kryltzoff at rest.
in one of the exiles' cells nekhludoff, to his surprise, recognised the strange old man he had seen crossing the ferry that morning. this old man was sitting on the floor by the beds, barefooted, with only a dirty cinder-coloured shirt on, torn on one shoulder, and similar trousers. he looked severely and enquiringly at the newcomers. his emaciated body, visible through the holes of his shirt, looked miserably weak, but in his face was even more concentrated seriousness and animation than when nekhludoff saw him crossing the ferry. as in all the other cells, so here also the prisoners jumped up and stood erect when the official entered, but the old man remained sitting. his eyes glittered and his brows frowned with wrath.
"get up," the inspector called out to him.
the old man did not rise and only smiled contemptuously.
"thy servants are standing before thee. i am not thy servant. thou bearest the seal--" the old man pointed to the inspector's forehead.
"wha-a-t?" said the inspector threateningly, and made a step towards him.
"i know this man," nekhludoff hastened to say; "what is he imprisoned for?"
"the police have sent him here because he has no passport. we ask them not to send such, but they will do it," said the inspector, casting an angry side look at the old man.
"and so it seems thou, too, art one of antichrist's army?" the old man said to nekhludoff.
"no, i am a visitor," said nekhludoff.
"what, hast thou come to see how antichrist tortures men? there, look, he has locked them up in a cage, a whole army of them. men should cat bread in the sweat of their brow. and he has locked them up with no work to do, and feeds them like swine, so that they should turn into beasts."
"what is he saying?" asked the englishman.
nekhludoff told him the old man was blaming the inspector for keeping men imprisoned.
"ask him how he thinks one should treat those who do not keep to the laws," said the englishman.
nekhludoff translated the question. the old man laughed in a strange manner, showing his teeth.
"the laws?" he repeated with contempt. "he first robbed everybody, took all the earth, all the rights away from men, killed all those who were against him, and then wrote laws, forbidding robbery and murder. he should have written these laws before."
nekhludoff translated. the englishman smiled. "well, anyhow, ask him how one should treat thieves and murderers at present?"
nekhludoff again translated his question.
"tell him he should take the seal of antichrist off himself," the old man said, frowning severely; "then there will he no thieves and murderers. tell him so."
"he is crazy," said the englishman, when nekhludoff had translated the old man's words, and, shrugging his shoulders, he left the cell.
"do thy business and leave them alone. every one for himself. god knows whom to execute, whom to forgive, and we do not know," said the old man. "every man be his own chief, then the chiefs will not be wanted. go, go!" he added, angrily frowning and looking with glittering eyes at nekhludoff, who lingered in the cell. "hast thou not looked on long enough how the servants of antichrist feed lice on men? go, go!"
when nekhludoff went out he saw the englishman standing by the open door of an empty cell with the inspector, asking what the cell was for. the inspector explained that it was the mortuary.
"oh," said the englishman when nekhludoff had translated, and expressed the wish to go in.
the mortuary was an ordinary cell, not very large. a small lamp hung on the wall and dimly lit up sacks and logs of wood that were piled up in one corner, and four dead bodies lay on the bedshelves to the right. the first body had a coarse linen shirt and trousers on; it was that of a tall man with a small beard and half his head shaved. the body was quite rigid; the bluish hands, that had evidently been folded on the breast, had separated; the legs were also apart and the bare feet were sticking out. next to him lay a bare-footed old woman in a white petticoat, her head, with its thin plait of hair, uncovered, with a little, pinched yellow face and a sharp nose. beyond her was another man with something lilac on. this colour reminded nekhludoff of something. he came nearer and looked at the body. the small, pointed beard sticking upwards, the firm, well-shaped nose, the high, white forehead, the thin, curly hair; he recognised the familiar features and could hardly believe his eyes. yesterday he had seen this face, angry, excited, and full of suffering; now it was quiet, motionless, and terribly beautiful. yes, it was kryltzoff, or at any rate the trace that his material existence had left behind. "why had he suffered? why had he lived? does he now understand?" nekhludoff thought, and there seemed to be no answer, seemed to be nothing but death, and he felt faint. without taking leave of the englishman, nekhludoff asked the inspector to lead him out into the yard, and feeling the absolute necessity of being alone to think over all that had happened that evening, he drove back to his hotel.
