"Murderer!" Petenka whispered, but this time so distinctly that Arina Petrovna looked at him in fright. Something passed before her eyes. It looked like the shadow of Simple Simon.
"Whom do you mean?" asked Yudushka, trembling with excitement.
"I see. Well, you'd better make that clear. Lord knows what's in your head. Maybe it is one of us that you style so."
Everybody became silent. The glasses of tea remained untouched. Yudushka leaned against the back of his chair, swaying nervously. Petenka, seeing that all hope was gone, had a sensation of deadly anguish, under the influence of which he was ready to go to any lengths. But father and son looked at each other with an indescribable smile. Hardened though Porfiry Vladimirych was, the minute was nearing when he would be unable to control himself.
"You'd better go, while the going's good," he burst out, finally. "You better had."
"Then why wait? I see you're trying to pick a quarrel, and I don't want to quarrel with anybody. We live here quietly and in good order, without disputes. Your old grandmother is here. You ought to have regard for her at least. Well, tell us why you came here?"
"If it's only for that, you are wasting your efforts. Go at once, my son. Hey, who's there? Have the horses ready for the young master. And some fried chicken, and caviar, and other things, eggs, I suppose. Wrap them up well in paper. You'll take a bite at the station, my son, while they feed the horses. Godspeed!"
"No, I am not going yet. I'm going to church first to have a memorial service performed for the murdered servant of God, Vladimir."
Father and son stared at each other. It looked as if in a moment both would jump up. But Yudushka made a superhuman effort and, turning his chair, faced the table again.
"Wonderful!" he said in a strained voice. "Wonderful!"
"Yes, for the murdered!" Petenka persisted brutally.
"Who murdered him?" Yudushka asked with curiosity, still hoping, apparently, that his son would come to his senses.
Porfiry Vladimirych was astounded. It was a few moments before he came to himself. He rose hastily from his seat, faced the ikon and began to pray.
"Well, now! Thank God, I feel better after praying," said Yudushka, seating himself at table again. "Just a minute, though. I, as your father, should not take you up on your talk, but we'll pursue the matter this time. Then you mean to say that I killed Volodenka?"