regard to his conduct, I can only . . ." Here he stopped and said in a severe tone of voice: "What canst thou say to this, in thy defence?"

It was my intention to have continued as I had begun, and to have declared my connection with Maria Ivanovna as frankly as I had narrated the rest, but I suddenly felt an irrepressible aversion to doing so. It struck me that the commission would call for her as a witness were I to mention her, and the idea of mixing up her name with the vile evidence of the wretches, and also confronting her with them face to face—this dreadful consideration so shocked me that I became confused, and lost my presence of mind.

My examiners, who had apparently begun to listen to me with a certain amount of consideration, became again prejudiced upon noticing my indecision. The officer of the Guards required that I should be opposed to my principal accuser. The general ordered that wretch of yesterday to be summoned. I turned abruptly towards the door, in expectation of my accuser. In a few minutes the clanking of chains was heard, the door was opened, and Shvabrine appeared. I was astonished at the change that had taken place in him. He was painfully thin and pale. His hair, so recently of a jet black, had turned quite gray; his long beard was matted. He repeated his accusations in a faint but firm voice. He stated that I had been sent off to Orenburg by Pougatcheff as a spy; that I daily rode out reconnoitring with the object of having written reports conveyed, of all that was passing in the town; that I at last joined the pretender, accom-