On the third day there was no talk of him at all, until Aglaya remarked at dinner: “Mamma is cross because the prince hasn’t turned up,” to which the general replied that it was not his fault.

“Well, you’ve put me into such a fright that I shall certainly make a fool of myself, and very likely break something too. I wasn’t a bit alarmed before, but now I’m as nervous as can be.”
“How annoying!” exclaimed the prince. “I thought... Tell me, is he...”
“Everyone has his worries, prince, especially in these strange and troublous times of ours,” Lebedeff replied, drily, and with the air of a man disappointed of his reasonable expectations.
“He jumped up, too.

Gania, little as he felt inclined for swagger at this moment, could not avoid showing his triumph, especially just after such humiliating remarks as those of Hippolyte. A smile of self-satisfaction beamed on his face, and Varia too was brimming over with delight.

The latter, with one thing and another, was now so disturbed and confused, that when, a couple of hours or so later, a message came from Colia that the general was ill, he could hardly take the news in.
So saying, she reseated herself; a strange smile played on her lips. She sat quite still, but watched the door in a fever of impatience.

“Run away from home?” cried the prince.

So saying, Aglaya burst into bitter tears, and, hiding her face in her handkerchief, sank back into a chair.
The prince observed Gania’s eyes flashing at him, as though they would gladly annihilate him then and there.
“H’m! then Colia has spoken to you already?”

“I felt sure of that, or I should not have come to you. We might manage it with the help of Nina Alexandrovna, so that he might be closely watched in his own house. Unfortunately I am not on terms... otherwise... but Nicolai Ardalionovitch, who adores you with all his youthful soul, might help, too.”

The laughter became general, and the young officer, who seemed a particularly lively sort of person, simply shook with mirth.
Keller suddenly left his seat, and approached Lizabetha Prokofievna.
“‘To salt horse-flesh,’ said Davoust. Napoleon shuddered--his fate was being decided.
“Then look out for him, I warn you! He won’t forgive you easily, for taking back the letter.”
“It is the truth. One evening after dinner he stumbled as he stepped out of his carriage. He fell, and struck his head on the curb, and died immediately. He was seventy-three years of age, and had a red face, and white hair; he deluged himself with scent, and was always smiling like a child. Peter Zakkaritch recalled my interview with him, and said, ‘_you foretold his death._’”
“Do you say he is consumptive?”
“Of course, mamma!” said Alexandra. “But let’s have lunch now, we are all hungry!”
“DEAR COLIA,--Please be so kind as to give the enclosed sealed letter to Aglaya Ivanovna. Keep well--Ever your loving,
“I may have said so,” answered Hippolyte, as if trying to remember. “Yes, I certainly said so,” he continued with sudden animation, fixing an unflinching glance on his questioner. “What of it?”
“And are you assured, at the same time, that you love Aglaya too?”
“Wasn’t it this same Pavlicheff about whom there was a strange story in connection with some abbot? I don’t remember who the abbot was, but I remember at one time everybody was talking about it,” remarked the old dignitary.

“But perhaps we shall not be poor; we may be very rich, Nastasia Philipovna,” continued the prince, in the same timid, quivering tones. “I don’t know for certain, and I’m sorry to say I haven’t had an opportunity of finding out all day; but I received a letter from Moscow, while I was in Switzerland, from a Mr. Salaskin, and he acquaints me with the fact that I am entitled to a very large inheritance. This letter--”

“What! are they all off? Is it all over? Is the sun up?” He trembled, and caught at the prince’s hand. “What time is it? Tell me, quick, for goodness’ sake! How long have I slept?” he added, almost in despair, just as though he had overslept something upon which his whole fate depended.

Alexandra now joined in, and it looked as though the three sisters were going to laugh on for ever.
“Really, prince, I hardly expected after--after all our friendly intercourse--and you see, Lizabetha Prokofievna--”
It was now close on twelve o’clock.
“What--you’re a relation then, are you?” asked the servant, so bewildered that he began to feel quite alarmed.

“Thank God--thank God!” said Lizabetha Prokofievna to herself, without quite knowing why she felt so relieved.

“That is your father, is it not?” asked the prince.

He had fallen in an epileptic fit.