"Lord have mercy on us! pardon us! aid us!" he repeated the words
that for some reason came suddenly to his lips. And he, an
unbeliever, repeated these words not with his lips only. At that
instant he knew that all his doubts, even the impossibility of
believing with his reason, of which he was aware in himself, did
not in the least hinder his turning to God. All of that now
floated out of his soul like dust. To whom was he to turn if not
to Him in whose hands he felt himself, his soul, and his love?
The horse was not yet ready, but feeling a peculiar concentration
of his physical forces and his intellect on what he had to do, he
started off on foot without waiting for the horse, and told
Kouzma to overtake him.
At the corner he met a night cabman driving hurriedly. In the
little sledge, wrapped in a velvet cloak, sat Lizaveta Petrovna
with a kerchief round her head. "Thank God! thank God!" he said,
overjoyed to recognize her little fair face which wore a
peculiarly serious, even stern expression. Telling the driver
not to stop, he ran along beside her.
"For two hours, then? Not more?" she inquired. "You should let
Pyotr Dmitrievitch know, but don't hurry him. And get some opium
at the chemist's."
"So you think that it may go on well? Lord have mercy on us and
help us!" Levin said, seeing his own horse driving out of the
gate. Jumping into the sledge beside Konzma, he told him to
drive to the doctor's.