IN the meanwhile, the affairs of Eugene Mihailovich had grown worse and
worse. Business was very slack. There was a new shop in the town; he was
losing his customers, and the interest had to be paid. He borrowed again
on interest. At last his shop and his goods were to be sold up. Eugene
Mihailovich and his wife applied to every one they knew, but they
could not raise the four hundred roubles they needed to save the shop
anywhere.
They had some hope of the merchant Krasnopuzov, Eugene Mihailovich’s
wife being on good terms with his mistress. But news came that
Krasnopuzov had been robbed of a huge sum of money. Some said of half
a million roubles. “And do you know who is said to be the thief?” said
Eugene Mihailovich to his wife. “Vassily, our former yard-porter. They
say he is squandering the money, and the police are bribed by him.”
“I knew he was a villain. You remember how he did not mind perjuring
himself? But I did not expect it would go so far.”
“I hear he has recently been in the courtyard of our house. Cook says
she is sure it was he. She told me he helps poor girls to get married.”
“They always invent tales. I don’t believe it.”
At that moment a strange man, shabbily dressed, entered the shop.
“What is it you want?”
“Here is a letter for you.”
“From whom?”
“You will see yourself.”
“Don’t you require an answer? Wait a moment.”
“I cannot.” The strange man handed the letter and disappeared.
“How extraordinary!” said Eugene Mihailovich, and tore open the
envelope. To his great amazement several hundred rouble notes fell out.
“Four hundred roubles!” he exclaimed, hardly believing his eyes. “What
does it mean?”
The envelope also contained a badly-spelt letter, addressed to Eugene
Mihailovich. “It is said in the Gospels,” ran the letter, “do good for
evil. You have done me much harm; and in the coupon case you made me
wrong the peasants greatly. But I have pity for you. Here are four
hundred notes. Take them, and remember your porter Vassily.”
“Very extraordinary!” said Eugene Mihailovich to his wife and to
himself. And each time he remembered that incident, or spoke about it to
his wife, tears would come to his eyes.