When he remembered the scene afterwards, this is how Raskolnikov saw it.
The noise behind the door increased, and suddenly the door was opened a little.
What is it? cried Porfiry Petrovitch, annoyed. Why, I gave orders
For an instant there was no answer, but it was evident that there were several persons at the door, and that they were apparently pushing somebody back.
What is it? Porfiry Petrovitch repeated, uneasily.
The prisoner Nikolay has been brought, someone answered.
He is not wanted! Take him away! Let him wait! Whats he doing here? How irregular! cried Porfiry, rushing to the door.
But he began the same voice, and suddenly ceased.
Two seconds, not more, were spent in actual struggle, then someone gave a violent shove, and then a man, very pale, strode into the room.
This mans appearance was at first sight very strange. He stared straight before him, as though seeing nothing. There was a determined gleam in his eyes; at the same time there was a deathly pallor in his face, as though he were being led to the scaffold. His white lips were faintly twitching.
He was dressed like a workman and was of medium height, very young, slim, his hair cut in round crop, with thin spare features. The man whom he had thrust back followed him into the room and succeeded in seizing him by the shoulder; he was a warder; but Nikolay pulled his arm away.
Several persons crowded inquisitively into the doorway. Some of them tried to get in. All this took place almost instantaneously.
Go away, its too soon! Wait till you are sent for! Why have you brought him so soon? Porfiry Petrovitch muttered, extremely annoyed, and as it were thrown out of his reckoning.
But Nikolay suddenly knelt down.
Whats the matter? cried Porfiry, surprised.
I am guilty! Mine is the sin! I am the murderer, Nikolay articulated suddenly, rather breathless, but speaking fairly loudly.
For ten seconds there was silence as though all had been struck dumb; even the warder stepped back, mechanically retreated to the door, and stood immovable.
What is it? cried Porfiry Petrovitch, recovering from his momentary stupefaction.
I am the murderer, repeated Nikolay, after a brief pause.
What you what whom did you kill? Porfiry Petrovitch was obviously bewildered.
Nikolay again was silent for a moment.
Alyona Ivanovna and her sister Lizaveta Ivanovna, I killed with an axe. Darkness came over me, he added suddenly, and was again silent.
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