“And he told you on no account to tell me?” Alyosha asked again.
“To tell no one, and especially not you; on no account to tell you. He is afraid, no doubt, that you’ll stand before me as my conscience. Don’t tell him I told you. Don’t tell him, for anything.”
“You are right,” Alyosha pronounced; “it’s impossible to decide anything before the trial is over. After the trial you’ll decide of yourself. Then you’ll find that new man in yourself and he will decide.”
“A new man, or a Bernard who’ll decide à la Bernard, for I believe I’m a contemptible Bernard myself,” said Mitya, with a bitter grin.
“But, brother, have you no hope then of being acquitted?”
Mitya shrugged his shoulders nervously and shook his head. “Alyosha, darling, it’s time you were going,” he said, with a sudden haste. “There’s the superintendent shouting in the yard. He’ll be here directly. We are late; it’s irregular. Embrace me quickly. Kiss me! Sign me with the cross, darling, for the cross I have to bear tomorrow.”
They embraced and kissed.
“Ivan,” said Mitya suddenly, “suggests my escaping; but, of course, he believes I did it.”
A mournful smile came on to his lips.
“Have you asked him whether he believes it?” asked Alyosha.
“No, I haven’t. I wanted to, but I couldn’t. I hadn’t the courage. But I saw it from his eyes. Well, goodbye!”
Once more they kissed hurriedly, and Alyosha was just going out, when Mitya suddenly called him back.