which staggered them all. The news was that he had discovered a note on a wall, written by the revolutionist Petlin, who had been sentenced to hard labour, and who, every one thought, had long since reached the Kara; and now it turned out that he had passed this way quite recently, the only political prisoner among criminal convicts.
"On the 17th of August," so ran the note, "I was sent off alone with the criminals. Neveroff was with me, but hanged himself in the lunatic asylum in Kasan. I am well and in good spirits and hope for the best."
All were discussing Petlin's position and the possible reasons of Neveroff's suicide. Only Kryltzoff sat silent and preoccupied, his glistening eyes gazing fixedly in front of him.
"My husband told me that Neveroff had a vision while still in the Petropavlovski prison," said Rintzeva.
"Yes, he was a poet, a dreamer; this sort of people cannot stand solitary confinement," said Novodvoroff. "Now, I never gave my imagination vent when in solitary confinement, but arranged my days most systematically, and in this way always bore it very well."
"What is there unbearable about it? Why, I used to be glad when they locked me up," said Nabatoff cheerfully, wishing to dispel the general depression.
"A fellow's afraid of everything; of being arrested himself and entangling others, and of spoiling the whole business, and then he gets locked up, and all responsibility is at an end, and he can rest; he can just sit and smoke."
"You knew him well?" asked Mary Pavlovna, glancing anxiously at the altered, haggard expression of Kryltzoff's face.
"Neveroff a dreamer?" Kryltzoff suddenly began, panting for breath as if he had been shouting or singing for a long time. "Neveroff was a man 'such as the earth bears few of,' as our doorkeeper used to express it. Yes, he had a nature like crystal, you could see him right through; he could not lie, he could not dissemble; not simply thin skinned, but with all his nerves laid bare, as if he were flayed. Yes, his was a complicated, rich nature, not such a-- But where is the use of talking?" he added, with a vicious frown. "Shall we first educate the people and then change the forms of life, or first change the forms and then struggle, using peaceful propaganda or terrorism? So we go on disputing while _they_ kill; _they_ do not dispute--they know their business; they don't care whether dozens, hundreds of men perish--and what men! No; that the best should perish is just what they want. Yes, Herzen said that when the Decembrists were withdrawn from circulation the average level of our society sank. I should think so, indeed. Then Herzen himself and his fellows were withdrawn; now is the turn of the Neveroffs."
"They can't all be got rid off," said Nabatoff, in his cheerful tones. "There will always be left enough to continue the breed. No, there won't, if we show any pity to _them_ there," Nabatoff said, raising his voice; and not letting himself be interrupted, "Give me a cigarette."
"Oh, Anatole, it is not good for you," said Mary Pavlovna. "Please do not smoke."
"Oh, leave me alone," he said angrily, and lit a cigarette, but at once began to cough and to retch, as if he were going to be sick. Having cleared his throat though, he went on:
"What we have been doing is not the thing at all. Not to argue, but for all to unite--to destroy them--that's it."
"But _they_ are also human beings," said Nekhludoff.
"No, _they_ are not human, they who can do what they are doing-- No-- There, now, I heard that some kind of bombs and balloons have been invented. Well, one ought to go up in such a balloon and sprinkle bombs down on _them_ as if _they_ were bugs, until _they_ are all exterminated-- Yes. Because--" he was going to continue, but, flushing all over, he began coughing worse than before, and a stream of blood rushed from his mouth.
Nabatoff ran to get ice. Mary Pavlovna brought valerian drops and offered them to him, but he, breathing quickly and heavily, pushed her away with his thin, white hand, and kept his eyes closed. When the ice and cold water had eased Kryltzoff a little, and he had been put to bed, Nekhludoff, having said good-night to everybody, went out with the sergeant, who had been waiting for him some time.
The criminals were now quiet, and most of them were asleep. Though the people were lying on and under the bed shelves and in the space between, they could not all be placed inside the rooms, and some of them lay in the passage with their sacks under their heads and covered with their cloaks. The moans and sleepy voices came through the open doors and sounded through the passage. Everywhere lay compact heaps of human beings covered with prison cloaks. Only a few men who were sitting in the bachelors' room by the light of a candle end, which they put out when they noticed the sergeant, were awake, and an old man who sat naked under the lamp in the passage picking the vermin off his shirt. The foul air in the political prisoners' rooms seemed pure compared to the stinking closeness here. The smoking lamp shone dimly as through a mist, and it was difficult to breathe. Stepping along the passage, one had to look carefully for an empty space, and having put down one foot had to find place for the other. Three persons, who had evidently found no room even in the passage, lay in the anteroom, close to the stinking and leaking tub. One of these was an old idiot, whom Nekhludoff had often seen marching with the gang; another was a boy about twelve; he lay between the two other convicts, with his head on the leg of one of them.
When he had passed out of the gate Nekhludoff took a deep breath and long continued to breathe in deep draughts of frosty air.
