Page 796 - the-brothers-karamazov

ment when, seeing his father peering out of the window, his
hatred flared up and he pulled the pestle out of his pock-
et, he suddenly, as though of design, stopped short. He sat
gazing at the wall and was aware that their eyes were fixed
upon him.
‘Well?’ said the investigating lawyer. ‘You pulled out the
weapon and... and what happened then?
‘Then? Why, then I murdered him... hit him on the head
and cracked his skull.... I suppose that’s your story. That’s
it!’
His eyes suddenly flashed. All his smothered wrath sud-
denly flamed up with extraordinary violence in his soul.
‘Our story?’ repeated Nikolay Parfenovitch.
Mitya dropped his eyes and was a long time silent.
‘My story, gentlemen? Well, was like this,’ he began softly.
‘Whether it was like this,’ he began softly. ‘Whether it was
someone’s tears, or my mother prayed to God, or a good
angel kissed me at that instant, I don’t know. But the devil
was conquered. I rushed from the window and ran to the
fence. My father was alarmed and, for the first time, he saw
me then, cried out, and sprang back from the window. I re-
member that very well. I ran across the garden to the fence...
and there Grigory caught me, when I was sitting on the
fence.’
At that point he raised his eyes at last and looked at his
listeners. They seemed to be staring at him with perfect-
ly unruffled attention. A sort of paroxysm of indignation
seized on Mitya’s soul.
‘Why, you’re laughing at me at this moment, gentlemen!’