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But the coachman was not very much distressed and frightened. It

was evident that the carriage belonged to a rich and important

person who was awaiting it somewhere; the police, of course, were

in no little anxiety to avoid upsetting his arrangements. All

they had to do was to take the injured man to the police station

and the hospital. No one knew his name.

Meanwhile Raskolnikov had squeezed in and stooped closer over

him. The lantern suddenly lighted up the unfortunate man's face.

He recognised him.

"I know him! I know him!" he shouted, pushing to the front. "It's

a government clerk retired from the service, Marmeladov. He lives

close by in Kozel's house.... Make haste for a doctor! I will

pay, see?" He pulled money out of his pocket and showed it to the

policeman. He was in violent agitation.