"Tell us what took place."
"What took place?" suddenly said Maslova. "I came to the hotel; I was taken to the room; he was there, and was already very drunk." (She p.r.o.nounced the word "he" with a peculiar expression of horror and with wide-open eyes.) "I wished to depart; he would not let me."
She became silent, as if she had lost the thread of the story, or thought of something else.
"What then?"
"What then? Then I remained there awhile and went home."
At this point the a.s.sistant public prosecutor half rose from his seat, uncomfortably resting on one elbow.
"Do you wish to question the prisoner?" asked the justiciary, and receiving an affirmative answer, motioned his a.s.sent.
"I would like to put this question: Has the prisoner been acquainted with Simon Kartinkin before?" asked the a.s.sistant prosecutor without looking at Maslova.
And having asked the question he pressed his lips and frowned.
The justiciary repeated the question. Maslova looked with frightened eyes at the prosecutor.
"With Simon? I was," she said.
"I would like to know now, what was the character of the acquaintance that existed between them. Have they met often?"
"What acquaintance? He invited me to meet guests; there was no acquaintance," answered Maslova, throwing restless glances now at the prosecutor, now at the justiciary.
"I would like to know why did Kartinkin invite Maslova only, and not other girls?" asked the prosecutor, with a Mephistophelian smile, winking his eyes.
"I don"t know. How can I tell?" answered Maslova, glancing around her, frightened, and for a moment resting her eyes on Nekhludoff. "He invited whomever he wished."
"Is it possible that she recognized me?" Nekhludoff thought, with horror. He felt his blood rising to his head, but Maslova did not recognize him. She turned away immediately, and with frightened eyes gazed at the prosecutor.
"Then the prisoner denies that she had intimate relations with Kartinkin? Very well. I have no more questions to ask."
He removed his elbow from the desk, and began to make notes. In reality, instead of making notes, he merely drew lines across his notes, having seen prosecutors and attorneys, after an adroit question, making memoranda of questions which were to crush their opponents.
The justiciary did not turn immediately to the prisoner, because he was at the moment asking his a.s.sociate in the eye-gla.s.ses whether he consented to the questions previously outlined and committed to writing.
"What followed?" the justiciary continued.
"I came home," Maslova continued, looking somewhat bolder, "and went to sleep. As soon as I was asleep our girl, Bertha, came and woke me.
"Your merchant is here again. Wake up." Then he"--again she p.r.o.nounced it with evident horror--"he wished to send for wine, but was short of money. Then he sent me to the hotel, telling me where the money was and how much to take, and I went."
The justiciary was whispering at the time to his a.s.sociate on the left, and did not listen to Maslova, but to make it appear that he had heard everything he repeated her last words.
"And you went. Well, what else?" he asked.
"I came there and did as he told me. I went to his room. I did not enter it alone, but called Simon Michaelovich and her," she said, pointing to Bochkova.
"She lies; I never entered----" Bochkova began, but she was stopped.
"In their presence I took four ten ruble bills," she continued.
"And while taking this money, did the prisoner see how much money there was?" asked the prosecutor.
Maslova shuddered as soon as the prosecutor began to speak. She could not tell why, but she felt that he was her enemy.
"I did not count it, but I saw that it was all hundred ruble bills."
"The prisoner saw hundred ruble bills. I have no other questions."
"Well, did you bring back the money?" asked the justiciary, looking at the clock.
"I did."
"Well, what then?"
"Then he again took me with him," said Maslova.
"And how did you give him the powder in the wine?" asked the justiciary.
"How? Poured it into the wine and gave it to him."
"Why did you give it to him?"
Without answering, she sighed deeply. After a short silence she said:
"He would not let me go. He exhausted me. I went into the corridor and said to Simon Michaelovich: "If he would only let me go; I am so tired." And Simon Michaelovich said: "We are also tired of him. We intend to give him sleeping powders. When he is asleep you can go."
"All right," I said. I thought that it was a harmless powder. He gave me a package. I entered. He lay behind the part.i.tion, and ordered me to bring him some brandy. I took from the table a bottle of feen-champagne, poured into two gla.s.ses--for myself and him--threw the powder into his gla.s.s and handed it to him. I would not have given it to him if I had known it."
"And how did you come by the ring?" asked the justiciary.
"He presented it to me."
"When did he present it to you?"
"When we reached his room. I wished to depart. Then he struck me on the head and broke my comb. I was angered, and wished to go. Then he took the ring from his finger and gave it to me, asking me to stay,"
she said.
Here the a.s.sistant prosecutor again rose, and with a dissimulating naiveness asked permission to ask a few more questions, which was granted, and leaning his head on his gold-embroidered collar, he asked:
"I would like to know how long was the prisoner in the room with Smelkoff?"
Maslova was again terror-stricken, and with her frightened eyes wandering from the prosecutor to the justiciary, she answered, hurriedly:
"I do not remember how long."
"And does the prisoner remember entering another part of the hotel after she had left Smelkoff?"
Maslova was thinking.