在流放犯的一个牢房里，聂赫留朵夫看见早晨在渡船上见到过的怪老头，不由得感到惊奇。这个老头儿，头发蓬乱，满脸皱纹，上身只穿一件肩头磨破的灰色脏衬衫，下身穿着同样破旧的长裤，赤脚坐在板床旁边的地板上，目光严厉而疑惑地瞧着进来的人。他那皮包骨头的身子从脏衬衫的破洞里露出来，显得虚弱可怜，但神色比在渡船上更加专注，更富有生气。犯人们也象别的牢房里那样，看见长官进来，都跳下床，挺直身子站着；可是老头儿却坐着不动。他的眼睛炯炯有神，双眉愤怒地皱起来。
“站起来！”典狱长对他喝道。
老头儿却一动不动，只是轻蔑地微微一笑。
“只有你的奴仆见到你才站起来。我可不是你的奴仆。瞧你头上还有烙印……”老头儿指着典狱长的前额说。
“什—么？”典狱长向他逼近一步，威胁说。
“我认识这个人，”聂赫留朵夫慌忙对典狱长说。“为什么逮捕他？”
“警察局因为他没有身分证，把他送来了。我们要求他们别把这种人送来，可他们还是送来，”典狱长怒气冲冲地斜睨着老头儿说。
“看来你也是个反基督的家伙吧？”老头儿对聂赫留朵夫说。
“不，我是来参观的，”聂赫留朵夫说。
“哦，你们来见识见识反基督的家伙怎样折磨人吗？那就看吧。他们把人抓起来，在铁笼子里关了整整一大批。人应当靠辛勤劳动过活，可他们把人都锁起来，象养猪一般养着，不让干活，弄得人都变成畜生了。”
“他在说什么？”英国人问。
聂赫留朵夫说，老头儿责备典狱长把人都关起来。
“您问问他，照他看来应该怎样对付不遵守法律的人？”英国人说。
聂赫留朵夫把这个问题翻译了一遍。
老头儿露出一排整齐的牙齿，怪样地笑起来。
“法律！”他鄙夷不屑地跟着说了一遍，“那些反基督的家伙先抢劫大家，霸占所有的土地，夺取人家的财产，统统归他们所有，把凡是反对他们的人都打死。然后他们再定出法律来，说是不准抢劫，不准杀人。他们早就应该定出这样的法律来了。”
聂赫留朵夫把这些话翻译了一遍。英国人微微一笑。
“那么，究竟应该怎样对付小偷和杀人犯呢，您问问他。”
聂赫留朵夫又作了翻译。老头儿严厉地皱起眉头。
“告诉他，叫他先除掉身上反基督的烙印，这样他就不会再遇到小偷和杀人犯了。你就这样告诉他。”
“他疯了，”1英国人听了聂赫留朵夫给他翻译的老头儿的话，说，接着耸耸肩膀，走出牢房。
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1原文是英语。
“你干你的事，可别去管人家。各人管各人的事。谁该受惩罚，谁可以得到宽恕，上帝都知道，可不用我们操心，”老头儿说。“自己做自己的长官，这样就不需要什么长官了。走开，走开！”他补充说，生气地皱起眉头，眼睛炯炯有神地瞅着待在牢房里迟疑不决的聂赫留朵夫。“反基督的奴仆怎样拿人喂虱子，你看得也够了。走吧，走吧！”
聂赫留朵夫走到过道里，英国人和典狱长却在一个门开着的空牢房门口站住了。英国人问这个牢房是做什么用的。典狱长说，这是停尸室。
“哦！”英国人听了聂赫留朵夫的翻译说，并要求进去看一看。
停尸室是一间不大的普通牢房。墙上点着一盏小灯，暗淡地照着屋角的几个背包和一堆木柴，也照着右边板床上的四具尸体。第一具尸体穿着麻布衬衫和麻布衬裤，身材高大，留着山羊胡子，剃着陰陽头。这具尸体已经僵硬，两只发青的手原来一定交叉在胸前，现在已经分开；两只光脚也分开，脚掌竖起。旁边躺着一个老妇人。她穿着白裙白袄，没包头巾，留着一条短短的稀疏辫子，瘦小的脸又黄又皱，鼻子很尖。老妇人旁边还有一具男尸，穿着紫色衣服。这颜色使聂赫留朵夫一怔。
他走近前去，仔细看看那具尸体。
往上翘起的山羊胡子，挺拔好看的鼻子，白净的高高前额，稀疏的鬈发，这些特征是他所熟悉的。他简直不敢相信自己的眼睛。昨天他还看见这张脸是激愤和痛苦的，今天却变得宁静、安详而且美得出奇。
是的，他就是克雷里卓夫，至少是他物质生命留下的遗迹。
“他受苦受难是为了什么？他活着又为了什么？这些问题他现在明白了吗？”聂赫留朵夫想，觉得这些问题无法解答，除了死亡以外什么也没有。他感到痛苦。
聂赫留朵夫没有跟英国人告别，就要求看守把他领到院子里。他觉得今晚经历的一切必须独自好好思考一下，就坐上马车回旅馆。