聂赫留朵夫跟着玛丝洛娃回到男犯牢房，看见那里人人都很激动。纳巴托夫平时到处走动，同每个人一交一往，留心观察各种动静，这会儿给大家带来一个惊人消息：他在墙上发现被判苦役的革命家彼特林写的条子。大家都以为彼特林早已到了卡拉河流域，如今发现他不久前才同刑事犯一起路过此地。
“八月十七日我单独同刑事犯一起上路。涅维罗夫原先跟我一起，可他在喀山疯人院里上吊了。我身一体健康，一精一神饱满，希望万事如意。”他在条子里这样写着。
大家都在讨论彼特林的处境和涅维罗夫自一杀的原因。克雷里卓夫却聚一精一会神，一声不吭，他那双炯炯有神的眼睛直瞪着前方。
“我丈夫对我说过，涅维罗夫关押在彼得保罗要塞时就一精一神错乱，看见鬼魂，”艾米丽雅说。
“是啊，他是个诗人，是个幻想家，这样的人蹲单身牢房是受不了的，”诺伏德伏罗夫说。“我蹲单身牢房的时候，就不让自己一胡一思乱想，总是最有条有理地安排时间，因此总能熬过去。”
“有什么不好熬的？叫我蹲牢房，我总是挺高兴的，”纳巴托夫激昂地说，显然想驱散一陰一郁的气氛。“本来总有点提心吊胆，唯恐自己被捕，牵累别人，坏了事业，一旦坐牢，就什么责任都不用负，可以歇一口气。你就坐下来一抽一抽一烟吧。”
“你跟他很熟吗？”谢基尼娜不安地打量着克雷里卓夫那张顿时变色的瘦脸，问道。
“涅维罗夫是个幻想家？”克雷里卓夫突然上气不接下气地说，仿佛他刚叫嚷或者歌唱了好一阵。“涅维罗夫这个人哪，就象我们的门房说的那样，天下少见……对了……这是个象水晶一样通体透明的人。是啊，他不仅不会撒谎，甚至不会做假。他不仅脸皮薄，浑身上下就象被剥掉皮似的，每根神经都暴露在外面。是啊……他的个一性一复杂得很，可不是那种……唉，说这些有什么用！……”他沉默了一阵。“我们争论究竟该怎么办，”他怒气冲冲地皱着眉头说，“是先教育人民，再改变生活方式呢，还是先改变生活方式，再教育人民。再有，我们争论该怎样斗争：开展和平宣传，还是采用恐怖手段？是啊，我们老是争论不休。可他们并不争论，他们懂得该怎么办。死掉几十个人，几百个人，而且都是多么好的好人，但他们不在乎！相反，他们巴不得好人都死掉。对了，赫尔岑说，十二月一党一人一被取缔，整个社会的水平就下降了。哼，怎么能不下降呢！后来，连赫尔岑和他那辈人都被取缔了。如今又轮到涅维罗夫这些人……”
“人是消灭不光的，”纳巴托夫激昂地说。“总有人会留下来的。”
“不，要是我们姑息他们的话，就不会有人留下来，”克雷里卓夫提高嗓门，不让人家打断他的话，说。“给我一支烟。”
“一抽一烟对你可不好哇，阿纳托里，”谢基尼娜说，“请你别一抽一了。”
“哼，你别管，”他怒气冲冲地说，吸起烟来，但立刻咳嗽，恶心得象要呕吐。他吐了一口唾沫，继续说：“我们干得不对头，是啊，不对头。不要光发发议论，应该把所有的人都一团一结起来……去把他们消灭掉。就是这样。”
“不过他们也都是人哪，”聂赫留朵夫说。
“不，他们不是人，只要干得出他们干的那种事，就不是人……嗯，听说有人发明了炸弹和飞艇。我说，我们要坐着飞艇飞上天，在他们头上扔炸弹，把他们象臭虫一样统统消灭掉……是啊，因为……”他正要说下去，可是忽然脸涨得通红，咳得更厉害，接着吐出鲜血来。
纳巴托夫跑到外面去取雪。谢基尼娜拿来缬草酊给他吃，可是他闭上眼睛，伸出一只苍白的瘦手把她推开，沉重而急促地喘着气。等到雪和凉水使他稍微镇静下来，大家扶他睡好，聂赫留朵夫就同大家告辞，跟那个早就来接他的军士一起回去。
刑事犯这时都已安静，大多睡着了。尽管牢房里板铺上和板铺下都睡了人，过道里也睡了人，还是容纳不下所有的囚犯，因此有一部分就头枕着包裹，身上盖着潮一湿的囚袍，睡在走廊地板上。
从牢房门里，从走廊里，都有打鼾声、呻一吟声和梦呓声传出来。到处可以看见身上盖着囚袍的身一体，密密麻麻地挤在一起。只有在刑事犯的单身牢房里，有几个人没有睡，他们在墙角围着一个蜡烛头坐着，一看见士兵走过，就把它熄灭。有一个老头儿坐在走廊的灯下，光着身一子捉衬衫上的虱子。政治犯牢房里病菌弥漫的空气，同这里臭气熏天的恶浊空气相比，似乎干净多了。那盏冒烟的油灯看上去仿佛在雾中发亮。人在这里呼吸都感到困难。穿过这条走廊，要不踩着或者绊着睡着的人，必须先看清前面什么地方可以落脚，然后再找下一步落脚的地方。有三个人显然在走廊里也没有找到空地方，只得躺在门廊里，靠近一个从裂缝里渗出粪汁来的臭烘烘的便桶。其中一个是聂赫留朵夫在旅途上常常见到的痴老头。另外有个十岁的男孩，他躺在两个男犯中间，一只手托着脸颊，头枕在一个男犯的腿上。
聂赫留朵夫走出大门，停住脚步，挺一起胸脯，久久地使劲呼吸着冰凉的空气。