By the way, let us say a word or two of Ivan's feeling to his brother Dmitri.He positively disliked him; at most, felt sometimes a compassion for him, and even that was mixed with great contempt, almost repugnance.Mitya's whole personality, even his appearance, was extremely unattractive to him.Ivan looked with indignation on Katerina Ivanovna's love for his brother.Yet he went to see Mitya on the first day of his arrival, and that interview, far from shaking Ivan's belief in his guilt, positively strengthened it.He found his brother agitated, nervously excited.Mitya had been talkative, but very absent-minded and incoherent.He used violent language, accused Smerdyakov, and was fearfully muddled.He talked principally about the three thousand roubles, which he said had been "stolen" from him by his father.
"The money was mine, it was my money," Mitya kept repeating."Even if I had stolen it, I should have had the right."He hardly contested the evidence against him, and if he tried to turn a fact to his advantage, it was in an absurd and incoherent way.He hardly seemed to wish to defend himself to Ivan or anyone else.Quite the contrary, he was angry and proudly scornful of the charges against him; he was continually firing up and abusing everyone.He only laughed contemptuously at Grigory's evidence about the open door, and declared that it was "the devil that opened it."But he could not bring forward any coherent explanation of the fact.
He even succeeded in insulting Ivan during their first interview, telling him sharply that it was not for people who declared that "everything was lawful," to suspect and question him.Altogether he was anything but friendly with Ivan on that occasion.Immediately after that interview with Mitya, Ivan went for the first time to see Smerdyakov.
In the railway train on his way from Moscow, he kept thinking of Smerdyakov and of his last conversation with him on the evening before he went away.Many things seemed to him puzzling and suspicious.
when he gave his evidence to the investigating lawyer Ivan said nothing, for the time, of that conversation.He put that off till he had seen Smerdyakov, who was at that time in the hospital.
Doctor Herzenstube and Varvinsky, the doctor he met in the hospital, confidently asserted in reply to Ivan's persistent questions, that Smerdyakov's epileptic attack was unmistakably genuine, and were surprised indeed at Ivan asking whether he might not have been shamming on the day of the catastrophe.They gave him to understand that the attack was an exceptional one, the fits persisting and recurring several times, so that the patient's life was positively in danger, and it was only now, after they had applied remedies, that they could assert with confidence that the patient would survive.
"Though it might well be," added Doctor Herzenstube, "that his reason would be impaired for a considerable period, if not permanently." On Ivan's asking impatiently whether that meant that he was now mad, they told him that this was not yet the case, in the full sense of the word, but that certain abnormalities were perceptible.Ivan decided to find out for himself what those abnormalities were.
At the hospital he was at once allowed to see the patient.
Smerdyakov was lying on a truckle-bed in a separate ward.There was only one other bed in the room, and in it lay a tradesman of the town, swollen with dropsy, who was obviously almost dying; he could be no hindrance to their conversation.Smerdyakov grinned uncertainly on seeing Ivan, and for the first instant seemed nervous.So at least Ivan fancied.But that was only momentary.For the rest of the time he was struck, on the contrary, by Smerdyakov's composure.From the first glance Ivan had no doubt that he was very ill.He was very weak; he spoke slowly, seeming to move his tongue with difficulty; he was much thinner and sallower.Throughout the interview, which lasted twenty minutes, he kept complaining of headache and of pain in all his limbs.His thin emasculate face seemed to have become so tiny; his hair was ruffled, and his crest of curls in front stood up in a thin tuft.But in the left eye, which was screwed up and seemed to be insinuating something, Smerdyakov showed himself unchanged."It's always worth while speaking to a clever man." Ivan was reminded of that at once.He sat down on the stool at his feet.Smerdyakov, with painful effort, shifted his position in bed, but he was not the first to speak.He remained dumb, and did not even look much interested.
"Can you.talk to me?" asked Ivan."I won't tire you much.""Certainly I can," mumbled Smerdyakov, in a faint voice."Has your honour been back long?" he added patronisingly, as though encouraging a nervous visitor.
"I only arrived to-day....To see the mess you are in here."Smerdyakov sighed.
"Why do you sigh? You knew of it all along," Ivan blurted out.
Smerdyakov was stolidly silent for a while.
"How could I help knowing? It was clear beforehand.But how could I tell it would turn out like that?""What would turn out? Don't prevaricate! You've foretold you'd have a fit; on the way down to the cellar, you know.You mentioned the very spot.""Have you said so at the examination yet?" Smerdyakov queried with composure.
Ivan felt suddenly angry.
"No, I haven't yet, but I certainly shall.You must explain a great deal to me, my man; and let me tell you, I am not going to let you play with me!""Why should I play with you, when I put my whole trust in you, as in God Almighty?" said Smerdyakov, with the same composure, only for a moment closing his eyes.
