"I am not mad," he said, and his brows contracted, "I only want you to stay here and listen. I won't let you out, and if you come near I'll strike you--and if I kill you--I am strong." He held up a long arm and powerful fist, shook it, and let it drop again. "Tell me," he went on, "what sort of men are you? What do you live for? Such stingy wretches--such a rabble!" "Here, listen--you--you shut up!" cried Kirik. "Shut up yourself! I will speak now. I look at you--stuffing and swilling, and lying to one another--and loving no one. What do you want in this world? I have striven for a clean honourable life--there's no such thing. Nowhere is there such a thing. I have only soiled and destroyed myself. A good man cannot live among you--he must go under--you kill good men--and I--I am bad, but among you I'm like a feeble cat in a dark cellar among a thousand rats--you--are everywhere! You judge, you rule--you make the laws--you wretches--you have devoured me--destroyed me." Suddenly a deep sorrow overcame him. "And now--what am I to do now?" he asked, and his head sank and he fell into a dull brooding. In a moment the telegraph official sprang by him and slipped out of the room. "Ah! I've let one get away!" said Ilya, and held his head up again. "I'll fetch the police!" came a cry from the next room. "I don't care--fetch them!" said Ilya. Tatiana went by him, tottering, walking as if asleep, without looking at him. "She's had enough," said Lunev with a scornful nod at her, "but she deserves it, the snake." "Shut up!" cried Avtonomov from his corner; he was on his knees fumbling in a box. "Don't shout, good stupid fellow," answered Ilya, sitting down and crossing his arms, "Why do you shout? I've lived with you, I know you--I killed a man too--Poluektov the merchant. I've spoken of it with you ever so many times, do you remember? I did it because it was I who strangled him--and his money is in our business--by God!" Ilya looked round the room. Terrified and trembling the guests stood round the walls in silence. He felt that he had said his say, that a yawning, melancholy emptiness was growing in his breast, from which echoed the cold inquiry: "What now?" and he said, listening to the ring of his own words: "Perhaps you think I'm sorry, that I'm making amends here before you all? Ha! ha! you can wait for that. I rejoice over you--do you understand?" Kirik sprang from his corner, dishevelled and red; he brandished a revolver, and rolled his eyes and shouted: "Now you shan't escape! Aha! you have murdered, too, have you?" The women screamed, Travkin sprang from the bench where he had been sitting and running aimlessly to and fro croaked: "Let me go--I can't bear it--Let me go!--this is a family affair." But Avtonomov paid no attention; he ran backwards and forwards before Ilya aiming at him and screaming: "Penal servitude! wait--that's what we'll give you."